#rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

[spookysteddie]

That Friday Night

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

read part one here

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)

a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!

...

You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 

But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 

Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’

They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 

However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 

Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 

You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 

Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 

Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 

“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 

… 

You should’ve changed your mind. 

You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 

You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 

Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 

“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 

God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 

You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 

“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 

“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 

Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 

“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 

You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 

You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 

Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 

It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.

Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 

Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 

“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 

“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 

His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 

Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 

He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 

You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 

Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 

Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 

He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 

Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 

God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   

A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 

“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 

Photos are fine. 

Everyone must be tagged. 

Nothing negative. 

Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 

That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 

You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 

You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 

Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 

He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 

But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 

… 

By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 

Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 

“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 

Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 

“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 

Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 

And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?

Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 

You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 

“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 

“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 

“‘Precious babies?’” 

You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 

“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 

It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 

He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 

“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 

You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  

He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 

Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 

“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 

You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 

“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 

“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 

“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 

You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 

He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 

The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 

So, you do. 

The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 

From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 

So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 

“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 

You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 

The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 

Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 

You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 

“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 

He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 

“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 

It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 

The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 

“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 

You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 

He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 

That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 

His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 

Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 

He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 

You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 

“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 

But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 

“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 

You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 

He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 

In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 

“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 

You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 

You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 

But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 

“V-very.” 

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 

He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 

You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 

His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  

You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” 

Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 

He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 

He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 

“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 

You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 

He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 

“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 

You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 

The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 

“Oh god! Please.” 

“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 

And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 

Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 

You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.

“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 

“And now… we wait.”

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #modern!rockerstar!eddie munson x influencer!fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

[shybunnie20]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

★My Masterlist

Summary: After some time in the spotlight, Eddie returns to Hawkins and finds that his unfinished confession to his best friend awaits him.

Author's Note: Here's a little something I wrote while I've been chipping away at my other WIPs. It’s way longer than I expected but I'm happy with how it turned out. The angst is very mild and it has a happy ending!

AU with no Upside Down, no use of y/n, established past friendship, Eddie and reader graduated the same year but ages aren't specified, focuses on Eddie's POV, proofread to an extent.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of sex, includes swearing

After posing for the cover of the latest Metal Edge magazine, Eddie was eager to head back home ASAP. While he enjoys his time on the East Coast, he was really looking forward to some much-needed downtime. As he boarded his private jet and set off, everything was going according to plan. However, the weather decided that he was going to make a pit stop. Rather, an emergency landing.

Plans get derailed and unpredictability is a part of the lifestyle. When your private jet is just about plucked from the sky during a lightning storm, finding a place to land is imperative, no matter the location. In this instance, his jet touched down in Indianapolis. Hopes of catching a taxi to Hawkins were dashed. No taxi driver in their right mind would willingly brave the distance from the city to the suburb in that weather. Eddie was left with one person to call upon—the man whom Eddie had been considering visiting for quite some time.

Wayne was surprised to receive the phone call but he agreed to pick Eddie up from the airport without hesitation. They haven’t been staying in touch as of late; Eddie’s life is nothing short of a whirlwind consisting of sold-out arenas and constant travel. Getting a hold of his nephew became a challenging feat. Wayne rarely got past speaking to Eddie’s assistants.

It was his uncle’s rare day off and calls at that time of night were few and far between. So, when Wayne’s canary yellow phone practically leaped off of the hook, he was astonished. After making the drive through the pattering rain, Wayne retrieved a sulking Eddie from Concourse B. As Eddie settled into the passenger seat of the fixer-upper, exhaustion from his turbulent journey was evident.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with a protesting ache in his lower back, the result of a night spent on the pull-out couch. As he sits up straight, he lets out a low groan, vocalizing how his body yearns for the luxurious embrace of the Egyptian cotton sheets that are fitted around his California king mattress. They lay chilled without him, thousands of miles away in his opulent hillside mansion in Beverly Hills.

As he stretches in an attempt to unknot the tension between his shoulder blades, Eddie takes in his surroundings. He stumbled through the front door so late last night that he had no energy left to get reacquainted with his childhood home. He even wound up sleeping in his designer jeans, the coarse denim a far cry from the plush pajamas he would normally change into before bed.

A gentle grin forms on Eddie’s lips upon feeling comforted by the familiarity of the room. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the simple life that Wayne brought him up in. Eddie gazes around, noticing the subtle changes such as the addition of new mugs and hats to their respective displays. One particular change catches his attention and draws a fond exhale from his stale lungs. The worn-out doormat, which was torn to hell when he was a teenager, was finally replaced.

Despite his internal clock being out of whack, Eddie’s brain knows when it’s time for a cup of jitter juice. He rises from the rickety mattress, his back cracking loudly at the extension. A moan of discomfort slips out as he winces at the pinch at the base of his neck. “Jesus, fuck,” he mutters aloud. Eddie makes a mental note to buy Wayne a new sofa.

His socked feet slide across the linoleum as he steps into the kitchen. He notices that the bedroom door is closed, though it’s doing very little to dampen the loud snoring emitting behind it. Eddie yawns as he grinds his fists into his eyes, causing a splash of tingling colors across the darkness of his lids. He approaches the corner cupboard, knowing that what he’s looking for will be in the same place it always has been. The cabinet door greets him with a squeak and he’s met with a single dented can of Folgers. That shit is practically varnish remover, it simply won’t do.

Eddie sighs as the craving for his favorite Italian coffee intensifies. It’s so rich, flavorful, smooth, and yet, it packs a punch. Just the thought of the hazelnut dark roast takes him back to the first time he ever tried it in Trieste. From that moment on, he needed it imported back home.

Well, the java situation is a bust. For the time being, Eddie has a choice. Either charred slices of Wonderbread or plain cornflakes. AKA, buttered plywood or a bowl of sawdust. Ew and ew. Settling for the arguably more exciting option, Eddie decides on toast. Each bite into the brittle slice causes dark crumbs to scatter into his open palm that he holds beneath his chin. He can’t be bothered to get a plate, even as an adult. The burnt bits accumulate in his hand as he continues to nibble. While Eddie brushes his palms over the sink to rid himself of crumbs, he catches sight of the magazine clipping held to the fridge door by a Tweety Bird magnet. Frozen in time on glossy paper is a photo of him at the American Music Awards last year. “Damn, I looked good.” He smirks as he recalls the tailored suit, the lapels encrusted with dazzling gems, and his pale bare chest blinding the paparazzi from beneath it. The memories of that night come rushing, the flashing cameras and the cheers of his fans.

With his tummy partially pleased but the craving for quality coffee intensifying, Eddie recalls that there’s only one good place around here to get a quality cup of Joe. Eddie takes a brisk shower to wash away the residual stickiness that clings to his skin from a night spent fully clothed in the stuffy trailer. He dresses in the most pedestrian outfit that’s in his suitcase, hoping to blend in as much as possible, and heads out. 

Eddie’s stride carries him through the glass door of Morningside Café, the cheerful bell above it announces his arrival. The café is bustling, as one would expect on a Saturday morning. The patrons have come for their morning pick-me-up, much like Eddie.

Initially, he considers keeping his onyx-lensed sunglasses on, a barrier that would shield him from potential recognition and the commotion that would ensue. But he decides to take them off, knowing that he might stick out if he’s wearing sunglasses indoors. Eddie tucks one of the folded arms of the frame into the collar of his t-shirt. To his surprise, nobody reacts. No one gasps or falls to their knees at his feet. The world around him continues to turn. Part of him yearns for the ego boost that comes with being recognized but, all in all, he’s relieved to experience a semblance of normalcy for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

Taking a moment to soak in his surroundings, Eddie’s gaze sweeps across the interior of the shop. His eyes linger on the display case where flaky pastries drizzled with chocolate and caramel sauces are housed. The cabin-esque aesthetic warms the soul with rich wood tones and a brick fireplace. It stands dormant, flameless, because it’s too warm out for a fire this time of year.

Beside the fireplace sit two figures that catch his attention. Even from a short distance, Eddie recognizes the mane of luscious locks, a signature feature that only belongs to one person. He strolls over with excitement tugging at his chest.

“Excuse me,” Eddie’s voice is hushed as he addresses the two figures engrossed in conversation. “Do you happen to know if the creamer here is fat-free?”

Steve and Robin’s dialogue comes to an abrupt halt, their voices silenced by the unexpected interruption. They exchange a glance, their eyebrows raising in unison. Simultaneously, their heads turn to peer over their shoulders. And there he stands, Eddie, someone they never thought they’d see again.

Steve gets to his feet a beat faster than Robin and he’s all smiles. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

“Must be an expensive cat,” Robin quips while she eyes Eddie, a quick assessment that catches details he overlooked in his haste to blend in. Her comment refers to the flashy jewelry he neglected to take off. “Persian, right? Those are the goblin-looking ones that rich people like? Ugly little fluff balls, if you ask me.”

Eddie’s sigh carries relief, expressing his genuine pleasure in knowing that Robin remains candid and unfiltered, just as he remembers her. As he extends his hand, Steve meets him with a firm handshake.

A friendly slap on the shoulder from Steve follows. “What brings you to this god-forsaken town?” His question is punctuated by true curiosity and a hint of humor, alluding to Eddie’s past that has kept him from ever returning up until now.

 “I was in the area,” Eddie replies with a sense of restraint, deliberately avoiding the true source of his change in plans. “Figured I'd swing by to see what’s what.”

Robin gestures for Eddie to take the seat opposite of them. They all settle into their mahogany-colored chairs. Eddie shifts awkwardly, the denim of his jeans dragging on the leather noisily.

With her elbows digging into her knees, Robin leans forward and supports her chin with her balled fists, positioned to hear the greatest story in her life. “So?” 

Eddie blinks dumbly, bemusement evident on his face. “What?” 

Reclined deeply into his chair, Steve rests his hands on his belly with interlocked fingers. “Enlighten us. Where the hell did ya go?”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, “Well, uh, I migrated west and lived in my van for a while. Then I found an ad in the paper for a spare bedroom in a janky apartment. I did the roommate thing for a bit and then- I dunno,” He twists the grim reaper-shaped ring around the base of his middle finger. “Things just worked out, I guess.”

Robin blows a raspberry and sits back into a less anticipatory position. “Long story short, huh? The last I saw, you were on the red carpet escorting Heather Locklear.”

Her reference to Eddie’s past event appearance draws a smirk from him, feeling a sense of satisfaction in knowing that his old friends have been keeping up with the big things he’s been doing. While she encourages Eddie to delve into the details of his daily life, Steve looks across the room at you. Your nose is to the grindstone, your hands working deftly to maintain the rhythm that ensures that the orders are being fulfilled in a timely manner.

Opening shifts are the worst, for the customers and the employees alike. Nobody is at their friendliest due to the dark clouds of exhaustion hanging over everyone’s heads. Not to mention, regulars have their quirks. Some are particularly anal—specifying exact temperatures for their flavored fuel. They scrutinize your every move, even going as far as monitoring the thermometer to ensure that their demands are met.

The grind of the morning rush is draining, yet, you soldier on. You wipe away spilled coffee grounds from the countertop and amidst the clatter and constant flow of orders, you catch Steve staring right at you. His expression is peculiar, his arched brows paired with a subtle curve to his lips. You tilt your head inquisitively at him. What?

Steve subtly points across from him and mouths, Eddie Munson.

Your hand freezes mid-motion, the damp rag caught between your palm and the solution-streaked surface. Instinct takes over as you lean onto your tiptoes, straining to catch a glimpse over the top of the coffee machine. And no shit, there’s that head of chocolate curls. Your pulse spikes as apprehension floods your belly. Returning your gaze to Steve, you mouth back to him, oh my god.

Steve’s frantic wave beckons you over, his urgency not leaving room for subtlety. Eddie takes notice of Steve and he looks to see who he’s motioning to. Your eyes meet and for a split second, utter disbelief is mirrored on both of your faces.

You panic and duck out of sight, retreating to the relative cover near the floor. Your thoughts race, your heartbeat pounding twice that. “What the actual fuck is he doing here?” you ask yourself, unable to grapple with the overwhelming emotions.

Eddie’s heavy-footed steps carry him up to the counter, the air around him feeling electrically charged, making his arm hair stand up straight. His chest constricts as he approaches the ledge and looks behind it. There you are, sitting on the floor with your legs pulled close to your chest and your forehead against your knees.

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles airily, though his brows are pulled together as to why you’re down there.

Reluctantly, you lift your head and meet his eyes. A sheepish grin tugs at your lips and you can’t help but scrunch your nose. “Eddie, hi!”

“Whatcha doin’ down there?” he asks playfully, then catching his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to suppress the smile that threatens to form. “Almost looks like you’re tryin’ to hide from me.”

You shake your head, only slightly annoyed at his amusement. “I’m just busted, aren’t I?” As you get to your feet, you wipe your palms on your apron before rounding the corner of the counter.

Eddie’s arms are already outstretched before you’re even in full view. You find yourself stepping forward to meet his embrace. The hug is brief, not quite as long as Eddie would’ve liked it to be. His beaming smile accompanies his glittering stare as it follows your features, studying the subtle changes since he saw you last. “Long time no see,” he teases with the lick of his lip.

You’ve already taken a step back, creating a bit of space between the two of you. With a deep breath, you nod. “Tell me about it, it’s been like what, six years?” It’s your turn to trace the contours of his face.

You’ve seen the tabloids on the racks in the supermarket, the pages that showcase his exhilarating career. You’ve seen his music videos on MTV. Regardless of the set design and general concept, there’s a constant—Eddie, partially naked with jeans slung low on his hips, surrounded by bleach-blonde stunners hanging off of him one way or another. He always stood tall, an embodiment of untouchability despite being touched just about everywhere by sets of cherry-painted fingernails. His image has become synonymous with charismatic magnetism and sex appeal.

And now, he’s standing right in front of you. Eddie’s silver nose ring catches the overhead lighting, a rebellious contrast to the well-groomed beard that frames his jaw. He has far more tattoos than he had when you were friends.

The dangling layers of necklaces twinkle like constellations. While you hugged him, you recognized his natural scent which was mostly the same, but with a faint woody undertone. The cologne he wears seems to have become one with his clothes, the scent being inseparable from him no matter how many times the article is washed.

Eddie also looks stronger and his physical presence is more defined. His slim frame matured into something more substantial, and his muscles are built and bound with raw talent.

It’s a curious juxtaposition to see him in such plain clothes. He almost resembles the Eddie that you knew, feeling both familiar and transformed, an evolution you’re struggling to take in all at once.

“Yeah, coming up on six. Feels like it’s been longer than that,” Eddie replies, the joy in his voice unconcealed. He shamelessly looks over your uniform, the baby blue polo shirt beneath the navy apron, with his interest plain for anyone to see. He took in your scent too. Your natural smell blended with coffee, and it struck a chord within him. The combination of the two is better than his beloved Italian coffee beans alone.

“How long are you in town for?” You inquire while playing with the hem of your apron. Meanwhile, you shift your weight on the balls of your feet, attempting to soothe yourself with the rocking motion.

Eddie sucks air through his teeth with resignation. “Just today, actually.”

“Oh,” you mumble, your expression subtly crestfallen at the news of his limited stay. “That’s too bad. You really can’t stay any longer?”

“I wish I could but stopping by wasn’t exactly on my to-do list. I was flying home from New York and then my jet-”

You’re startled as your supervisor’s voice booms from behind you, yanking you back to reality. Her words are stern, reprimanding you for being distracted. She scolds, saying that the line is twice as long as it should be. A quick glance at your coworker makes you feel guilty, seeing as he’s struggling to keep up with taking and filling orders by himself.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, “Coming!” With a final moment of eye contact with Eddie, you offer him a rueful smile. “Sorry, duty calls,” As you turn and make your way back to your station, you call out to Eddie over your shoulder. “It was great to see you.”

The sentiment hangs in the air, one that Eddie wishes you had a chance to elaborate on. But, time is of the essence and you’re already back to filling cups without waiting for his response. For a few seconds, Eddie watches you seamlessly shift back into work mode as if he isn’t there anymore. Returning to Steve and Robin, he’s met with pointed looks that are laden with interest. The weight of the encounter, the unexpected vulnerability he felt looking into your eyes, settles on his shoulders. As Eddie returns to the seat across from them, he slumps down with a pout.

Robin’s brows furrow at his sudden change in demeanor. “Why the long face? Didn’t you ask her out?”

Eddie’s response is a sullen half-note while he stares fixedly at a speck of mud on Steve’s shoe. “No,” he says, “I didn’t, and quite frankly, I don’t think she’d even want to.” In the way that Eddie is carrying himself, it’s obvious that his insecurities have been stirred up. “You should’ve seen the way she looked at me. It was like she hardly recognized me.”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I dunno, man. Kinda hard to believe a hot shot like you can’t get whatever girl he sets his sights on.”

That remark sparks something within Eddie, a realization that switches his perspective. Steve’s words hit home—he’s Eddie fucking Munson. A Grammy award-winning recording artist for Christ’s sake. Casanova, heavy hitter, ladies’ man. His confidence resurfaces, becoming acutely aware of the charm he can whip out whenever he needs it; he’s well equipped for this moment.

Summoning the deepest breath he’s ever taken, Eddie rises to his feet once again, feeling sure of himself this time. His hands smooth down his shirt and he clears his throat. When Eddie chances a look behind him, Steve and Robin are giving him two, technically four, thumbs up as a means of encouragement.

With newfound resolve, Eddie approaches the counter once again. You’re a flurry of motion, caught up in the demands of your job. A bead of sweat threatens to drip from your brow as you ensure that the whipped cream on top of the ice-cold beverage is the perfect amount.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice cuts through the ambient noise, a little louder than necessary to ensure that you’ve heard him.

You peek up at him with a grin in acknowledgment. “Hi,” Though his presence is noted, your focus is unwavering, determined not to let any more interruptions affect your efficiency.

Eddie’s knuckles wrap against the counter, a drumming that underscores his everlasting nerves when it comes to you. “What are you doing tonight?”

Powdered cinnamon dusts the air as you gently tap the kitchen dredger over the tower of whipped cream. The finely ground burnt umber falls where it’s meant to, rather than onto your apron. “I don’t have any plans, why?” You hand the completed drink to the awaiting customer beside Eddie, giving them a polite smile that’s a testament to your professionalism.

The act of biting the inside of his cheek does little to help Eddie relax. “Would you maybe wanna grab a bite to eat?” he hesitates for a beat, the thudding of his heart is on the verge of drowning out his voice. “I’ll bet you’ll have worked up quite the appetite by the time you’re shift is done.”

You sigh softly, mulling over Eddie’s offer. “I don’t know…” You say contemplatively while flipping the switches on the machine, causing it to roar to life.

Eddie holds his breath, every passing second heightening his senses.

“Okay, I suppose I will be pretty hungry,” you concede, your eyes nearly forming tears of stress as you accept the ever-present line of customers. “Early dinner at Benny’s?” You suggest with an inviting tone.

“Just like old times,” Eddie smiles so wide that it feels like the corners of his lips might split and bleed. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” He offers to pick you up, which he’d truly rather not. That would mean that he’d be taking you out in his uncle’s jalopy. In Eddie’s mind's eye, he would pick you up in a sports car and rev the engine to the point where you’re pressing your thighs together to stave off the vibrations coursing through you. A man can dream.

“No, I’ll meet you there,” you assert, your voice firm with certainty. The authenticity of your smile bridges the previously placed distance between you. “Thank you, though.”

His knuckles leave one last sequence of knocks on the marble surface, a rhythm of pride and assurance. “See you later, then,” Eddie confirms, his tone dancing on the edge of excitement.

You nod. “Later,”

Eddie turns away and finds his friends with expectant gazes plastered on their faces, awaiting the verdict of the exchange. His smile hasn’t fallen in the slightest, his dazzling white teeth and flushed cheeks don’t go unnoticed. Eddie’s enthusiasm is palpable, his words coming out in a hushed rush. “She said yes!” he exclaims, trying to shake the blood back into his fingers as the tingling sensation bites at him. “It’s a date,” He adds in triumph.

Sitting at the mini kitchen table in Wayne’s trailer, the rusty metal chair squeaks under his weight anytime he shifts. He can’t even sit still, despite there being plentiful hours between now and when he’ll see you again. Eddie finds himself flipping through the scrapbook you put so much time into making the summer before your senior year. That particular summer holds such significance to him, a time when the days were endless, and the bond between you felt unshakeable.

Each photograph feels as warm and breezy as the one before it. Sunbathing on the shore of Lover’s Lake, your toes dipping into the water as you prepared to leap off of the dock. The memory is vivid—your skin glistening and energy positively radiant with innocence and naivety. One of the snapshots of Eddie is far less flattering. He’s captured with sharp tan lines, the contrast in tones creating the illusion of him wearing a white shirt, despite being topless.

Eddie bites down on his lip as he studies the photograph of you riding your bike in cutoff shorts, your t-shirt having met an equal fate. The wind tangled through your hair in a way that he wished he could with his fingers.

The picture beside it features the two of you together. Obviously, Wayne had taken on the role of photographer. You’re both posed proudly beside a tower of playing cards that you spent 45 minutes building card by card, on the very table that Eddie is sitting at. Both of you held your breath and didn’t speak a word to avoid knocking it down. Taped across the same page are watermelon and grape-flavored blow pop wrappers, unredeemed arcade tickets, movie stubs, and receipts saved from snack runs made on days that you were craving specific treats.

With the turn of a page, Eddie melts a little as he comes across the photobooth strips. It was necessary for you to sit on his lap in order for both of you to fit within the frame. He was able to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close as if there was anywhere for you to go inside the cramped box. Your arms encircled his neck and rested on his shoulders while you made silly faces at the camera, and even better, at each other.

Eddie recoils at the picture of him with red-stained popsicle sticks protruding from his mouth, immaturely imitating a walrus, of all things. You laughed so hard that you insisted on taking a photo, and as much as dislikes the image itself, he’s still eating up how delighted you were by his antics.

The moments that weren’t captured on film come flooding back just as vividly as if they’re pasted to the paper before him. Inhaling helium from balloons and laughing hysterically at one another is a night that comes to mind. He knew he’d never get sick of making you laugh. And that time when playfully tossing popcorn into each other's mouths evolved from being a fun game to a skill. Last but not least, Eddie reminisces about sitting in his van together with the windows down, sharing cigarettes and music as the cool evening air enveloped you both. The quieter memories are just as deafening as the amusing ones.

His life had its fair share of upheaval and dysfunction that seemed to pull him in all directions. Amidst the chaos, one constant remained. You. Eddie didn’t need more than that, you already made life worth living.

But, as life often goes, the sweet moments can become bitter in the blink of an eye. 

It was the night of your graduation party, a celebration meant to be an intimate gathering among close friends—you, Eddie, Robin, and Steve. But when Eddie pulled up to your parent’s house, a scene was unfolding before him that he hadn’t anticipated. The yard was dotted with clusters of students while the front door was revolving with people drunkenly coming and going. Inside the belly of the beast was even more lively.

Eddie hesitantly navigated the throngs of teens in the hallway, people he was sure that you weren’t even on a first-name basis with. He knew your house like the back of his hand but it felt foreign due to the sheer number of bodies dancing, running, and tumbling over. 

He was going to finally tell you how he felt, a declaration that had been building within him for some time. Eddie understood that you were out of his league, the unspoken boundaries dictating that best friends aren’t supposed to fall in love, yet he found himself helplessly ensnared by his adoration for you. For so long, Eddie was afraid of pressing his luck, and even more so, was in a state of constant disbelief that he was lucky enough to call you the most important person in his life.

Graduation marks a turning point in a young person’s life, a juncture where change is inevitable. Eddie was ready for change and he wanted his dreams to bleed into reality. He yearned to hold you without any limitations, to kiss you like he needed to in order to survive. It was time for a new chapter and Eddie hoped that when he turned the page, he’d get the girl he wanted more than anything in the world.

You were in the kitchen. Typically, he gets a kick out of the way you act when you’re that buzzed. Your joyful disposition under the influence of celebration and booze led to you being the most laid-back version of yourself. However, he was facing an unanticipated predicament. Eddie was trying to have a serious conversation with you at a rowdy party. His hands were trembling, and luckily, his leather jacket concealed the fact that he’d soaked the pits of his t-shirt.

“There you are,” Eddie hummed and stepped closer to make sure that you could hear him over the music and chatter.

“Here I am!” you giggled, your cheeks flushed and energy unreserved. “Isn’t this wild?” You motioned to the piles of assorted cups and bags of snacks scattered haphazardly.

“Yeah,” Eddie responded, glancing over his shoulder as he was jolted by a stranger bumping into him. “What happened to watching movies and ordering pizza?”

The trace of disappointment in Eddie’s tone might have been discernable to a sober individual, but in your inebriated state, it slipped under your radar. Your smile remained and you swayed. The movement was more so a result of your jelly legs than unenthusiastic dancing. “I know, but my parents went all out and invited our entire class! I guess they figured that throwing a rager was a good way to congratulate me,” You chuckled and took another burning sip from your cup.

Eddie leaned in, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” he pleaded. “There’s something I need to tell you.” The weight of his unspoken feelings was on the verge of suffocating him and the heat of the room paled in comparison to the fire in his belly.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes ever so bright. “What is it?”

Given that you hadn’t budged an inch, that meant that the conversation was gonna happen right where you stood. Eddie tried to breathe steadily, knowing that he’d rehearsed this and he knew what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, the words had startled to scramble in his head. “You, uh- you know that you’re my favorite person in the whole world, right?”

“Of course, you’re mine too,” you agreed as you pawed at his shoulder before leaning back against the counter to make up for your lessening ability to stand up straight.

“I couldn’t ask for a better best friend-” Unfortunately for him, the timing couldn’t have been worse. The song that had been playing ended abruptly. “But I wanna be more than that.”

Eddie’s heart sank as his words hung in the air. The confession that was meant for your ears only was now released into the open, leaving Eddie exposed. A mocking laughter filled the air that the music once inhabited; Jack Carver, the asshole who’s had it out for Eddie since the fifth grade, was locked and loaded.

Eddie’s blood ran cold at the sound as it collided with his ears. His fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, his body tensing as he struggled to prepare himself for what was about to happen. 

Jack Carver’s taunting cut like a sharp blade, drawing a wave of laughter from the surrounding students with it. “Did everybody hear that?” he shouted with derision, “The freak wants himself a little girlfriend.”

Defenseless, Eddie clenched his knuckles as the walls began to close in on him. He knew it wasn’t over yet.

“There’s a reason you’re still a virgin, and you’ll die one, too.” Jack sneered.

Prior to that evening, Eddie had steeled himself for the possibility of rejection from you. He‘d surrender to the emotional blow to keep you as his best friend. But he wasn’t armed for the level of humiliation that Jack’s provocation brought down on him. It was the wounds of his childhood, the physical and emotional scars from years of being picked on, that were torn open. Jack always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

The tears that blurred Eddie’s vision shielded him from your pitying and startled expression. It all felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder that he was meant to be the outsider, forever on the fringes without someone to hold him close at night. As the laughter continued to echo around him, Eddie fled before the atmosphere could swallow him whole. Without a second thought, he shoved his way through the crowd and bolted out of your front door.

The night air hit him like a wall, cooling the hot tears that streamed down his scorched cheeks. Eddie stumbled to his van and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a shuddering breath, feeling like everything inside of him was coming apart at the seams. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut to clear his vision by forcing the pooled tears to flow and he raised his head back up. He saw you stepping off of your front porch, a concerned look branded on your features while you called out to him, searching.

At that moment, he decided that he was gonna show every single person who thought so little of him that he could be somebody. Eddie was going to outdo all of them and kick the expectation that he was going to end up in prison like his father, that he was going to be dealing drugs for the rest of his life, and that he’d always be trailer trash.

If Eddie could go back in time, things would have gone differently. But after chasing the California sunrise, he’d mastered the world of glamorous parties, adoring fans, and beautiful women. They threw themselves at him. He didn’t have to worry about rejection because he could have his pick, he had whatever flavor he wanted for the night. But no one satiated the craving he continued to have for you. No one laughed the way you did, no one understood him the way you always had.

You’d never have another moment together, he accepted that. And it didn’t matter anymore because he became the man. He didn’t have time to sit around and sulk about a small-town girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But despite putting his feelings in the rearview mirror, he daydreamed nonetheless. Eddie wondered what it would be like to show you the new and improved version of himself. He hoped that you’d be impressed. More importantly, did you listen to his music? Or read about his scandalous escapades in the gossip magazines that wove lies into the truth?

Even so, that night set him straight. It wasn’t going to happen for you and him. His only star had fallen, so he put all of his time and energy into making a name for himself. The songs on his albums are about living life in the fast lane and the thrill of the night. They’re about trashing hotel rooms and experiencing things he never dreamed he would because that’s what sells records.

But at home in his lyric notepad lays the songs of unpursued love, melodies about chances taken and lost. There’s one ballad in particular, its verses tell the story of him introducing you to his newfound confidence, something that you never knew him to have. It speaks of how he’s seen the world twice over, and yet, his favorite place to be is tucked away in the memories where things hadn’t changed yet.

Those heartfelt lyrics remain buried, never to be shared with the world. They’re a tribute to you, the unsung song in his life.

Eddie’s experience when it comes to the attention of women should, theoretically, render him immune to being nervous. Yet, he finds himself impossibly so. The source of his unease? You. This isn’t just anyone, you’re not just some chick. The late afternoon swings around and Eddie’s nerves are in full swing. He’s feeling just as anxious as he did the night of that party because second chances are rare for him. Eddie is acutely aware that this is very likely to be his last shot with you. This isn’t just any date—it’s your first date. The significance isn’t lost on him, and he’s determined to make it count.

Standing in front of Wayne’s bathroom mirror, Eddie attempts to wield the cheap razor to trim the edges of his beard. His curls, normally styled to perfection, look deflated and lackluster without his fancy shampoo and hair products to nourish them. The trailer park’s hard water isn’t doing his hair any favors when it comes to frizz either. As Eddie rinses away his beard trimmings from the basin, he exhales dramatically, watching his self-esteem swirling down the drain. He tries to remind himself of his good looks by reciting a silent pep talk. The thought of disappointing you, or not meeting your expectations, is something he can’t bear.

Eddie parks Wayne’s car outside of Benny’s Burgers and takes a moment to double-check his appearance in the visor mirror. He wants to make certain that he looks as decent as he can. This is the chance he’s been waiting for, this is for all the marbles. Unlike his usual casual encounters, where names and personalities go unlearned, this is different. Eddie has to earn your affection back.

He peers down at his fingernails, thankful that they’re still in good shape from his last manicure. Eddie mutters to himself, trying to get a feel for an appropriate greeting. “Hi, you look… pretty,” Lame. Frustrated, he twists the skull ring on his finger, adjusting it from its sideways position to face the right way up. “It’s so nice out tonight, but you look even nicer.” Eddie groans, banging his head back against the headrest. “Jesus Christ, Munson. Get your fucking shit together.”

With a thick swallow, Eddie steps out of the car and makes his way across the parking lot that crunches beneath his sneakers. As he enters the restaurant, he’s happy to see that this place hasn’t changed one bit. Eddie debates waiting by the door for you or to sit down for the time being. Anxiety wins, and he chooses the latter. As he strides across the room, he tries to keep his easily recognizable face relatively hidden. Eddie slides into the booth that the two of you always sat in. You spent innumerable Saturday nights sitting here, laughing and teasing, talking shit and venting about how high school felt so life or death at the time.

A soft chuckle slips out as he traces the initials that he carved into the table all those years ago. He grins, recalling how much you scolded him while he chipped EM into the wood with his pocket knife. Eddie absentmindedly fiddles with the lid on the ketchup bottle from the condiment caddy, lost in his own thoughts, until the restaurant’s door opens. His heart thumps madly as he watches you stroll in and scan the room until your gaze lands on him. Beyond his control, Eddie’s eyes are gleaming, overwhelmed with the privilege of being in the same room as you once more.

He stands from the booth as you approach, his legs acting with a mind of their own. Once you reach him, he’s not exactly sure what to do with his hands. He decides against offering a hug since you don’t initiate one. Eddie returns to his seat as you settle into the one opposite of him.

“Hey,” you greet him warmly, placing your purse beside you on the seat.

“Hi, there,” he replies, the red of his cheeks deepening as his hands go right back to fidgeting. Eddie clears his throat. “How was the rest of your day?”

“It was okay, nothing special,” you reply vaguely, your voice dripping with fatigue.

Eddie takes note of and appreciates the slightest bit of makeup you’ve applied since he saw you this morning, simply because it accentuates your natural beauty. It’s a small detail, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, and it warms his heart to think that you might have put some effort into your appearance to meet up with him. Or maybe he’s getting ahead of himself and you just don’t like wearing makeup at work. Regardless, just as a complement is about to roll off of his tongue, the table is approached by an old woman.

“My goodness, I remember you too!” She beams, clutching her miniature notepad tightly. “You’re all grown up now.”

You nod respectfully, clearly remembering her. Eddie, on the other hand, does not recognize her as quickly. It’s like he’s buffering as he thinks, and then his eyes widen, suddenly remembering that the woman is the waitress who always served the two of you every weekend. Holy shit, he thought she looked old back then but now she looks ancient. “It’s nice to see you,” He performs, trying his best to be a gentleman and show you that he’s good-natured.

“I’ll be right back, I know just what to get you,” She says sing-songy manner and bounces away into the back kitchen. Even after all this time, she still knows your orders by heart.

Despite the breath that you release, the hurt isn’t evident on your face. “Why’d you disappear on me that night?”

Your straightforwardness catches Eddie off guard, and he struggles to find the right words to respond. “Doesn’t matter why,” he begins, trying to deflect from the topic. He’d much rather you ask him if he has any pets or if he’s read any good books lately. “That was ages ago, what matters is that I’m not a pathetic loser anymore.”

“You were never a loser, Eddie.” You say looking into his eyes, reminding every fiber of his being that you always liked him for who he was. But just as quickly, your gaze drops. You always hated when he talked about himself that way because you thought he was a total catch.

Eddie’s gaze lingers on you, studying the shift. Slowly, the realization dawns on him that your hurt runs deep, possibly deeper than his own. Coming to terms with his self-centered perspective makes his chest ache. He was so consumed by his own insecurities that he never spared a thought for how his sudden departure wounded you.

You change gears with an almost perfected ease, smoothly transitioning from the heaviness of the subject. “So, Mr. Super Star, what’s it like being you?”

A chill is sent up his spine, uneasiness caused by how swiftly you just rebuilt your walls before his eyes. He bites anyway, hoping that your interest in his stories is genuine. “From the outside, it looks like fun but it’s nothing short of chaos. When you’ve got a show every other night, and a band wants you on their new album, and then someone’s throwing a massive party...” Eddie trails off, afraid that his rambling is coming off as braggery. “Anyway, enough about all that. How ‘bout you? How’d you end up working at Morningside?”

There’s a flicker of joy on your face that shows your appreciation for his desire to hear you talk about yourself. “I needed something part-time, I’m actually studying to be a-”

EEK! You both startle at the ear-shattering squeals of three middle school-aged school girls. They’re gathered around Eddie, borderline frothing at the mouth to be looking at and breathing the same air as him. They’re all talking a mile a minute over one another, asking for autographs, wanting hugs, and gushing about his music.

Eddie looks at you and he can’t quite gauge your reaction, your expression is practically unreadable. “One second, I’m sorry,” he sincerely apologizes, scooting out of the booth to greet the rabid girls. He figures that if he handles this interaction skillfully, they’ll likely leave both of you alone afterward.

As you watch him engage, you’re beyond disappointed. It seems like he’s more interested in the attention and adoration of his fans than he is in spending time with you. He should’ve just told them to go away. Now you’re certain of where his priorities lie and you should’ve known from the moment you saw his face this morning. He isn’t here to mend things, Eddie has less than pure intentions and you’re not going to wait to find out what they are.

While Eddie is busy giving the girls his full attention with his back turned to you, you seize the moment to slip out of the booth and quietly exit the restaurant. One of the girls is clinging onto him after a hug and he has to pry her off of himself. In doing so, he sees your hurried movement out of the corner of his eye. He half-heartedly thanks his fans and rushes after you, his mouth going dry as reality hits him like a freight train; he’s getting a taste of his own medicine.

“Wait up,” Eddie calls out to you, his chest heaving.

You stop in your tracks and turn to him with a hardened look on your face. “Why did you come here? Was it so you could show off how untouchable you are now?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open. “No,” he steps forward but you inch away. “Of course not.”

“Then what? Because I don’t even know why I agreed to come here. You’ve obviously outgrown Hawkins and everyone in it. I wasn’t good enough for you to stick around for, much less stay in touch with.”

Eddie’s heart breaks in two at the sunset reflecting in the glossy pools that have formed along your lower lash line. “You were always enough for me,” he says weakly.

You roll your eyes and your car keys jingle in your hand as you cross your arms over your chest. “Do you really expect me to believe that when it’s been nothing but radio silence for six years?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he snaps, suddenly feeling defensive. Memories of the night he left come flooding back and he’s transported to that place of feeling unworthy and inadequate. His chest puffs up and his shoulders tense. “At least I made something of myself. Can’t you at least be a little bit happy for me?

He immediately realizes that was a low blow, evident in the way the tears start pouring from your eyes. The hurt on your face cuts a deep pang in Eddie’s chest for his thoughtless comment. You’ve always been there for him, you were always in his corner for as long as you’d known each other.

You shrink into yourself, avoiding his intense stare as you crumble. “I am happy for you. It just sucks that I had to be forgotten about for you to get there. But I understand, I really do. You had to ditch this town to chase after what you wanted for your life, and that included leaving me behind too.” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand and sniffle.

Eddie’s tense posture relaxes and his expression turns sorrowful as he watches you fall apart from his wrongdoings. It hurts to watch you run a hand through your hair and wipe the mascara from below your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself. The sound of your fumbling car keys is like a thundering countdown in his ears, urging him that his time is running out before he’s lost you entirely. Eddie’s mind races as he fights the impulse to do something, anything, to make amends. “Don’t go,” he begs. “I’m sorry.”

You respond with your eyes fixed on inserting your key into the lock of the car door, your trembling hands making it difficult to do so. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do,” he insists, getting as physically close as possible without crossing any boundaries.

The piercing glare that was previously on his face has found its way onto yours. “I disagree. You got everything you could’ve ever wanted.”

When your eyes meet, he can feel it in his toes. “I didn’t, though.” Eddie notices the inflamed veins in your eyes, hating himself for being the reason you’re crying. It’s an odd feeling, but a small, sad smile tugs at his lips.

The scoff from you hits like a slap to his cheek. “Let’s see,” you hold out your hand and begin counting on your fingers. “Expensive clothes, a massive house, I’m sure you have multiple cars. You probably have a personal chef-” All true. “For fuck’s sake, you have a private jet. What more could you possibly want?”

Eddie is terrified of making a move that might push you further away, yet he musters the courage to try to ground you with his touch. His fingers gently wrap around your wrist and both of you watch as he brushes his thumb over your veins. “I never got to have you,” Eddie’s voice cracks ever so slightly as he lays all of his cards on the table. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

A tear dribbles off of your cheek and splashes onto the pavement as your hands begin to interact with his.

You contemplate pulling your hand away, the heartache inching back into the forefront of your mind. “If you wanted me you would’ve been here all along.”

Eddie holds his breath as your fingers intertwine and your palms press together. “I’m here now, and I want you just as badly as I did back then.” His lips press a soft kiss to the tops of your knuckles and his teary eyes meet yours. “I was just a stupid kid who turned heel and ran when things didn’t go the way I wanted them to.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agree with a bite of your lip. “You didn’t even give me the chance to tell you that I felt the same way.”

Eddie grins, giving your hand a squeeze and another kiss. “Is there any chance that you still feel that way? Because I’m still stupidly in love with you.”

“I do,” you breathe with relief, swallowing the pressure in your throat. “I’m in love with you too.”

“Wanna be stupid together?” Eddie tilts his head at you, continuing to hold your hand to his plush lips.

“Yeah,” you giggle wetly, “I’d really like that.”

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[mmunson86]

Y’all you can’t tell me that this is not Rockstar Eddie Munson coded

Just imagine them in the green room before a show and reader takes out her phone to record Eddie messing with Gareths drums 🤣💗🥹

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson canon #rockstar eddie munson x you #eddie munson rockstar au #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x you #rockstar eddie munson #oli bmth #oli skyes #oliver sykes

[sofiiel]

Chapter Two : Oversleep

Summary: Starved for the faintest glimmer, Eddie refuses to give up on the pursuit of healing a fractured mind.

Warnings: Angst. A little negative self-talk. unhappy end (?) to chapter. No use of y/n utilizes ____ and petnames instead.

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"Eddie, you have to go and get sleep at some point." Steve said, looking down at the exhausted man across the room.

Flipping aimlessly through TV channels, Eddie shook his head and downed another up of cold coffee. "I'm good, Steve. Really." he murmured.

"You've been here every day for what's going on four weeks now." Steve spoke as calmly as he could manage. He pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to bite back the snark wanting to bubble up from his throat.

Steve gave a muted huff, "You need to take care of yourself, she's going to need you when she wakes up."

Eddie's eyes flickered to Steve, "Nums has got two more surgeries before they will move her. Calling in a specialist for the final operation in about three months?" Eddie squinted as he tried to remember his conversation with Jenner.

"I'm fine until then." Eddie added.

"When was the last time you ate?" Steve asked.

"An hour ago, the nurses feel sorry for me." Eddie said in a bitter scoff. "I've got to be the saddest sight they've seen in a while." he sang.

Looking at you, Steve noticed the infamous little box resting on your lap.

Eddie followed his gaze, "I want to make sure it's there, right there when they wake her." He said. "Something good, after all this bullshit."

His eyes threatened to water again.

Steve cleared his throat in hopes of distracting Eddie's tears. "Look, man. Go stretch your legs, call the guys and update them. I can watch her for a while." He offered.

Eddie's eyes stayed fix on the woman he loved, willing her eyes to open. Though he knew it wasn't that simple, you had a long way to go down the road to recovery.

"It's not like she's going to jolt awake right now, right? Five minutes." Steve pressed.

Eddie released a shaky breath, he wasn't going to admit that his leg had fallen asleep for the third time or that he couldn't feel his butt.

"Alright," he replied, "Thanks."

Steve gave Eddie's shoulder a reassuring shake as he got to his feet. "Don't worry about it, watching over troublemakers is what I do, remember?" He teased.

When Eddie manged a smile, Steve knew he could relax. He tilted his head towards the door, "Now go one and bring me one of those cookies from the café."

Eddie headed out of the room and as the door closed, Steve exhaled. Standing before your bed with his hands on his hips, his eyes shimmered with pity.

"I swear, you two have the worst combined luck." He murmured.

Several months had come and gone. Under a bright summer sun, Eddie looked softly upon the little brown shingled house.

You would draw your knees into your chest, and he would kick his out to rest in the quiet street. Relaxed there, you would talk about how things could be, together in that little old house.

"I wanted to give it to you one day, I didn't think it'd be like this." Eddie thought.

The doors to the medical vehicle opened and closed behind him. Thankfully, neighbors on this street were spaced out and no nosey Susans were about.

Eddie took a deep breath and watched the team maneuver you up the walkway.

"The door is unlocked. The master bedroom, up the stairs and the room in the back, where the window looks out to the large old tree." Eddie explained.

Chrissy hopped out her car, hurried steps clicking against the sidewalk. With wide eyes, she looked up at the house.

"Oh!" she gasped, mouth covered.

"Yeah." Eddie exhaled, the corners of his mouth threatening to smile.

Pulling her hands way from her muffled gasp, Chrissy began to fan her eyes. "Damn you, Eddie!" she cursed through the crack in her voice.

"I was done crying!"

Eddie simply smiled, "Come on, let's go see if Nums likes her room."

At the dinning room table of the shaby-chic house, Chrissy poured glasses of water for Eddie, Wayne, the band and the Sinclair siblings. Everyone seemed happy enough to get caught up with each other, but there were scarcely any smiles.

"So...that was the last surgery?" Erica questioned.

Eddie nodded, "Yes, as of three months ago. The very last one. Jenner has already ordered to tapper Nums off her meds, the ventilator comes off in two weeks and then -"

He sent a nervous glance at all the supportive faces around him. A hopeful grin curved onto Eddie's lips.

"She wakes up." he exhaled.

Erica dropped her napkin into her plate and flap her hands "well that settles it, I'm moving in." she said.

"You can't just move in." Lucas said.

"Says who? Someone's gotta watch, _____ and I am not leaving her in the hands of some live in nurse." Erica pointing a finger, her eyes narrowing.

"You saw that news story last year about the nurse who was taking that old man's social security check." she said.

"Well _____ isn't some ol' man. She isn't gettin' a check to take." Wayne reasoned. He cracked open his beer can and paused, "But she should be looked after by folk she knows." he added.

"Exactly." said Erica.

"I have a few photoshoots, and the opening of the Cunningham Junior Cheer Camp, but after that I can gladly come and check in for a while." Chrissy offered.

Eddie blinked slowly, looking over the faces around him.

"I'm not leaving." he said flatly.

Gareth released a quick breath of air, "Eddie," he spoke carefully. "We have to finish this tour. I want to see _____ come out of this just as much as anybody here. But-"

A light grimace inched it's way onto Eddie's face.

"Our shows are sold out, we need to give the fans something. _____ wouldn't want you to miss the biggest tour of our carreer." Gareth reasoned as gently as he could manage.

Eddie's jaw flexed as his teeth clenched.

His eyes lowered to his hands as he fiddled with his rings.

"I have to be here the moment it happens. She might wake up scared, I don't care who's here, I want to be here." Eddie whispered.

"I need it." he added.

Everyone fell silent, and the band glanced at one another.

It wasn't that they didn't understand, but it'd been months of leaving their fans in limbo, and a loss in profit after refunding many tickets and passes.

Corroded Coffin was blessed with a supportive fan base, but even they could only take so much.

"Eddie, we'll all take good care of _____. You can come visit in between shows. We can let you know if she seems to be coming to. But Gareth isn't wrong." Chrissy spoke softly, trying to disarm the defenses Eddie was being to toss up.

Eddie's gaze fixed on Wayne, who heaved a sigh.

"He's not gonna hear it, at least not today. Try talking to him about it later." Wayne said.

Eddie pushed back his chair and got up from the table, wordlessly excusing himself.

Upstairs in the bedroom, where the window overlooked the old tree. Eddie climbed into bed with you.

He settled in close, and with the back of his hands, he gently caressed your cheek.

"I'm still here, Nums." He whispered. "And I'm gonna be right here no matter how long it takes."

Sliding down, Eddie lay next to you. Curled up on his side and taking in your face.

He missed your smile, the way your eyes crinkle when you laughed, the sound of that laugh. The way it gave him little bubbles of joy in his chest.

Eddie missed the sound of your voice, saying his name, or reading over a to-do list. Muttering to yourself under your breath. Your snark, He missed it all.

"I'd settle for being yelled at." he thought.

His heart ached with both regret and excitement.

The ache from you ever having to be in this position, and the constant replay in his head of how he wasn't able to prevent it.

But you'd be waking up soon, then the nightmare would, for the most part, be over. Sure there was bound to be some physical therapy, but he could work with that, he could help with that.

"But like this..." Eddie murmured, letting his hand cradle your cheek. "I don't know what else I can do for you like this."

He drew in a deep breath, "I'm sorry." Eddie whispered.

"Gareth is probably right, I should stop holding up the tour. After all, this all started with a pissed-off fan, right?" He rambled his thoughts to you.

Even if you couldn't speak, it felt natural. It was you who'd help sort out the whirlwind in his mind, and that would never change.

"I feel like...all I do recently is fuck up. The papers, they've been filled with bullshit for years, rumors, tabloid taboos." Eddie heaved a great sigh.

Ruffling his hair, he looked up and out the window. The hulking branches of the oak tree masked the view of the neighbor's yard.

"I guess, as bad I wanted it, I'm no good at being famous. I'm still just...the freak of Hawkins. I thought maybe things would change."

He gave a sour chuckle, "But my luck is still shit."

A soft knock echoed from the doorway and Erica stepped through.

"Are you done wallowing? Jeff says you got a call from a venue in Pittsburgh wanting to know if the show is postponed or canceled." She said.

Even with sharp words, Erica's gaze betrayed her. It was as if she'd been looking at a dog left out in the cold.

Eddie laughed quietly, "Christ, now I know I'm pitiful if you're looking at me like that." he whispered.

Eddie crawled out of the bed and stood up. He gave a stretch and then stole one last glance at you.

"So...is it canceled?" Erica asked.

Eddie smirked, "No...no, It's postponed." leaning over, Eddie gently kissed your lips, and backed away.

"Keep 'er company for me? I need to talk with the guys." he said before jogging out the door.

Time passes far faster than people often expect, while it grinds slowly for some others.

The ventilator was off. A crowd of your closest friends circled your bed early awaiting the moment you would open your eyes, as the doctor took the necessary steps to rouse you.

Eddie wrung his hands nervously as he sat at the edge of your bed.

His heart rioting in his chest with hard thumping beats, nearly painful. It was hard to catch his breath.

Seeing him struggle Wayne rested a hand on his shoulder and gave a supportive squeeze.

Looking up at him Eddie flashed a wide grin, his eyes darting back to your figure in the sheets shortly after.

The room held its breath as the minutes ticked on.

10, 15, 20....

Eddie's brows knitted together tightly, "what isn't it happening?" his words fell from his mouth quietly, "What's going on?" He asked looking towards the doctor.

"It's quite normal for the waking process to carry on a little longer," He was told.

A whimpering grunt sounded deep within Eddie's throat as he tried to tame the impatience building inside. His fingers crawled across the bedsheets and took your hand.

Eddie glanced down at his watch, "Plane leaves at 10:00, we've got time." He uttered to calm himself.

After some time, The doctor took his leave, informing Eddie of the emergency contact information should anything happen. But he was sure to calm Eddie and the group of their worries and left confidently.

Eddie sighed for the hundredth time, she lightly pushed the little black box closer to you.

Picking up your hand he lifted it and kissed the back. Letting his lips linger against the warmth of your skin.

Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, drowning in the heavy silence. He cleared his throat, "If I remember she kept you waiting in '85 too." he said with a playful chuckle.

"God she spent hours with Nancy trying to plan out that outfit. So much so she-"

Eddie cracked a smile, "was late to our first date." his voice pitched for a moment.

"I thought, she'd stood me up and was so fuckin' pissed." Eddie laughed.

"Then she showed up in that dress and...I didn't care about the time, I forgot how time worked..." Eddie murmured.

"Yeah, so it's a habit, right? ____ is just keeping you waiting. dramatic effect." Chrissy jumped in.

"Wish she wouldn't, that's fine for you but I don't play that ~ messing with my emotions." Erica chimed in.

Yet day passed to night, and as the hours ticked on Eddie felt a knot tying in his gut. His eyes darted to his watch as he bounced his foot nervously.

"Come on, please..." He thought, gaze focused on your face, pleading.

Gareth and Jeff glanced at each other anxiously. It was going to be a nightmare if you didn't wake soon.

Both of Eddie's hands gripped yours, clutching desperately.

He was down to one hour, one hour before he had to head out the door for the airport. One hour before he would potentially catch a flight to Maine and be too far away to return fast enough would you stir.

"I want it to be my eyes you open your's too for the first time." Eddie thought. His grip on your hand twitched, "please?"

"Eddie? we just ordered pizza if you'd like to come eat before you go?" Chrissy chimed peeping her head through the doorway.

Eddie didn't move, his eyes glued to your face.

Gareth quietly shook his head and got to his feet, Jeff following suite.

"I'll go and get you a slice or two." Gareth offered heading out the room.

"Thanks," Eddie murmured.

With his pizza left cold on a paper plate, Eddie pawed at his eyes with the bend of his wrist.

The final hour had come and gone, and you still slept peacefully in the bed.

The muscles in Eddie's chest felt tight at the thought of turning to walk out. Rubbing away the last of his tears he leaned down and stole a fourth kiss from you, and then a fifth.

He left his mark on your lips again and again as if leaving a trail to guide you back to the waking world.

"Nums, please." Eddie spoke softly into his last kiss, his breath brushing against your face.

Opening his eyes he hovered there, watching your eyes for even the slightest flutter.

Eddie's face twisted as he drew in a sharp breath.

"Fuck." he uttered backing away with halting steps.

Jeff knocked lightly on the door frame.

"Hey," He called gently, "We gotta go or we'll be late..."

Straightening up, Eddie looked over his shoulder with mournful eyes.

"I know, man. Look if you want we can-"

"It's too late to cancel." Eddie cut him off. Turning his back to you in that moment felt like his feet had been filled with lead.

Chrissy stepped around Jeff, and offered Eddie a hug, "We'll watch her, she'll be fine. Jonathan will be here soon too - he's shooting the new silent film in town." Chrissy said.

"and Erica...She won't be alone, and there will be enough of us to keep you posted." She went on.

Chrissy rambled as she watched Eddie's hopes crumble and nothing seemed to be able to lift it.

Eddie reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a note that'd been anxiously folded far too many times.

"Give this to her, when she wakes. I wrote it...just in case." Eddie murmured.

Chrissy accepted the paper with a nod.

Clearing his throat, Eddie rotated his shoulders and looked to Jeff, "let's go." He said.

Jeff led the way out of the door and even though Eddie's mind screamed to look back, he couldn't bring himself to.

Thinking to himself, "You'll never leave if you do"

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#rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #SIR: Chapter two #cinematographer!jonathan x fem!reader #eddie munson angst

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

You look lonely.

《 VirginRockstar!Eddie munson x GroupieFem!Reader

《 Summary: Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.

《 Warnings: unprotected sex, Eddie is 25. Virgin!Eddie, multiple orgasms, over stimulation. Loss of virginity. Brief mention of birth control, subish eddie. A little spanking.

《 Word count: a little over 8k

A/n: Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across. Please like, comment, and reblog to show support. Divider credit @cafekitsune

18+ minors dni

Year 1991

Eddie's life was at an all-time high. He had everything he only dreamt about back home in Hawkins, Indiana. He had money, fame, and adoring fans who loved him. Yet he still never had the opportunity to make a real connection with anyone. He still hasn't found the one.

Which was fine he didn't really need anyone right now. His life was too hectic for a partner. He was traveling all over the world meeting new people every night. He put all of his time and energy into music, and it paid off in the end.

He's surrounded by beautiful models and actresses, but never has he once been lucky enough to be intimate with any of them. He was a nervous and shy guy even after success. He never changed. He was still Eddie. Sweet, shy, and the same nerdy man who loved to play DnD and read Tolkien.

Eddie did have plenty of opportunities to lose his virginity in the past, but he was terrified. Most people would assume he was getting laid left and right. He's read the gossip magazines. He knows what people think of him. While he can talk up a big game, once it's time to get down to it, he just... doesn't.

He runs away. He gets too much in his own head. What if I'm terrible? What if everyone finds out I'm still a virgin at twenty-five? Those thoughts raced in his mind anytime he took a woman out on date, knowing they were expecting to hook up with this crazy rockstar.

His fear of rejection held him back, and now his fear of being a total disappointment was the new cause. He knows there's truly nothing wrong with still being a virgin. it's society who has a problem with it. Normally Eddie wouldn't give two fucks what people thought about him, but this was different. Most days, he actually doesn't care at all or even thinks about it. Until he's alone in bed with nothing but his overthinking brain.

All that would change once he saw you in the crowd. Not blinking. Then he saw you again when he snuck backstage to his dressing room. He managed to somehow sneak past a group of girls without much notice, hiding behind large security guards.

You were standing off to the side next to a crowd full of half-naked women. Eddie didn't mind all of you being there. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed the view after walking off stage. A crowd full of women willing to be his for the night. If only they knew.

Tonight was your first Corroded Coffin show. You've been waiting months to finally see them live. They have been on their world tour for almost a full year. Eddie Munson, their lead singer and guitarist, has had your eye since you first saw them being interviewed on Headbangers Ball.

The moment you saw those eyes and long hair, you were hooked. Once you found out they were coming to your hometown, you rushed to buy the tickets. You were already familiar with the security at the venue they were playing. So, getting backstage access wouldn't be a problem. One of the perks of making friends with the employees.

You didn't sleep with every band that came into town. Only the ones that peaked your interest. You'd never be caught dead in some glam metal band members' hotel room. You liked the thrasher types. The ones who looked like they hadn't slept in days. The bands who were loud and aggressive. Those were your types. The guys in that scene were generally more sweet and down to earth. Which is why you gravitated towards them. If you were good to them, they were good to you.

Corroded Coffin live at The Whiskey a go-go on October 31st, 1991.

You held the ticket in your hand, shaking with excitement. You were finally going to see them in person. You were actually going to meet Eddie Munson. Being a groupie wasn't something you ever intended on happening. It just did. You loved the music first and then got to love the people who created it second.

You weren't too fond being labeled a groupie. You genuinely enjoyed the company of these rockstars. It was never just about sex. You made a real connection and friendship with most of them. You always knew there would be no romantic feelings between yourself and whoever it was you got to know for the night. Or a few nights.

Only two days until Corroded Coffin would be in your city. You bought two tickets just in case your best friend wanted to tag along. She never really enjoyed this scene the same way you did. There was a thrill and rush you got that she never experienced or cared to. Still, you bought the extra ticket just to be on the safe side. Maybe she'd like to share Eddie with you. If she was down. You don't know why you were so sure he'd give you the time of day. But you were.

You were very sure of yourself that you could have him. Most bands had an after-party at their hotel when the show was over. They'd all gather on the bus with whatever groupie of their choosing and head off. That was your plan. Get backstage. Introduce yourself to Eddie and hope he takes you to the party....if they have one. Party or not, you were going to be his.

You've heard the rumors. You read the magazines and seen him out and about with some of the most famous women in Hollywood. The groupies that walked the sunset strip all had a little tale of how he was in bed. They would describe him as rough or very giving. Sometimes both. Some said he was gentle.

Others would say he was an asshole who kicked you out after he got what he wanted. You know, most of the time, you needed to take what they said with a grain of salt. From your past experiences with other bands. Their little stories were fabricated or over dramatized for the sake of attention.

Make no mistake that you didn't just want to sleep with him. You wanted to be his friend. Talk to him about his music. Have a connection with him. Listen to any crazy stories he might have. You wanted to have a life like Pamela Des Barres.

Where songs are written about you. Getting special treatment and tour the world with them. Have a rockstar fall for you even though that's a big no-no. You don't fall in love. You don't get romantic feelings. No matter how deep of a connection you get with one of them. It's hard not to. You idolize these men and women. But you knew it would only end in heartbreak for you.

The night of the concert you decided to go early and sweet talk the security so they'll let you backstage. You knew them pretty well by now. They know why you're there and have no problems with it. Your friend didn't tag along like you were hoping, but you're used to it. You'd figure you would chat it up with some of the other girls' backstage. They weren't your favorite to talk to. Too much jealousy and competition amongst them for your liking, but if gave you something to do in the meantime.

-

Eddie had been scrambling around all day long, getting ready for tonight's concert. He made sure his hair looked nice and his clothes were laid out on his hotel bed. He's been hitting the gym a lot more lately. So his clothing choice consisted of no shirt and just jeans half the time. He's got a lot more tattoos since the last tour he has done. A full chest piece and both arms down to his knuckles covered in ink. He looked a little different now compared to just three years ago.

He was nervous. Eddie was always nervous before a show. No matter if there was a crowd of five people or hundreds. He was scared. He puts too much pressure on himself. He compares himself to his idols too often. Something he knows he shouldn't do, but he can't help himself. He was going to the venue early and helping the roadies unpack and set up the equipment.

Eddie figured he'd meet up with the guys and do sound checks and then help his team get everything ready. They were playing at the Whiskey. A venue Eddie was very familiar with. He's spent most of his time in the crowd watching his favorite bands play up on that stage. Eddie never imagined there would come a point he'd be playing up there, too.

Back at the venue, you were talking it up with one girl you've grown pretty close to. You didn't know her personally, but she was at the same shows you always frequented. Her name was Lila, and she looked like she walked right out of a penthouse centerfold. Long bleached blonde hair, big breasts and legs for days. Most of the other girls hated her, but she was always very sweet. She didn't make up one night stand stories to get "popular." If she didn't hook up with a certain guy, then she'd tell you. She never lied. Which is why you've grown to respect her.

"I hope we get to meet Eddie after the show ." She bounced from one heeled foot to the next. A large smile plastered on her face.

"Me too." You chuckled, watching as she struggled to contain her excitement.

"Doesn't matter which one of us takes him home as long as it is not one of those Debbie downers over there." She leaned forward to whisper.

"Why not have us both?" You joked.

Her jaw dropped." Yes! He can have us both."

You shake your head and pull her to walk over out by the side stage. You always got the best view from there. No one shoves or pushes you out the way. Plus, you could be very close to the band. Which is exactly what you wanted. The sound tech guys were busy putting everything together as the roadies were bringing in the equipment.

That's when you noticed him. Hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His bangs are longer, and loose strands of hair fell beside his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just pants and a chain around his neck. The tattoos on his arms and chest on full display for you. Eddie was getting the amps on stage with the rest of the crew. You heard them make a joke about which girl in the back they'd pick out for him. But you didn't care about that. You couldn't take your eyes away. He was truly more beautiful in person than on TV.

Eddie glanced your way a few times when he noticed a couple of people off to the side watching. He felt a blush creep its way up to his cheeks when he saw you gawking at him. Eddie still wasn't the best around women if he didn't prep himself first. He was a good flirt, but the moment he noticed they were checking him out, he'd turn beet red. The little blonde standing next to you had her eyes on the road crew.

You saw him make eye contact with you a few times, and your mouth went dry. You've been with plenty of rockstars before, but none of them have ever given you butterflies the way Eddie did. His big brown eyes look straight into yours, and your breath hitches. You tried to elbow Lila and get her attention, but she was too busy checking out a roadie. She was like that.

It didn't matter if they were the ones playing onstage or working for the band. If she found them attractive, she went for it. You nudged and nudged desperately, trying to get her attention as Eddie's eyes never left yours. But all you heard was her giggle next to you as she eyed up and down the guitar tech. "Alright, Ed, time for sound check." You saw Jeff peek his head from around the corner.

You lost her now. Her focus was not on Eddie anymore but his roadie. You wouldn't be surprised if she even stayed to watch the show.

Only an hour until the show starts and you were getting antsy. Lila was gone. She left not too long after the stage was officially set up. You knew where she ventured off to. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. You just wish you weren't alone. There was something so...exciting about tonight. You've been to plenty of rock concerts, but this one was different. You didn't want to experience it alone.

Corroded Coffin were still considered newcomers. Who got very big very fast. There wasn't a magazine on a stand that didn't have Eddie's face on it. From tabloids to Spin magazine. He was on it. The thrill of getting to experience him in person was coursing through your veins.

There was this lump of excitement in your throat. You wanted to scream. Get it all out. You made up your mind that you were going back to his tour bus or hotel room. He was going to be yours for the night. It didn't matter how many women were lined up for his picking. It was going to be you.

Finally, the lights dim, and the crowd has already gathered to their designated spots. You were still off to the side. Gazing up at the smokey harsh purple haze lighting up the stage. There is a backdrop with huge black lettering reading Corroded Coffin hanging up high. Gareth is already at his drum set, setting up for the rest of the guys to make their grand entrance.

Each member emerges from behind the curtain with a roar from this pretty large crowd. Jeff and Grant waved to the sea of people. The crowd is alive, and you can feel it. That electricity is pumping in your veins. The place was packed. Maximum compacity is five hundred, but you know there is way more than that here tonight.

The mic in the middle of the front stage stays empty. Eddie still has yet to come out and introduce his band. The crowd is getting more and more wild. The other members play some instrumental songs to help hold everyone over until he arrives.

The band picks up speed, and the lights switch from a purple haze to red. The entire stage was glowing. The smoke on the stage gets thicker. The crowd forms a mosh pit right off to the side from you. Some of them sneak on stage to dive back into the crowd.

Your eyes have not left the stage. Not once. You kept glancing back from the mic stand to the curtain. You wouldn't lie. You were getting impatient. Extremely impatient. You wish you still had Lila with you so you could have someone to talk to as time passed. Knowing her, you probably won't be seeing her around until the next band is in town.

You blinked, and there he was. A guitar slung over his chest. His hair hanging loose around his shoulders. The shirt he was wearing now tore and cut shows off all of his tattoos. He doesn't say anything. He makes his way to the mic with a cocky smirk on his face. Watching the sea of arms waving out for him. The band never slows. Eddie starts belting out lyrics to their newest single. His voice growling in the mic. You'll never understand how these guys can do this almost every night for months on end.

The veins in his neck buldging out with every passing lyric. The crowd here tonight has never been like this before. There was something so special about witnessing a group with so much energy and passion that it's passed off to the crowd. The floor beneath your feet vibrating. You can't tell if it's from the music or the stampede next to you. Whatever it was, it had you mesmerized.

Your eyes still never left, Eddie. He stopped playing for a short moment to address the crowd. "How is everybody doing tonight?!" The contrast bewildered you. Between his speaking voice and singing voice definitely would give anyone whiplash.

He scanned the crowd, looking at how chaotic it had been since he arrived. Eddie looks off the side and sees you there. Same spot at earlier. You must look utterly hypnotized, and truth be told you were. You couldn't look away. He's got some kind of hold on you. He smirks and looks back to the rest of the audience, but every so often would make eye contact with you.

Song after song, you noticed guitar picks landing by your feet. You hadn't seen the first three times it was done. Too busy watching him thrash away on his guitar. You're surprised it's still able to play after the beating he's given it. He's playing so fast his hand looks like a blur. A pick slapping you in the chest snaps you back to reality. You bend to retrieve it and notice there are now five picks total all by your feet. They're a crimson red with E.M. scratched in the back.

Eddie had been throwing his picks at you the whole time. You hadn't noticed until he plucked one so hard at your chest that you felt it through your t-shirt. He moves over to your side of the stage and crouches down so he's almost eye level with you. He's so close you can touch him if you wanted. Eddie plays the solo of their final song of the night right in front of you. It was like he was playing it for you. Time stood still. Just the two of you and the music. You didn't even realize you stopped breathing until he got up and walked away. Giving you one last look over his should.

Eddie goes back to stand at his microphone. His confidence is through the roof. His stance is proud. "Thank you so fucking much for coming out to see us tonight. We are Corroded Coffin!" He growls that last part out, and the crowd erupt so loud you know your ears will be ringing tomorrow. The vibration on the floor intensified. You were surprised that it hasn't collapsed in yet.

One by one, the members exit the stage. Leaving Eddie to be the last. He looked back at you one last time and gave a little wave. Did he really just wave at you? No must have been to someone else. Definitely not you. You kept telling yourself.

There is no way. He was giving you a lot of attention tonight. Maybe he was? You kept arguing back and forth in your mind as you headed out.

Before you can even try to find the backstage area again, there is a security guard handing you a pass. That was awfully quick, but you don't dwell on it. All you wanted was to find Lila and Eddie.

You rush to the back and see her sitting on a case that holds one of their bigger amps. Her hair is disheveled, and her makeup all smeared. "Where did you go?"

She jumps, "Oh hey!! I got preoccupied."

"How was the show?"

You snort. "It was amazing. They were amazing. He was amazing."

"Babe, that's great. Are you going to the after-party at their penthouse?" Lila goes to stand and smooths down her dress. "The roadie.. I forgot his name told me about it."

"Oh, I'm definitely going. The security guard gave me a pass. I'm sure Eddie told him to give it to me. He had been throwing these at me all night." You go into your pocket to show her one of his picks he had been hitting you with.

Her eyes widened, and a smile spreads across her face. "He wants youuu."

She looked over at the other girls, who were now ease dropping on your conversation. She rolled her eyes and went back to give you a big hug. A bright smile stretched across her face.

"Let's get going. There is another little roadie I got my eye on." She hooks an arm around yours, guiding you to the exit doors.

You don't see Eddie anywhere. He's not out mingling with any of the backstage crew or fans. You figured he was getting cleaned up after the show. He did look very sweaty. His shirt clung to his skin, and his bangs stuck to his forehead. You were positive you would see him at the after party.

The after-party was at this luxury hotel in the penthouse suite. Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Eddie all had their own hotel rooms but used this one for mingling after their concert. There were tons of people here. Lila left you behind again the moment she walked through those double doors. She saw her roadie and planted herself in his lap and never got up.

You dabbled in conversation with their crew and had a pretty good talk with Jeff. He was the calm one of the band, and Grant was the funny one. When they got to bickering, it was like watching an old married couple. Grant would say some stupid joke, and Jeff would rub at his temple like he just came down with the worst migraine of his life.

While you were busy conversing with them, you kept scanning the room for Eddie. The sole reason you were even here to begin with. He wasn't here. At least not yet. You were wondering if maybe he found someone else to spend his night with. The thought of that riddled you with disappointment. Was he even the one who gave you the pass?

That didn't stop you from looking. The more you looked for him, the less engaged you were with the two men in front of you. The drink in your hand has become room temperature. More people have now rushed to join the party. The air was thick with smoke. The music was loud, and you started to feel suffocated. You excused yourself from the conversation to go to a less occupied area away from everyone.

As you're making your way past drunk person after drunk person, you see him. Eddie's standing off to the side with a glass in hand that contained a dark liquid. He looks freshly showered. His hair is still a little damp at the ends. You decided to muster up some courage and walk over to where he was tucked away all alone.

"You look lonely." You remark watching his face closely.

He swirls the brown liquid in the glass, causing the ice to clink. "Nah, jus' wanted a moment to cool down." He stared ahead watching the party.

"You know, just one pick would've been enough." You joked, hoping to lighten his mood a little. Eddie was coming off dismissive, but he's was just shy. He's never been good with small talk. As a matter of fact, he hated small talk it always felt forced more than anything.

He snorts, "Sorry bout that you weren't really noticing the first three I plucked your way, though."

"That's fair...."

You eye him and down, taking him all in. He looked good. Eddie notices you checking him out, too. His bites his inner cheek to keep calm. You're looking at him like you want to devour him whole.

"Wanna go somewhere more quiet?" You place a hand on his forearm and lean in a little close.

"It's pretty loud in here. I can't really hear you." You played innocent. You know what you were doing, and Eddie definitely knew what you were doing.

He gulps "Uhhh...sure". He straightens himself up, clearing his throat. He needs to keep his composure. But for how long? Would tonight be the night?

This alway happened he would invite a girl to his room or they would invite him somewhere. Things would get hot and heavy, and right when it was time to fuck he'd kick them out. Too embarrassed to be a disappointment for them. He'd rather be called an asshole than terrible at sex. Tonight? Tonight was going to be different.

He set his drink down by a near table and takes you by the hand leading you out a door you had no idea was there. Eddie walks you down an empty hallway until he's stopping at his room door. He takes his key out and looks back to see you behind him, staring at the fancy carpet. He was nervous but so were you. Just a little. Eddie had a bit of liquid courage in him tonight. He's usually a beer guy but decided to go for something harder to celebrate how great of a show tonight was.

There is a click, and soon he's pushing open the door. "You first." As he bows letting you enter.

You make your way in the room as he flicks on the lights behind you. It was large with a couch facing a king-sized bed. You take your jacket off, and he does the same. Eddies wearing a shirt that if it had anymore holes wouldn't even be considered wearable anymore. It does show off his arms and tattoos, so you're not complaining.

Throwing your jacket on the side of his couch, "You guys were really good tonight."

"Thanks the crowd was fucking insane." Eddie's making himself another drink at the mini bar. "Thought they were gonna go through the floor."

"Want one?" He offers calling over to you.

Shaking your head. "No, I had quit enough earlier, actually."

He nods respectfully at your decline.

Rounding the corner of his bar, he comes to plop down beside you, spilling a little of his drink on him. He's watching you closely, and you've never felt more nervous around anyone else before. You've done this plenty of times. Take a rockstar back to their room. Have some fun, and then stay a little while or leave. No one has ever made your heart skip a beat other than Eddie Munson. Who is now watching you intently. In this moment, you really wish Lila was here too.

You do it. You go right for it. This is why you're here. Why he took you to his room with no amount of hesitation. Leaning forward, you capture his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. You can taste brandy on his mouth as your tongue swips his bottom lip for access. Eddie still holding on to his drink, and the other is firmly planted beside him. You stop coming up for air. His chest is heaving, and his pupils are blown.

Eddies doesn't say anything. He was too caught up on from your kiss. He leans back in the cushions. Letting his legs spread wider apart. You take that as an opportunity to straddle his lap. Eddie stared up at you, and before you could say anything. His plump lips were already on yours. You grind down against him feeling his semi hard cock through his pants. He grunts in your mouth as your tongues fight for dominance.

You press down harder in his lap, desperately looking for any small amount of friction you could get. Wetness is already pooling between your legs. His hands move to grip on your ass hard as he helps you move against him.

You kept thinking to yourself that this wasn't real. You're actually not sitting in Eddie Munson's lap making out in his hotel room. He moans when he feels your hand dip down to rub his cock. Feeling how hard he was getting in his jeans.

Eddie breaks the kiss and stills your movements on him. "Wait, you don't wanna do this with me. He frowns.

"Why wouldn't I?" You're confused. Does he not like you? Does he not find you attractive and is only saying this to be nice so you'd leave? So many thoughts rush through your head in just a couple of seconds.

"I dunno. I just think you might be let down a little." His voice is small. He's not the big loud rockstar that was screaming just hours ago.

Eddie still won't dare look at you. Too afraid of rejection even to this day if he told you the truth.

Your brows furrow, and you laugh in disbelief, "Why would I be let...down? "

He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated groan. He moves to get up, and you go to sit back in your spot on the couch.

Pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips were in a thin line. He was annoyed and embarrassed. Mostly with himself.

".....fuck I guess now is the time." He muttered under his breath.

"Ive never done this before." Eddie waved from himself to you. Hoping you got what he was trying to say so he didn't have to blurt it all out.

"Huh, do what? You're still so confused, but you're trying to understand him.

Not only did his music mean so much to you, but he did as well. Corroded Coffin was the first band you truly clung on to. The first band that you actually bought a ticket to see instead of sneaking in and stealing a seat. Seeing him struggle to find his words was truly tough to watch. You have so much respect and admiration for him. The last thing you want is to see him upset over something.

"It's okay Eddie whatever it is, you can tell me. It won't make me think any less of you. You tried to reassure him.

He takes a deep breath, "Fucking hell I can't believe I'm about about tell you this...I'm a virgin."

You blinked back, thinking he was just messing around. He was known to pull little pranks on people. "Shut up, you're lying. I've heard the rumors."

"Yeah, that's what they are, rumors, all lies." He chews on his thumb nail out of nervousness. Would you laugh at him now? Is he still this amazing rockstar? "It won't make me think any less of you." Yours words ring in his head, but were they true?

"B-but you've gone out with like very famous women." It's not that you didn't believe him or that this was a bad thing. He was a famous rockstar who could have anyone he wanted.

"Nothing ever happened, sure. I tried to get to know them and have a serious relationship, but most of them just used me to shed whatever good girl image they had going." Eddie confessed. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.

"So... You're telling the truth?"

"Yeah, I understand if you wanna leave." His tone was harsh, but he didn't mean for it to come off that way. He is getting defensive to protect himself from humiliation.

"I don't wanna go." You move to stand in front of him. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," Eddie's voice is barely above a whisper. He finally looks at you, and his face softens when he sees no amount of judgment coming from you.

"Let's get on the bed." You push him so he flops back on the mattress. Standing between his legs hanging off the side, bare feet firmly planted on the floor. His shoes having long been discarded.

Slowly, you strip yourself of your top, pulling it above your head as he watched your tits bounce as you lift the shirt. You weren't wearing a bra, and you were thankful for that. One less article of clothing to getting in the way. Next was your jeans, and you carefully inched them down your legs along with your panties. Eddies eyes stayed glued to you as you became completely bare before him.

"You ever touched a girl before?" You crawl on top of him sitting just below his cock straining painfully against his zipper.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I've touched tits before."

"Not tits..here." You laugh, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. He lets out a shakey breath. Feeling the wetness between your legs as you feel his calloused fingers explore your entrance. Your slick coating his fingertips, getting them nice and sticky.

"Oh," he marveled, his eyes focusing on where his hand currently was.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Eddie." You purred.

You bite back a moan as he continued to explore at your opening. Your hand gripped at his wrist.

"Fuck." He cursed under his breath. Your pussy felt so inviting. Dripping wet like it was crying out for him. Begging and pleading to be fucked.

His finger glided up between your folds until they're grazing your aching clit. "Mmm, that feels so good." You praised and move both of your hands to place them on his chest.

Eddies watching and studying your face. His fingers rubbing sloppy slow circles on your throbbing clit. Your slick dripping down your inner thighs. You moan out his name and it takes everything in Eddie not to cum on the spot.

"Take your clothes off." You breathed heavy, feeling yourself already getting close.

He sat up quickly as you helped remove his shirt and pants. Leaving him in nothing but his blue checkered boxers. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his face and tattooed chest. You take a moment to admire the dark inck, covering him almost up all the way up to his neck. You know It must have taken hours or even days to finish.

He lays there waiting. Watching and waiting for your next move or instructions. Whatever you were going to do, he was ready for it. Anything you wanted, he's all ears. Eddie was yours for the night as he wasn't going to chicken out this time. No running.

His cock forming a large tent in his underwear already. You can see a small wet patch from his pre cum. "Can I kiss you?"

He nods, moving forward to plant his lips to yours. You giggle, "Not on the mouth."

"Im talking about right there." You run your thumb over his leaking tip that's trapped in his boxers. A mischievous grin creeping up on your face.

Eddie looks a little dazed. Like he can't believe this actually happening to him right now. "Y-yeah."

You pull his boxers down letting his cock free. His tip was an angry shade of red, precum dripping down his cock. Your mouth salivating at his length. His cock was thick with prominent running down his shaft. It laid nicely against his belly button.

"You have such a pretty cock." You cooed taking his length in your hand. Eddie hisses from your touch. He's so sensitive that any amount of attention will send him just about over the edge.

His head falls back, and you can see his Adam's apple bounce when he swallows. He blows out a breath of air, trying to focus.

"Oh shit." He whispered to himself.

You take the opportunity to lick a strip up the side of his cock. He groans deep from his chest. He was going to cum he just knows it. With his cock still in your hand you slap the head of his cock on your tongue tasting the saltiness of his pre cum. Wrapping your lips around the head, you swirl and suck on him gently. Eddie throws an arm over to cover up face. His other hand clawing at the white duvet.

"I-if you don't stop, I'm not gonna last much longer." He managed to stammer out. Your mouth too busy working on his sensitive tip to even care.

You remove his cock to speak, "That's kinda the point."

Wrapping your soft lips back around him. You suck much harder this time, and his hips involuntarily buck. You smile, feeling a boost of confidence you are getting this type of reaction out of him. Felt like getting a little cocky. you decided to take him further in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat.

His abdomen flexing as his release builds. Your throat swallowing around his length. You pull him almost all the way out before taking him in your mouth fully again. Your head bobbing up and down his shaft. His hips bucking up again making his cock go deeper in your throat. You gag slightly as spit drips down your chin.

Eddies still hiding his face from you. His cheeks flushed. "Fuck....I'm gonna cum."

You bob your faster. You take absolutely no sympathy on him. You want him to finish. You want to taste and feel his cum sliding down the back of your throat. You say something in audible as your mouth is currently stuffed full. Your jaw is hurting and going slack. But you don't care.

Your main goal for right now is not only to make him cum, but make him do it as many times as he can handle. With no warning, Eddie grabs your hair and keeps your head in place while thrusting up in your mouth, making it difficult for you to catch your breath. Your nose brushes against the soft curls of his with each thrust he gave. His hips raising off the bed to push his cock in the back of your throat.

"Mmphf, ooh shit." He grunts, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. The saltiness of his cum is all you can taste. Eddies relentlessly fucking your mouth the way he wants to fuck your pussy as he rides out his orgasm.

Every low groan emitted deep from his chest causes your pussy to flutter, sending a shiver down your spine.

He lets go of you, and you remove him from your throat with a loud pop. His cum and your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

"Christ, I'm sorry." Eddie apologized, He really tried not to cum so suddenly. He really really did.

You coughed a little, finally able to breathe normally again. "It's okay."

"Yeah, but... what about you?" He asked as guilt was starting to set in. He didn't want you leaving with ache between your legs that wasn't satisfied.

"Who said we were done?" You smile deviously at him. His cock still semi hard on his belly. You lay beside him, running your fingernails against his length. He gasps and lets out a whimper.

The difference between this Eddie and the one on stage is something you'll never forget. His cock twitches and you can feel him getting hard under your touch.

"Scoot up on the bed for me." You instructed, wanting him to get nice and comfortable before continuing.

Eddie listened and moved higher up on the bed until his head hit the pillows.

You move to straddle him. His cock sitting just above your pussy. He's looking at you in awe. Like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and he's completely at your mercy. And you are. And he is. As of right now, if you told him to run naked down the hallways, he'd do it. Eddie would do anything you told him to.

You rise and scoot forward some more so his cock is between your wet fold. You rock back and forth on him. He moan as you rubbed yourself on his cock. Your aching clit is finally getting some much needed attention. His chest is rising and falling rapidly.

Eddie moves his hands so they're holding on tight to your hips. You grind on him harder and faster. Your juices soaking his thick cock. That's it he was going to cum again. It was too much. What was left of his cum you didn't clean off was currently making a mess all over your pussy.

"F-fucking! hell." Eddie breathed, his fingers digging deep into your skin. He could feel another orgasm approaching him.

You felt yourself growing closer, too. The veins on his cock pulsating between your legs. Your pussy rubbing against him so deliciously. His tip nudging at your clit. Your legs tremble. Eddie bites down hard on his bottom lip almost drawing blood. His eyes glossed over. He was in pure extacy.

Eddie couldn't get enough. The feeling of his cock gliding between your slippery wet folds. It was driving him wild. If just by doing this felt incredible. Then he can't even comprehend what it must feel like to be buried in your pussy.

You had him drooling and unable to think straight. Nothing his own hand and a dirty magazine has ever been able to accomplished. Whatever his own imagination concocted was nothing compared to you. Nothing at all.

"You....this--fuck I can't even talk." Eddies whimpering and whining under you. He has a vice grip going from your ass and back to your hips. Moving them to hold on for dear life or smoothing over the softness of your skin.

"Oh my god!" he croaked. The bed rocking back and forth as you grinded on his cock. The pictures on the wall shake as you go faster. He watches as your breasts bounce, putting him in a trance.

Your climax quickly approaching, but you try to push it back. You wanted him to cum. You'll get yours later.

You feel him twitch again, and he curses under his breath. The grip he has on your hips starts to hurt. "I'm cuming...oh fuck I'm cuming." You haven't stopped moving as his cum shoots out onto his stomach and chest. Tears spring to his eyes and pour down his cheeks. Both of your minds are clouded. You stop grinding, letting him come down from his high.

He lays there limp arms out stretched after letting you go.

"I..youre so fucking amazing." Eddie finally spoke up.

You move back off him letting his cock rest up before you continued anymore. If only others could see him right now. Completely fucked out and you've only just begun. His skin is shiny with a sheen of sweat in the lighting of his hotel room. Eddie would never forget this moment or you for that matter. If he could take you on tour with him and never let you leave, he would.

"Hey, pretty boy, you okay?" You coaxed, running a hand down his cheek.

He doesn't speak, still trying to collect himself. "Mmhmm." Was all you managed to get out of him. His cock was surprisingly still hard.

"Are you ready to feel me now?" You leaned over to whisper in his ear. Licking a strip up his throat before biting down, leaving a tiny little bruise behind.

"Fuck yes." His husky voice as he replied. His eyes are closed, preparing himself for you.

Eddie was ready for this. More than ready. He made himself wait long enough out of fear and anxiety.

"Need your cock so bad." You playfully whine. Hearing that drove him crazy. He doesn't think he'll ever tire listening to someone beg for his cock from now on. Not after tonight.

You smile and move to lean up. Taking his length in your hand and aligning him up at your opening. His breath hitches as you take just his tip in you. Eddies mouth hangs open as he watches you slowly sink down on his length.

You take him inch by inch teasing him as you do. He's so thick it's going to take time adjusting to his size. You don't think you're ever going to feel as full as you will tonight. Somehow, you wonder if Eddie truly knows just how big he is. He has to have an idea? Right?

You continue sinking down on his cock while its spreading you open. It was pleasure and a little pain feeling him splitting you open like this. Your pussy dripping for him. "Ooh, Eddie."

He's biting hard on his closed fist. Fighting hard to contain whatever animalistic moan is threatening to escape. The tip of his cock is a shade of red that's almost purple. The veins in his neck protruding out.

"Please fuck me." He begged you.

Eddie Munson just begged you to fuck him. He's actually begging.

you most definitely are not forgetting tonight and will most certainly never tell anyone. Not even Lila. Sorry, she had a chance to be here and instead picked a roadie. The boost of confidence that just surged through your body after hearing him.

"I-i don't care what you do jus fuck me oh fff-god please!" Eddie whined as he rushed to feel your pussy hugging around his cock.

"Relax, I'm g'nna fuck you." You teased.

Finally you bury him deep inside you until his cock has fully disappeared. You both sigh in unison at the relief. You sit still, allowing yourself to get used to the intrusion. You roll your hips, taunting him a little.

"Sweetheart, dont tease me. I need you." He begs you some more.

"Mmf! god!, you're so big." You whimper. Eddie's cock stretched your sensitive walls the way no one else ever has.

You brace your hands on his abdomen. Eddie, out of nowhere, slaps your ass hard. He was growing extremely impatient all of a sudden. Grabbing your attention immediately. You nod, blowing out a breath of air. Rolling your hips some more before lifting them up and slamming yourself back down on him. His pubic hair tickling at your clit. Your both moaning together as his hips thrust up to meet yours. His tip hit that spongey spot on your walls.

"Fuck fuck... it hurts", Eddie cried with a strangled moan.

"Want me to stop?" You asked stopping yourself from gliding your pussy on his length.

"No! Don't stop!" He half shouts.

"I like it."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. His eyes look into yours, pleading for you to keep going. You lift yourself up and gingerly sink back down on his cock.

"Faster." Eddie demanded with a croak in his voice. You don't hesitate for a second. You lift up and start bouncing on his length at a frantic pace.

The springs in the mattress squeaked from how hard you rode him. Eddies face twisting up, and you know he's about to cum once more. He's blabbering nonsense beneath you. Mumbling to himself, "it hurts... so good," and "You're so tight."

He moves one of his hands to grip and spank your ass harshly. You know he is probably mimicking what he's seen in porn but you dont mind. You enjoyed it. Your pussy making a loud wet schlick noise as Eddie's cock stretched you open.

"Ahh! Eddie." You moan out for him.

"Keep fucking me.....dont stop. Dont f-fking stop." He grunts. His eyes half lidded as he watched you ride his cock. "Goddamn, you're wet!"

You feel your release building back up. You reach a hand between your legs as Eddie watched you. You rub tight circles on your sore bud.

He leans up on his elbows, looking on as you play with yourself. He was getting close again. Another orgasm threatening to spill out of him. Eddie is surprised he's about to give you another. he knows he's about to cum for the third time tonight.

"W-wanna cum again for you." Eddie lets out a small whimper. He sounded so needy.

"Oooh baby." You mewl. Your mouth creating an O shape. Your eyes are closed tight, and your thighs shake. You feel that coil in your belly tightening. "Spank me again." You begged him.

Eddie does as he's told and slaps your ass hard, causing it to ripple. The sound of skin slapping bouncing off the wallpapered room.

He feels your walls pulsing around his cock and he thrusts up repeatedly hitting that spongey spot inside you just right. Your hand moving faster circles on your clit as you struggle to keep riding him.

Eddie keeps thrusting his cock up in your pussy over and over again. It doesn't take much longer before your orgasm is ripping through your body. You let out moan that almost resembles a scream. He's watching you come undone before him. A hint of pride hits him, knowing it was him who did that to you. You won't be surprised if hotel security is called to check and see if any is hurt. The noises coming from this room would cause anyone to be concerned.

Your nails digging in his chest while his cock helps you ride out your orgasm. Your body spasms above him. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You stay like that while Eddies sweaty skin and leftover cologne invading your nose. Sitting back up your mind feeling foggy and your face tingles. White dots appearing in front of you.

"Sweetheart I-I can't cum inside you." Eddie rasped his face tear stained. His eyes look at you sadly.

"I'm on the pill it's okay." You reassured.

He nods and you move your hips to easily ride on his cock. Your pussy clenching up around his length was sending him over the edge. You were so tight. So wet. His balls are completely saturated in your creamy juices.

You feel his length twitch against your walls. Just a few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling his load for the third time. Eddie cums so deep and hard inside of you he forgets how to breathe for a moment.

His toes curling and eyes go crossed. His mouth hanging wide open. He shoots a hand up to press against the headboard, bracing himself. You're relentless on top of him. Bouncing on his cock the bed is smacking the wall with so much force.

"Fuking christ." He grunts, his head digging back into the pillow. His back arching. You don't stop bouncing up and down on him like a bunny until you've milked him dry. His cock growing more in pain by the minute.

"C-cant cum again" Eddie pleaded. His cock hurt and it was now unbearable. Not like how it felt before when the pain was enjoyable. He can feel himself, getting close again.

Eddie just can't do it. He wants to, but he can't. He wants to fill you up with his cum again. He wants to make a mess of you the same way you did for him. Unfortunately his cock is too worn out and and sensitive to give you another.

You listened and halted.

"No more." He breathed.

"Want me to stop this time?"

Eddie nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Regretfully, he had to stop. He's drained in more ways than one.

His face all the way to his neck is beet red. If his chest wasn't covered in tattoos, you'd guess he was that color all over.

He lets out a shuddered breath, running a hand in his hair. You take the opportunity to carefully remove him from inside you. Wincing a little at the sudden loss. His cum dripping out of your pussy and down your trembling legs a little getting on him as well. Eddie is quivering beneath you. There is a trail of his cum left behind on his abdomen and chest from his previous orgasm.

You laid back down next to where he was. His cock sore and tired from the abuse you just gave it. You and Eddie lay there not speaking for a while. The only sounds are low hums coming from the A/C. Your breathing evening out.

"Ya okay?" You asked softly, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, I...I feel fan-fuckin-tastic, actually." Eddie laughed, recalling what just happened.

"Well, I should probably get ready to go now." You announce trying to hide the sadness in your voice.

"You're not gonna stay a little longer?" He moves to sit up.

"D-did you want me to stay?" You eyed him curiously.

"....well, yeah." His voice now very horse from grunting for so long. He shifts to look you in the eyes. Letting you know he's serious.

"You can sleep here if you want and leave in the morning. Check out isn't until 11:am."

"Oh okay..I'll stay." You smiled over to him.

"Cool! Hey, did you want to hear this new song I'm working on?" Eddie exclaimed, trying to stand on his wobbly legs.

He carefully walks over to his guitar, still completely naked, and his hair disheveled.

"Is that even a question?" You pick up his discarded grungy t-shirt throwing it over your head. You never realized how cold his room felt until now.

For the rest of the night, Eddie spent the majority of the time playing you little snippets of songs he's been writing. He'd ask you for honest feedback, which you gave.

"Ya know, I'm definitely gonna be writing a song about you." He stated, strumming lazily on his guitar.

Your eyes widened as you laughed at what you thought was a joke." You're serious?"

"As a heart attack." Eddie smiled before getting off the couch, tackling you back on the bed and attacking your neck. Having you both giggling like maniacs.

After this night, you became a legend in your own right. You swore you'd never tell a soul about this, but It didn't take long after the song was officially released for everyone to put two and together. Eddie kept his word about writing a song after you. He didn't mention you were his first, but that's okay. That can be your little secret together. The best kept secret.

Corroded Coffin would go off to win two grammys and headline stadium tours. You went to see them when they came into town, and Eddie gave you the VIP treatment. You promised yourself you wouldn't catch feelings. That was hard to do when he would serenade you in his hotel room.

Eddie was too charming and caring to avoid any of that. You knew better, and you curse yourself for even going against your own set of rules. You were sure Eddie didn't feel the same. He just had a special bond with you after you took his virginity. He definitely didn't possess any true feelings for you besides admiration and friendship. Or did he? Only time will tell.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #rockstar!eddiemunson #eddie munson smut #my writing #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #virgin!eddie munson #sub!eddie #virgin!eddie x reader

[caxde]

bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3

It was warm outside. 

Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping. 

You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer. 

You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve. 

You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door. 

You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could. 

“Hi.” 

It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes. 

“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out. 

She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded. 

“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her. 

You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun. 

“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you. 

“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you. 

“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers. 

But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty. 

pretty, pretty, pretty. 

Your cheeks become warmer, pinker. 

As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said. 

He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms. 

He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips. 

You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him. 

“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner. 

“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider. 

If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close. 

He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet. 

He wasn’t used to this though. 

A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom. 

“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms. 

Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment. 

The thought made him smile to himself.

“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction. 

He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile. 

Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him. 

But you didn’t. 

Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met. 

“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean. 

“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours. 

“That’s us.” 

“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple. 

“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back. 

You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened. 

You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind. 

It felt as if you were finally on the right path. 

-

“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window. 

She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon. 

“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa. 

He could scream out of excitement once she finally did. 

“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door. 

She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you. 

Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him. 

“Once I get back from work, deal?” 

Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up. 

He enjoyed this little moment. 

Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of. 

Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment. 

“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her. 

“She did.” 

“Who?” 

“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window. 

“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning. 

“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard. 

“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy. 

“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you. 

“Okay bug, see you in a bit?” 

“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss. 

“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him. 

“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded. 

And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home. 

You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally. 

“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him. 

He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up. 

“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets. 

“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in. 

“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up. 

“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-” 

“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?” 

Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing. 

While you had to try hard to hide your excitement. 

“You don’t have to…” 

“Shut up. She deserves it.” 

Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse. 

“What time were you thinking?” 

“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…” 

“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.” 

He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway. 

“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush. 

“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.” 

He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot. 

-

You might have gone a bit overboard. 

You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe. 

The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one. 

Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics. 

You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control. 

Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing. 

A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began. 

“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready. 

Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to. 

Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard. 

“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think. 

“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad. 

Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her. 

He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough. 

Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around. 

Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette  tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways. 

“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing. 

“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no. 

“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music. 

The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.

“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely. 

He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was. 

“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.” 

“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?” 

“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response. 

“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning. 

“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you. 

“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach. 

“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them. 

-

You were on the couch. 

Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really. 

You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily. 

Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good. 

He didn’t really know you. 

Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet. 

Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough. 

It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there. 

Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while. 

You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much. 

While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much. 

You didn’t care. Not at all. 

Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.

-

part 2 is up!

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[headkiss]

you’ll always know me

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: even as the crowds at his shows get bigger and bigger, eddie munson still has you, his very best friend. or, (for my swifties) eddie munson is your dorothea.

word count: 8.6k

warnings: fluff, a little angst, childhood best friends to lovers (sort of), weed and smoking, librarian!reader, first kiss, so many uses of the words “i miss you,” and some idiots in love !!!

a/n: hiiiii!!! this one took so long but i really love rockstar!eddie and i hope you do too!!! this is inspired by tis the damn season and especially dorothea by taylor swift <3 thank you to my love @inkluvs for encouraging me on this one ily!!!

♫♩♪♬

It’s surreal to watch someone close to you grow so much bigger than the town you live in.

To know that the person you see on the news, at award shows on your TV screen, is the same one who used to push you on the swings at the playground, who used to walk with you to and from school, who grew up beside you, closer than anyone else ever could have.

Closer than anyone ever would, still.

To most people, he’s Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of Corroded Coffin. To you, he’s Eddie, the best friend you’ve ever had.

You can go back years and years, and Eddie’s woven into your life for so much of it. So is his music. You can pick out the points: watching Corroded Coffin play for the first time in middle school, watching their first gig at the Hideout, being in the front row for it all wearing the widest smile, having the loudest cheers.

Even the late night phone calls you’d get when he’d be stuck on lyrics, when he wanted someone’s opinion and chose to dial your number instead of his bandmates’.

(“Hello?”

“I can’t get this line to sound right.”

“Let’s hear it, Munson.”)

You’re often in disbelief of where he is now. Not because you ever doubted him, but because even after so long, it’s strange not to see him every day. You’re insanely proud of him, but that doesn’t mean you don’t miss him.

Because you do. You miss him so much.

A box sits on the top shelf of your closet, one filled with newspaper and magazine clippings, articles about the band’s success, positive reviews about their shows and their albums. Things to show that Eddie’s dream came true, and that’s a rare thing.

There’s only one kind of tabloid you choose not to keep: the ones booming with rumors you selfishly hope aren’t true.

‘Lead singer of Corroded Coffin has a new spark? Read more to find out who’s caught famous bad boy Eddie Munson’s eye.’

You see him constantly in pictures, through a screen, but you only really ever see him on holidays, when he’s able to come home. When he comes bursting back into your life in vibrant fireworks with his stupid, pretty smile and stupid, shining brown eyes. When he comes back only to leave all over again.

You only have yourself to blame, really, for letting it tear you up. Because more than anything, you’re happy for him, so happy you could never express it properly, but still, there’s an ache in you when he crosses your mind, when the feelings linger.

Life in Hawkins for you consists of working at the library, reading your days and thoughts away, hanging out with the gang when you’re up to it, and that’s about it.

Eddie always knows where to find you when he does come home, usually barging into the library with his arms open for a hug, one you rush into easily. You always spend the couple days he has in Hawkins together, being the you and him you’ve been since you were kids. But the lingering reminder doesn’t fade, the reminder of him having to leave looming over you like a storm cloud.

Eddie Munson comes home sporadically, unknowingly taking your heart with him wherever he goes. And when his inevitable departure takes place, you’re forced to regrow what’s missing from your chest. Every single time.

-

Besides his uncle Wayne, who could only ever see him as a troublemaking kid, you’re the only person who’s never treated Eddie any differently.

Not in high school when he was labeled a freak, not even when the fame rose so suddenly it felt like a tidal wave. You kept him afloat. You keep him afloat.

He knows he should call more often, he knows that even if the phone works both ways, you really don’t have a way of keeping track of which hotel he’s in, which state, which country, even. He knows that falls on him.

Your phone number’s burned into Eddie’s memory. He could never forget it, and still, he can’t seem to find the time to dial it. He’ll get called away, or he’ll just be getting back from a show and barely have the energy to shower before getting in bed. Worse, he’ll get the panicked sense that you won’t pick up anymore.

At least he’s never missed your birthday. That, he’ll always make time for, usually phoning you at the same time that a bouquet of flowers arrives at your door. And somehow, even when he’s away, you don’t miss his birthday, either.

Eddie’s sitting on the small couch in his dressing room, waiting to go on stage, thinking of you the way he often does.

He wonders if you think of him, too. If you miss him or if you’re angry that he’s gone so often, that he can barely even manage a fucking phone call. Though, you were never the type to be angry. Never with him, at least.

He wants to hear your voice, wants to hear you tell him ‘good luck’ before going on stage like you used to. He peeks at the table next to the couch. Eddie’s not sure how much time he has before he needs to go, but he figures it’s worth a try.

Just as he’s about to pick up the phone in his dressing room, there’s a knock on the door.

“Munson! You’re on in five!”

He’ll call you later, then.

-

“Beginning descent to the Indianapolis International Airport.”

The muffled sound through the airplane’s speakers is followed by the ding of the seatbelt signs being turned on. Eddie shifts in his seat to look out the window. He’s got his own little cubicle in first class, and though this is how he always flies now (other than when he finds himself on a private jet, which is even more unbelievable), he’s still not used to it.

He’s itching to get out of this seat, then he remembers that he’s still got the trek through the airport and the drive back to Hawkins. It’ll be worth it to see Wayne, who he doesn’t see nearly as often as he should, and get his classic hug with a slap on his shoulder.

It’ll be worth it to see you, who makes Hawkins feel more like home. You, who reminds him of the person he’s always been, the parts that get lost on the road. You, who hugs him tighter than anyone else ever has.

His hands clench into fits in his lap.

As soon as Eddie steps off the plane, his security team finds him. He’d assured them that he’d be fine, really, but this is how it is for him now. Through baggage claim and all the way to the car that’s waiting for him outside, security takes a step whenever he does.

Shutting the car door as he slides into the backseat, Eddie tips his head back and sighs.

The car ride feels shorter than usual, the city fading into trees and fields until the ‘Welcome to Hawkins’ sign comes into view. The gravel crunches under the car’s tires as it pulls into the trailer park. Wayne’s got enough to get a better place now, Eddie made sure of it, but he never did. He’d never admit it but Wayne’s sentimental, and the trailer houses too many memories to let go of it.

After all, it was home.

Stepping through the front door there’s the smell that he’d never noticed until he’d been gone for weeks at a time. The settled dust, the faint smoke of cigarettes, coffee, and the room spray Wayne inevitably uses to try and cover it all up.

Eddie drags his bags inside, waves to his driver, and shuts the door behind him.

Then, Wayne’s warm rasp, “my boy. Get in okay?”

He’s wrapped in his uncle’s classic hug quickly, the pats on his shoulder and all. Eddie closes his eyes and soaks it in, just for a second, “yeah. It was fine.”

“Good, good,” Wayne says, pulling back and grasping Eddie’s shoulders, getting a good look at him. “Take a shower.”

“Is that your way of telling me I look like shit?”

“Nah, that’s me telling you that you smell like airport, boy.”

“It’s great to see you, too,” Eddie says, smiling.

He and Wayne have the kind of relationship that time doesn’t really affect all that much. Whether Eddie’s away for a week or a month, or two, or three, they fall back into things like he’d never even left.

He knows Wayne’s probably lonely, probably hiding more than he could imagine, but he also knows that he loves him, and that’s always a good thing to know, to feel. Loved.

“Shut up, you know I missed you,” Wayne shakes Eddie’s shoulders and lets go, “now go wash up and you can tell me about your last show over some coffee, sound good?”

“Sounds good. I missed you too, Wayne.”

Eddie carries his bags into his room, leaving them open on the ground rather than unpacking. He’ll just have to pack them all over again, anyways.

Before long, the trailer’s small bathroom is filling with steam as Eddie steps into the shower, dropping his neck back and letting the water run over his shoulders, his back. He stands like that for a bit, simply letting the heat melt away at the tension in his muscles.

By the time he steps out, the mirror is completely fogged with steam, and Eddie wipes away at a section to look at himself. The bags under his eyes, the mess of his hair that he doesn’t bother taming, the small scratch on his chin from one of his rings. He shakes his head and heads into his room with his towel around his waist.

He throws on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a faded band tee, his hair soaking the back of it drop by drop.

In the kitchen, Wayne’s got two mugs of coffee sitting on the small table, a seat already pulled out for Eddie to take.

“Thanks.”

He nods, sipping from his mug as Eddie does the same.

In the silence, he can’t help but think of you, of how close he is to you now. Mere minutes away. He wonders what you’re doing, if you’re reading in bed after your shift, if you’d just showered like him, if you’re thinking of him, too.

“I saw her the other day,” Wayne says.

They both know he means you.

“How’s she doing?”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll ask her that when you see her tomorrow, but she seemed good.”

“How'd you know I’m gonna see her tomorrow?”

“Come on, kid. You go to the library the day after you get in every time and think I don’t notice?”

Eddie looks down at the mug in his hands, his face warm. It shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t have him feeling all shy and nervous, like he’d been caught, but it does.

“She misses you,” Wayne adds.

“She tell you that?”

“Doesn’t have to. I’ve known that girl since she was little and running after you on the playground. I can tell.”

Wayne has always said that you’re as good as family, after all. Eddie used to joke that his uncle liked you more than him, and you used to laugh and joke back that he was right.

Eddie’s suddenly very excited to sleep, only to get to tomorrow quicker.

“I miss her, too.”

“Yeah, kid. I know,” Wayne leaves it there, switching things over, “I saw you almost eat shit on TV the other day.”

“Come on!” Eddie groans. He’d tripped over a fucking wire on stage. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was still fuckin’ funny.”

“Of all the shows, you just had to tune in for that one.”

Wayne asks about the tour, about how Eddie’s liking it this time around, about whether or not there’s anything new he’s working on.

In return, Eddie asks about the mechanic’s, about whether or not Wayne’s back has been acting up (which earns him a light slap on the back of the head), about what’s changed in Hawkins since the last time he’d been home.

Even through the smiles he shares with his uncle, Eddie’s wondering how you’ll react when you see him tomorrow, picturing how it’ll feel to be near you again. He gets that feeling in his gut, the butterflies that are nerves and excitement and questions and feelings rolled into one.

He’s pretty sure he dreams about you, too.

-

Your shifts at the library are always long; full days of scanning and shelving books. You’re lucky to say that you actually like your job. The smell of worn pages, the peacefulness (save for when Dustin comes barging in with his stack of overdue books that you let him off the hook for every time), the interactions that are almost always short and sweet since it’s meant to be a quiet place.

Your eight or nine or however many hour days go by much quicker now than they did during your high school job at the grocery store, that’s for sure.

You’re pushing the put-back cart between shelves, humming a random song quietly as you place the books where they belong, sometimes pausing to straighten things out. It’s the middle of a weekday and you’re the only person in there anyway. That is, until the small bell on the front desk dings.

“Just a second!” You call, squeezing between the cart and the self beside it to walk over to the front desk. You think your heart stops altogether.

You’d recognize that head of hair anywhere, the dark, frizzy curls. Hell, you’d recognize that damn denim vest anywhere, even the stance of the person wearing it. “Eddie?”

He turns around at the sound of your voice, and something lifts from his chest when he sees you. A grin spreads wide on his face, splitting his cheeks and crinkling his eyes in the corners, “there she is.”

Usually, when he comes home, it’s on a holiday and you’re expecting him, watching the door and waiting for him to walk through it. This time, you had no idea he’d be coming home. It’s the best surprise you could get.

You’re practically running into his arms, and he wraps them around your waist easily, yours tossed around his shoulders. Your face is buried in his neck, breathing him in, making sure this is real. “What the hell are you doing here?”

His hands clutch at the fabric over your sides, his head twisting so he can place a kiss over your hair, “had a break from tour. Missed home.”

And sure, Eddie hadn’t really realized just how much he missed it until he came back, it’s crystal clear now, with you hugging him. He really, really missed home.

You want to say something stupid and emotional like it hasn’t felt as much like home until now, or I missed the sound of your voice and the smell of your shampoo, but that would probably reveal a little too much.

“Just home you missed or…” you tease, pulling back to look at his face, his brown eyes that sort of sparkle. Your hands stay on his shoulders, his on your waist.

“I missed Wayne, obviously,” Eddie replies, acting oblivious and smiling at the small furrow in your brow.

“Eddie!”

“Aw, come on.” He tugs you in for another hug, his cheek squished against the side of your head. “‘Course I missed you, trouble.”

Trouble. You never knew you could miss a single word so much.

Eddie started calling you ‘trouble’ when you were kids, sometime in middle school when you’d stolen a bunch of his mixtapes and only returned them weeks later, when he finally noticed. He’d snatched them out of your hands and muttered ‘you’re trouble’ and it just stuck.

“Thank you,” you say, laughing when Eddie pulls back frowning at you. “And I missed you, too. Duh.”

“Duh.” He mocks. He lets go of you fully but doesn’t go far, leaning an elbow against the desk, “you’re doing okay?”

“I’m good. Things don’t change all that much around here, you know that.”

“I’m not asking about around here, I’m asking ‘bout you.”

You tug at the hair tie on your wrist. “I’m fine, Eddie. Promise.”

He nods, and there’s a small lull in the conversation that pinches at your chest for some reason. The sort of silence that never used to be there when it came to you and Eddie, always filling it with conversation or letting it be comfortable. Now, there’s something like awkwardness stretching and it stings.

Because it shouldn’t be there, because he’s Eddie and you’re you and you’re best friends and that’s all there should be to it. But it isn’t. You’re the same people, but so much is different.

“You working late?” He asks.

“Until we close.”

“Care for some company?”

You tilt your head at him, “you really wanna hang around the library for the last four hours of my shift?”

“Sounds like fun to me. I’ll even push the cart for you, and you can tell me what I’ve missed while I was away.”

It’s funny that he thinks he’d ever have to convince you to spend time with him, when you’re practically pulling at any thread of him that you can, when you’re taking anything he has to give you. Two days, a week, a couple of phone calls.

It’s all better than not having him at all.

“Only if you tell me what I’ve missed, too. Like all the cool celebrities you’ve met.”

“Not as cool as you, trouble.” Eddie taps your nose, smiling at the way you scrunch it in response.

“Shut up and start pushing the cart, Munson.”

He stands straight and salutes, “yes ma’am.”

You’re still smiling when you shake your head, “idiot.”

Eddie really does spend the rest of the day with you, pushing the cart while you re-shelf books, sitting in the extra chair behind the counter while you file returns, ducking when someone else walks in.

He asks you about Robin and Steve, Dustin and Lucas, how the kids are finding school, whether Nancy’s been hired at a big paper yet. He asks you about your family, and most of all, about you.

He hangs onto every word you say. And not once do you say anything to make him feel bad for being away, if anything, you can’t stop telling him how proud you are, especially when he talks to you about what’s in the works.

“I always told you you’d make it, Munson.”

“Wouldn’t have done it without you, trouble.”

-

The next morning, you’re sitting across from him in the corner booth by the window at Benny’s for breakfast. The same way you did every Friday in high school, at the same table.

Whenever you wind up at Benny’s when Eddie’s away, you tend to avoid that booth. It’s pathetic. Like his absence is clearer than ever sitting there when he isn’t. When he’s not putting whipped cream on your nose or stealing food off your plate.

Now, it’s his presence that surrounds you, his smile and his laugh, his foot nudging yours under the table.

The menu is sticky under your fingertips where you hold it, faded from sunlight and discolored from coffee spills that stain the page. You don’t really need to be looking at it—after years of coming here, you’ve probably got the thing memorized—but you need the time to collect yourself. To remember that this is Eddie, and there’s nothing to be nervous about.

You need the time to stuff down that flutter in your gut and in your chest.

On the other side of the booth, Eddie takes your distraction as a chance to really look at you. The details he can’t seem to picture when he’s away like the flecks in your eyes or the exact shade of your lips.

He never realizes just how much he misses you until he’s home. Until he’s sitting across from you and listening to the sound of your voice clearly instead of through a crackling phone’s speaker, until he gets to see the way your eyes light up slightly when you laugh.

It sort of hits him all at once, and he’s thinking, God, I should call more often. I should visit more often.

After a couple of minutes, you look back at Eddie, “you know what you want?”

“I’ve been getting the same thing since high school, trouble. Don’t need the menu.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go order,” you say, placing your menu back in the holder by the window.

When you start sliding your way out of the booth, Eddie places a hand over yours on the table, “I can get it.”

You look down at your hands, his skin on yours, like you’d expected to see something there. A spark, a burn scorching your skin in the best way.

“I know you can,” you say, smiling at him. “But it’s my treat, okay? I want to get it.”

Eddie always feels sort of guilty when he’s not buying, because he has more than enough money to take care of it, more than he knows what to do with. Sometimes (often), people expect him to pay, even. And just like you’d known how he was feeling, you shut it down with a flash of your smile.

You shift to squeeze his hand before getting up and heading over to the counter, leaning on your elbows as you wait your turn.

Still, Eddie’s looking at you, his hand in the same spot on the table.

He knows that, despite it not being a busy morning at Benny’s, people are looking at him, whispering the way they did even in school. Only now, they’re saying they can’t believe it, look at him now, instead of calling him a freak. And just like in school, having you around makes the talk bearable. Hell, it makes it disappear, if only for a little while.

When the waiter finally comes over to take your order, you send him a kind smile, rattling off yours and Eddie’s orders.

Eddie watches the entire interaction. He tells himself it’s because he doesn’t want to make eye contact with anyone else, that it’s because he’s just making sure you’re alright. It’s certainly not because of how pretty he thinks you look today, not because of how hard it is to keep his eyes off of you.

The waiter is a younger guy, probably around your age. Someone Eddie doesn’t know. He seems to tell you a joke because you laugh, bright and sunny, and Eddie suddenly wishes that Benny was the one taking orders.

Because he should be the one to make you laugh like that, to be on the receiving end of your grin and crinkled eyes. Because there’s this weight in his stomach that feels a little too much like jealousy. Because you’re his best friend and he fucking misses you.

Eddie looks down at his hands and twists his rings around and around until you come back, the old booth squeaking as you sit down.

“You okay?” You ask, always noticing his nervous habit of fiddling with his rings.

She’s my friend, he reminds himself. My best friend, that’s all.

“‘Course I am.”

“The guy at the counter, Dan, wanted me to tell you he’s a fan.”

He shakes his head, “I can't believe I have those. Especially in this town.”

“Excuse me? Your biggest fan is sitting right here, in this town, Munson.”

He probably thinks you’re joking with the way he chuckles, chest rumbling. But, you’re not. The shoebox full of clippings says enough, and you don’t think he’d ever let you live it down if he knew about it.

“She want an autograph?” He teases, the heaviness in his stomach melting away. Your biggest fan.

“In your chicken scratch? Yeah right.”

It’s not long before your food arrives, plates of waffles and fruit, sides of bacon and hashbrowns. Of course, you inevitably end up with whipped cream on your nose and food missing from your plate.

It’s your favorite kind of breakfast.

-

You’re sitting in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van—the same van he’s had since high school, that he refuses to replace—heading towards Steve’s place. It’s not unusual for either of you to be meeting up with the gang, but Eddie’s still nervous.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks you.

They don’t know he’s in town, and as sure as you are that they’ll be thrilled to see him, Eddie isn’t convinced. You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze lightly as he drives.

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy to see you. Don’t you trust me?”

“‘Course I do,” he says easily, without thinking, “just haven’t seen anyone in a while, you know?”

“We all miss you, Eddie. It’ll be fun!”

Logically, he knows nobody’s gonna kick him out, or treat him any differently, but it doesn’t stop him from getting nervous. You wanted to surprise everyone, and how could he say no to you? So, here he is, gripping the steering wheel too tight and worrying too much.

Pulling into the driveway, he nods, “here we go.”

You hop out of the van before he has it shut off, but he catches up quickly. He follows you to the side gate of the house, watches you unlatch it and stroll into the yard. The sound of voices mingling hits his ears as you walk around the house and find your group of friends sitting around in lounge chairs.

“Look who I brought,” You announce.

Your shout is followed by eyes flicking towards you, then Eddie who stands beside you. Then, a chorus of his name, plus Argyle’s “rockstar!”

“Hey guys,” he says, waving shyly.

It’s odd to feel this way around these people that he’s known for years. Robin and Steve who’ve rented him way too many movies for free, Nancy and Johnathan who are probably why he graduated high school, and Argyle who was always his most loyal customer.

All of these memories and he feels a little too much like a stranger. At least he’s got you, who feels like one of the only sure things in his life. No matter how long goes by, you’re there, and he hopes you always will be.

“You want a drink?” Steve asks, leaning to reach into the cooler beside him.

“I’ll take one, thanks,” you say, catching the can Steve throws to you.

“I’m driving,” Eddie says, jingling his keys.

“Eddie Munson being responsible,” Robin teases, “they grow up so fast.”

And just like that, he feels a little better. These are his friends, and even though he’s not around all of the time, and even though he may not be as close to everyone anymore, they’ll still be his friends.

You sit down on the empty lounge chair and pat the space beside you for Eddie, sending him a smile that says both ‘told you so,’ in your snark he can practically hear, and ‘everything’s okay,’ in your kind way.

He plops down beside you.

“How’s everything going?” Johnathan asks him.

Not wanting all of the attention on him, Eddie keeps his answer short, “busy, but it’s a ton of fun.”

“Everything you ever dreamed of?” Robin adds.

“You could definitely say that.”

Though, Eddie has this strange feeling that he’s missing something whenever he’s gone. It’ll go away, but somehow, it always finds him again, when he’s debating on calling or not, when he’s hit with a memory of you in the front row at the Hideout when he’s on stage.

He looks over at you and finds you smiling softly at him, eyes fond. He can’t believe he’s the one you’re looking at like that.

Eddie blinks and turns back to the group, “how about you guys? How’re the jobs?”

The chatter picks up and surrounds him, but Eddie can’t stop thinking about the way you were looking at him just then. He’s never had someone look at him like that, like there’s nothing but affection there.

It’s platonic, he tells himself. She’s my best friend.

You feel happier now than you have in a while. Things feel more complete when Eddie’s around. Things feel right. It’s all of your favorite people with no empty chair, it’s falling back into a friendship that’s existed for years.

When conversations split off into smaller ones, you lean your head on his shoulder, and the words sort of slip out of you, “it’s really nice to have you here.”

His heart beats louder, he leans his head on top of yours, “it’s nice to be home.”

And it is. Eddie loves touring, he loves playing his music, and he loves his job, but at the end of the day, he’ll always be this boy from Hawkins, and he’ll always be happy to be home, to be with you.

Catching the moment, Argyle—always sharing his thoughts—says, “sick, you guys are finally together.”

You and Eddie both sit up, like you’d been caught doing something you shouldn’t, even when you’ve sat like that countless times before.

Everyone’s eyes seem to be on the both of you now, and you have a tiny panic inside. Have you really been that obvious with how you feel? Does Eddie know and he hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t want to hurt you?

You laugh awkwardly, “what?”

“Like, dating,” Argyle explains.

“Me and Eddie?”

He’d been frozen for a second there, surprised that Argyle thought that. Was he seeing something Eddie couldn’t? No, no way.

“Just friends, guys,” Eddie says. “Come on.”

You swallow, forcing out a word, “exactly.”

“They’ve always been like this,” Nancy says, which explains enough but also sort of nothing at all.

Just friends. It’s something you know, you remind yourself constantly. It’s all it’ll ever be, and still, hearing Eddie say it out loud has your stomach feeling heavy. Just friends, get over it.

Even as conversation picks up again, as you laugh with everyone, the two words play in your head over and over. Then, after saying your goodbyes, once you’re in the van with Eddie again, it fades, because if you can’t be in love with him, you can be his best friend, and you’d much rather have that than nothing at all.

Once he drops you off, Eddie thinks and thinks about what Argyle had said. He goes over memories, over how he feels around you, and it hits him like a huge punch to the gut.

He thinks he has feelings for you. Big, huge feelings.

-

It’s the same day, a different sky, the sun sunk behind the horizon to give way to a sky full of stars and a bright moon.

Eddie’s van is parked by Lover’s Lake, the back full of blankets where you both sit, the doors open to look at the sky and the way the moonlight reflects on the water.

There’s practically an indent in the ground in the spot he’s parked, the one that’s been your go-to for ages. From day picnics to nighttime smoke sessions, it’s another place on the list of the ones that are filled with memories of Eddie.

Beside you, he’s got a joint in hand, the flick of his lighter catching your ears over the crickets and the breeze. You watch him inhale, his chest expanding, the smoke slipping from his lips. You turn back to the water.

“Your turn,” he says, handing you the joint.

You grab it between your fingertips and bring it to your mouth, feeling the smoke trail down your throat, further, then you’re breathing it out, clearing your throat at the tickle.

“Out of practice?” Eddie teases at your small cough.

“My favorite weed dealer went out of business,” you say, nudging his shoulder with yours, “so, yeah.”

He takes the joint back from you, “you don’t smoke when I’m not around? You know Argyle’s gotta have some stock.”

“Oh, he definitely does. A little too exotic for my taste. Besides, he won’t give it to me for free.”

“Getting cheap, trouble?”

You shrug, shoulder to your cheek, and give him an innocent smile.

It feels easy, the joint being passed back and forth between sentences until it’s done and stubbed out, the flow of conversation, the comfort that’s there. It’s always been easy with him, even when it hurts a little.

Eddie’s got on his worn denim vest, still full of pins, and you tug at it, “think this thing has a permanent weed smell by now.”

“I think that’s just part of my natural scent,” he replies, playfully flipping his hair over his shoulder.

His curls graze your cheek—that’s how close you’re sitting, thighs touching—and you giggle. You’ve had so many nights just like this one with Eddie, and it feels like some kind of reward that you get to have them still, even when they’re far less regular now.

“Doesn’t this make you think of high school?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Eddie’s hand is on his knee, his pinky twitches, reaching for your leg, “hell, I’m even wearing the same clothes as in high school.”

“How does it feel like yesterday and also a lifetime ago?”

Eddie looks over at you, the warm glow of moonlight and stars on your skin, the way your sweater hangs off your shoulder, the shine in your eyes that’s part weed and part nostalgia.

“A lot’s changed since then,” he says. “I’m not a loser anymore.”

“You’re still my loser.”

How is it that even when you’re calling him a loser, the idea of being yours in any sense of the word is enough to have Eddie’s heart swell in his chest, a balloon floating up and up and he has to swallow to push it back down.

“Stop being cheesy,” he plays it off, ruffling your hair.

You shove his arm away, “I just miss you!”

Eddie looks at his arm, your hand still holding onto it, he follows your arm with his gaze until it lands on your face. He thinks you’re beautiful, the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and no groupie could change that.

“I miss you, too, trouble.”

Something shifts, the air growing thicker, a sort of understanding between the two of you. There’s something here, something that could be a disaster but could also be so, so good. Could be everything.

“No way you think about me when you’ve got crowds and fans and-“

“I think about you a lot, honey.”

Honey. He’s probably called you that before, but never like this. Never dripping sweet and sincere, never looking at you like he wants to do something you can’t even let yourself imagine in fear of being let down, of hoping too much.

Eddie’s hand shifts from his own leg to yours, thumb running back and forth, burning you even through the fabric of your pants.

“You do?”

“All the time. You’re my best friend.”

Right. Friend.

“You’re mine, too, Eddie.”

And suddenly you can feel his breath fan across your cheek, your lips. His face is close to yours and the hair that falls over his forehead tickles yours. Just a second ago he’d been saying the word ‘friend,’ and now it feels like he’s going to do something to contradict that.

Against all odds, he does.

Eddie couldn’t help himself. Maybe he’ll blame the weed, or maybe he won’t, but before he knows it he’s reaching up with the hand that isn’t on his leg to cup your cheek and tilt your head. And he’s kissing you.

He’s kissing you.

It’s so delicate, so much you’re afraid to even breathe, like it’ll break in an instant. Eddie’s fingers squeeze your leg, urge you to kiss him back and there’s no way that you wouldn’t. Not when his lips are actually on yours, not when he tastes like weed and mint gum and something perfect.

It could be seconds or minutes that you’re kissing, tilting your head even more to feel him, clutching his sleeve tightly. It never deepens, but it doesn’t have to, it says enough.

When you pull away, it’s not one or the other who does it, it’s natural, like it’s been rehearsed time and time again. Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his hand still on your cheek.

“Was that a bad idea?” He asks you, voice low and quiet.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” And you don’t, because there’s no way of knowing what’s gonna happen next, if things will be ruined, if this will fade away like it never happened, or, maybe, just maybe, if it’ll start something.

“Was it okay?”

“More than okay.”

You don’t talk about it that night, and you don’t want to just yet. You’re fine with enjoying the pink-tinted haze at least until tomorrow.

-

Eddie’s barely been gone for two days and you’re not sure what to do with yourself. After that night, neither of you brought it up, and as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. You were scared. And anyway, it was probably just the weed for him.

You’d never kissed before. Sure, you’ve come close, faces inches apart when you’d share a bed, whispers away, but nothing ever happened. Until now.

Now, sitting on your bed, chin resting on your knees, you’re reeling from knowing what Eddie’s lips feel like and missing him all over again. Rebuilding that piece in your chest.

Somewhere else in the country, in the world, Eddie’s position isn’t so different from yours. He’s sitting on the edge of his hotel bed, forearms on his knees, head bent. He wants to call you, and he’s figuring out what he’ll say when he does.

He misses you every time he isn’t home, but it’s never felt like this. There’s never been this ache in his stomach that won’t go away because of it. Fuck, he misses you more than ever.

The last trip back to Hawkins was different than anything else, because he brought back these feelings with him and he keeps reaching up to press his fingertips to his lips, like the memory of your own lingers there.

Sure, he’s had silly, sticky thoughts like waking up with his arms around you after a nap and thinking he could wake up that way forever, but he’s always pushed them down. Now, it seems, he can’t, the images too buoyant to ignore, floating back up every time.

Sucking in a deep breath, he sits up and reaches for the phone, dialing your number that’s stored in his memory. His leg bounces as the phone rings.

You’re startled by the screech of your phone on your bedside table, head lifting to look at it shake on the receiver. You reach over and pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, trouble. It’s not a bad time, is it?”

Eddie. His voice crackling through the phone sends a spike down your spine. You clutch the phone a little tighter.

You’d expected Robin, or Nancy, even Steve. Because there’d been a time, earlier in Corroded Coffin’s career, when Eddie would call you at least three times a week, and then the calls grew less frequent until they sort of died out to holidays and birthdays.

So, maybe a couple of years ago, you’d have expected Eddie’s voice, but not today.

“Eddie, hi. Not at all.”

“I- um, I just wanted to call,” a small pause, he clears his throat, “how are you?”

“It’s only been two days, you know how I am.”

“I mean right now.”

You twist to lay on your side, legs curling in towards your chest. You smile to yourself like an idiot. “Right now, I’m good. It’s lame, I already miss you.”

“I miss you, too.”

The reply comes easily to him. There’s no thought to it, because in the past 48 hours, he hasn’t been able to stop missing you for a second. The warmth of your hand in his, the sunshine sound of your laughter.

He’s not sure why everything’s so big now, his feelings amplified, only quieted now, by the sound of your voice.

“Did you have a show today?”

You have a way of asking that makes it sound like you really care, Eddie thinks. He loves his music and he knows you know that. It means the world to him to do what he does, confusing feelings or not.

“Not today. We spent the day on the bus. Show’s tomorrow.”

“Nervous or excited?”

It’s something that you used to ask him before every small show in Hawkins, and the memory has a grin spreading on Eddie’s face. “It’s always both. More excited, though.”

“You should be,” you say. “You guys are really great.”

“Yeah? Who’s your favorite band member?”

He’s fishing, and you tease him rather than bite, “hmmm. Gareth.”

“Fuckin’ trouble. You liar.”

“You asked!”

“You answered the question wrong, honey.”

There it is again. Honey. You’re sort of glad he can’t see you right now because you probably look way too happy, burying your face in your pillow for a second before replying.

“You know you’re my favorite, Munson.”

“Yeah I am,” he sounds far too proud. And then, he’s softer, “I’m not keeping you up, am I? Time zones fuck me up.”

“No, no.” Even if he was, you wouldn’t tell him. This is better than trying and failing to sleep the way you so often do. “It’s not that late. What time is it for you?”

“Not that late,” he says, even though the clock on the nightstand reads 1:14AM. “So, what’s happening in Hawkins right now?”

“Mmm, it’s getting warmer. My window’s open and the crickets are loud as fuck.” You twist the phone cord around your fingers, “it’s donation week at the library, so I’ve been shelving new books for a change.”

Eddie listens to every word you say, asks you questions like if you’d kept any books for yourself (you had, but swore you’d give them to the library when you were done) and hums between your sentences.

Somewhere along the way, he’d laid down while listening to you, eyes shut as he tried to picture what you might look like right at this second. If you’re in your pajamas or not, whether your hair would be a little messy, baby hairs a halo around your face.

Then his eyes grew heavier, your voice putting him at ease even with the sounds of his bandmates laughing from somewhere in the hotel.

“Eddie?” You ask after he’d been silent for a bit.

“Hm?” He hums sleepily.

“I lost you for a second there.”

If he wasn’t half asleep, he’d feel worse. “Sorry, getting sleepy.”

“You wanna hang up?”

“No, uh- keep talking to me? You have a nice voice.”

You smile, cheeks pinching with the size of it.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll keep talking.”

And you do, you keep talking and talking until you can hear the sound of Eddie’s tiny snores on the other side of the line. You’re smiling again at that.

Even after you’re sure he’s asleep, you don’t hang up right away, not until your own eyes are growing heavy. You put the phone back quietly, like you’ll wake him if you’re not careful. You whisper a soft ‘goodnight, Eddie,’ as you do.

There’s a small stiffness in your fingers from how tightly you’d been holding the phone, and still, you’d let your hand cramp for hours to talk to him.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with the pattern of the phone pressed to his cheek where he’d left it last night.

-

The TV sends flashes of color flickering across your living room and over your face. Usually, you’d be in bed by now, but it’s the night of the MTV awards and Corroded Coffin is nominated. You couldn’t miss it.

You’re not really paying attention to most of it, the sounds of performances and hosts and thank-you speeches filling your ears as you read your latest book. At least, you’re not paying attention until Eddie’s category is announced.

That has you shutting your book and sitting up, grabbing the remote to turn the volume higher.

They show the nominees, give far too long of an introduction before tearing open the envelope holding the winner’s names. You don’t know it, but you’re practically white knuckling the blanket on your lap.

“And the MTV award goes to… Corroded Coffin!”

You stand and place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart beating—racing—for the band, for Eddie. This is huge, it’s a dream, and it’s his. If you could, you’d give him a suffocating hug right now.

Eddie’s voice taking over, thanking his fans and Wayne, the boys and their team, then, thanking Hawkins and the people there, even when they gave him hell.

If you knew the right number to call to talk to him, you’d dial it in an instant.

Lucky for you, your phone rings the next night, late enough that you can only assume it’s Eddie given you don’t know anyone else who’s probably in a different time zone right now. You pick up quickly, fumbling with the phone a little before bringing it up to your ear.

“Eddie?”

“How’d you know it was me?”

“Ummm, my amazing intuition? Telepathy?”

“Telepathy, she says.” There’s a soft chuckle on his end, you close your eyes and lean your head back to thump against the wall behind you. “How’re things, trouble?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that, mister MTV winner.”

Eddie’s been calling more often again, whenever he gets the chance, really. Even so, he never thought you’d be keeping up with him that way, that you’d care enough to watch an award show and remember what he’d achieved.

“You were watching?” He asks, heart thudding.

“Of course I was. I’m your biggest fan, remember?” You’re sitting with your back against your headboard, knees bent, hand absentmindedly pulling at a loose thread in your pajama pants. “I’ve got cheerleader pom-poms and everything.”

“You do not.”

“Do too. They’re super metal, all black.”

“Yeah, cause pom-poms are super metal, babe.”

Another pet name in the rotation, uttered like it’s easy, natural. You bite back a smile.

“Whatever. Mine would be,” you say. “I’m glad you called.”

“Me, too.”

“I wanted to call you yesterday,” you admit, twisting that loose thread in your fingers, “after I saw you won. I’m really proud of you, Eddie.”

They’re words he hadn’t been expecting, but ones he’ll be thinking about over and over. He wants to keep making you proud, he thinks, and he’ll pour that into everything he does whether he means to or not.

“Thank you,” his voice is quieter, almost shy. “I wouldn’t be here without you, you know?”

“You would. You’re talented, and there’s no way that could stay hidden in this town, you’re bigger than it.”

Somehow, it’s easier to be so open with him on the phone. You don’t have to look at him, get distracted by his tongue running over his lips or the way his bangs get caught in his eyelashes sometimes. This way, all you have to do is speak, nothing more.

“Trouble-” he can’t even find the words to say, because there’s affection laced in your tone, seeping through the phone and into his head and, fuck, he wants to kiss you for it and he can’t. “I really miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” There’s some silence, and the overthinker in you worries that you’ve said too much even though you meant it with every part of you, that you’ve given yourself away. “Anyways, I should go, let you celebrate your win.”

It’s what he would be doing if Eddie’s thoughts hadn’t been so full of you and your mouth and your voice. It’s what his bandmates and friends are surely doing in some club around here.

“You don’t need to. I’m not doing anything.”

“No?” You try to lighten your tone, to joke the way you usually do, “don’t have groupies knocking on your hotel room door right now?”

Instead of playing along, Eddie’s voice is serious, still soft in the way he speaks to you, but serious nonetheless, “I don’t entertain them, honey.”

“You don’t?”

He’s tried. But ever since you kissed him, probably since before that, too, Eddie can’t seem to look at anyone else, let alone have someone else kiss him and tarnish the memory of your lips on his. He’s only ever thinking of you, it seems. So no, he hasn’t fooled around lately.

“Not in a while. I’m trying to write for the next album. No distractions.”

No distractions. He says it like that’s true, even though he can’t seem to fully focus, like there’s a piece he’s missing. Like every lyric he’s written since he’s been back isn’t somehow about you.

He’s so, so fucked.

“Look at you, Munson. Squeaky clean.”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re sort of a mess, a stupid blossom of hope planting itself where it shouldn’t. He’s your friend, he’s always been just your friend. But you kissed and it felt like something changed, and you can’t seem to let go of that.

“You sound surprised,” he teases, gathering his wits the best he can.

“Can you blame me? You used to have multiple lunchboxes reserved for your weed.”

“You loved those lunchboxes and you know it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

And then, like that moment was simply a blip, easily brushed over, your conversation turns back to your normal. Jokes with underlying affections, teasing while picturing what kind of smile the other wears when you laugh lightly into the phone.

Time runs away from you, and by the time you hang up it’s well into the early hours of the morning, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

-

After hanging up, Eddie’s got this sinking, aching pull in his stomach. He knows what it is, has had bouts of it before where he misses Wayne’s hand patting his back or the way his mattress is worn-in just the right amount back at the trailer, when he thinks about what his friends might be doing or what science project Dustin’s got going on.

But it’s never felt this heavy. Eddie’s the most homesick he’s ever been.

He’d listen to your voice forever, but in that moment, he’d give anything to see your face, to see the shake of your shoulders when you laugh, the curve of your smile.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Eddie wipes his palms on his thighs before standing and walking out into the living room of his band’s suite hotel room. The guys are still up, and they’re all staring at him like weirdos.

“What?” He pauses in the doorway.

“Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet, or what?” Jeff, the electric guitarist, asks him.

“What?” Eddie says again because there’s no way he heard that right. He’d only just come to terms that he had feelings. This is much bigger.

“You’re joking,” Gareth pipes in, “you don’t even know it? Dude, you’re all ‘I miss you, trouble, you’re my favorite person ever.’” He does a knowingly terrible impression of Eddie.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You kinda do,” Jeff says.

“Why else would you be spending hours in that room on the phone, man? Come on,” Gareth sing songs the next bit: “you’re in loooove.”

Then Eddie thinks and thinks and thinks. The warmth that blooms when he hugs you, the jealousy he felt when he thought that server at Benny’s was flirting with you, the difficulty to say goodbye, the way your kiss haunts him in his sleep.

These idiots aren’t usually right about things, but just this once, maybe they are. Eddie Munson is probably, very likely, definitely in love with you.

Yeah, he’s so fucked.

♫♩♪♬

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you enjoyed please please please consider reblogging and letting me know what you think! it helps and means so much <333 i have plans for a part two, and if you’d like to see it, some support would help a bunch! ily!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson request #eddie munson requests #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie #eddie stranger things #stranger things eddie #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #rockstar!eddie au

[eiightysixbaby]

i love it loud

word count: 6.5k+

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you get invited to corroded coffin’s halloween party with your best friend chrissy. you don’t anticipate on having much fun, but that changes when you meet eddie…

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. alcohol consumption, a rogue billy tries to hit on reader, use of petnames, use of y/n (like maybe a few times), oral (f receiving), fingering (f), unprotected p in v - he pulls out tho!, brief description of reader’s costume but no mention of body type/etc.

You didn’t want to go to this party. Not really. Your best friend had insisted you come with her, because arriving alone would, in her words, be social suicide. Being invited to Corroded Coffin’s Halloween party was a big deal, she’d said, even though you know she was only invited because she’s been going out with the drummer. Of course he’s going to invite his girlfriend.

You hadn’t even had a plan for a costume, and with only a couple day’s notice you didn’t have the time to prepare something good. The stores were all picked over as far as Halloween costumes go, and so you went with the most basic, half-assed option you could’ve possibly selected.

You’re dressed as a cat.

It feels silly, it feels low-effort and stupid and basic, but here you are with your fluffy tail and soft felt ears, black high heels and whiskers painted on your face. A pink nose to top it all off. You did think you looked good, you had to admit, but it definitely wasn’t the costume you would’ve preferred. You awkwardly adjust your stockings as you step up to the front door of the large house, feeling horrendously out of place.

You glance at Chrissy beside you, her hippie costume bright and colorful - an extreme contrast to your all black attire.

“Okay, just texted Gareth that we’re here,” she says, slipping her phone into her bag. “Don’t look so thrilled,” she says sarcastically, pouting at you.

“Sorry I’m not exactly excited to be at a party where I know no one,” you say.

“You know me and Gareth,” she replies, looking at you like she’s confused.

“I barely know Gareth. And don’t act like the two of you won’t be running off to bang the second you get a chance,” you smile at her, knocking shoulders playfully.

“Listen… his friend Eddie, the lead singer, is super hot. Maybe you’ll get more than you bargained for tonight.”

“I don’t know, Chris. There’s going to be a million girls at this party, do I really want to be another notch on some rockstar’s belt?” you ponder.

She doesn’t get the chance to respond before the front door is swinging open in front of you. The figure on the other side is… Peter Criss. More like, Gareth dressed as Peter Criss. Fully outfitted in leather and silver studs, hair spray painted black with white and black cat makeup on his face. You laugh a little as you take him in, and he shoots you a teasing glare.

“Hey ladies,” he greets, pulling Chrissy in for a quick kiss. “Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come.”

“You know Chris always gets what she wants,” you reply with a laugh, and he laughs with you, agreeing.

He steps to the side, ushering you both into the large foyer of the house. It’s decked out in Halloween decor; bats on the walls, fake cobwebs, hairy toy spiders with light-up red eyes. There’s orange and purple string lights hung about, and you’re honestly impressed with the detail. The house is clean, aside from the stray cup or plate left behind from the current party guests, and the decorations are carefully placed.

“Holy shit, you guys really did it up for the party,” you say, eyes wandering to every corner.

“Oh yeah, that’s all Eddie. He loves Halloween. It was his idea for us to dress like KISS,” Gareth says with a playful eye roll.

“Don’t complain, you look so good in that outfit…” Chrissy says, trailing a finger down his chest.

“I’ll have to give you the official house tour,” he says to your friend. “You coming too?” he asks you, but you shake your head.

“Think I’ll get myself a drink,” you say, sticking out your thumb in the direction of the kitchen.

“Sounds good. There’s stuff on the counter and a bar out back by the pool, you can go wherever you’d like,” Gareth says with a smile, and it’s genuine. “Make yourself at home, say hey if you see the other guys around! You can’t miss ‘em, they’ll be dressed like me,” he adds, and you laugh, waving them off as Chrissy tells you to text her if you need anything at all.

You wander into the open kitchen, pleased with the selection of liquor that awaits you. If you’re going to be spending the night alone, you might as well get pleasantly drunk, you think to yourself. People are scattered throughout the room, talking with their circles of friends and acquaintances. There’s a couple different punch bowls filled with various concoctions, each one labeled with the contents. You take your pick of the poison, scooping the liquid up with a ladle and filling your cup.

You scrunch your face as you take the first sip, lips pursing as you adjust to the bite of the alcohol. You glance around the kitchen, taking note of even more decorations as you slink into a corner alone. They seem to fill the whole house, seeping into the living room and the dining room, any area that you can see. Gareth had said it was all Eddie’s doing, and you find yourself growing more curious about the man in question. You really didn’t know anything about Corroded Coffin, didn’t care much to do any research, you only knew what Chrissy told you.

You know that Grant, the rhythm guitarist, has rich parents, and that his dad bought the house for the band to live in while they’re recording their album. Chrissy always says Grant’s the nerdiest of the bunch, insanely smart and very friendly. You know that Jeff, the bassist, is apparently a sweetheart, a bit shy but would give you the shirt off of his back, and you know that Eddie…. well, you know that he’s supposedly “super hot”. Other than that, you’re drawing a blank. Chrissy hasn’t said much about him at all, now that you really consider it. Maybe he’s an introvert and doesn’t come around often, or maybe he’s a complete dick. He is a rockstar, after all. And there’s plenty of pretty women in his house right now, so… you can gather a few assumptions, to say the least.

You don’t get much more time to ponder the subject before you hear loud, raucous laughter coming in through the sliding doors to the backyard. Two figures stumble in, but in the dim light you can’t get a good look right away.

“I was made for lovin’ you baaaabyyyyyy!” a voice booms, and you don’t need more confirmation that it comes from another member of the band.

“How many times are you gonna sing that tonight?” the other voice counters, and you finally see two unfamiliar men walking towards the kitchen, dressed like other members of KISS.

The annoyed voice comes from the stand-in Gene Simmons of the evening, a frizzy black wig on his head and the signature makeup on his face, making him stand out. He sticks his tongue out obnoxiously at the other man, eliciting a laugh from him. Your eyes flit over, then, to the taller figure. Your attention is immediately grabbed — he’s intriguing right away and you aren’t quite sure why. Tall, slim, with a head of shaggy hair that diminishes his need for a wig for the costume. He’s dressed like Paul Stanley, a black star around his eye, surrounded by a face otherwise full of white makeup. He’s not wearing a shirt, at all, just a thick black studded collar around his neck and leather pants. Chunky heeled boots are on his feet, making him appear taller than just about everyone else in the room.

And if he’s dressed like the singer of KISS, then you can only assume this is Eddie. The singer of Corroded Coffin.

“Oh fuck off, Jeff. Have a little fun! It’s Hallo-fucking-ween, dude,” presumably-Eddie says, leaning into Jeff’s space.

“Sorry my idea of fun isn’t listening to your drunk ass sing KISS songs, Ed,” Jeff says, and the nickname gives you confirmation that this is, in fact, your guy.

Eddie just so happens to look up in that moment, his eyes falling upon yours unintentionally. He smiles at you, genuinely smiles at you, all while playfully rolling his eyes at Jeff’s comment. You giggle into your plastic cup, feeling like the two of you are the only people in the room for a moment. He gives you a teeny little wave, the slightest wiggle of his fingers, and you feel your heart rate increase as you return it. What is wrong with you? You were going to blame the alcohol, for the time being.

The moment is gone as soon as it came, Eddie’s attention getting redirected. You watch in fascination as they pour drinks for themselves, easily greeting the other partygoers who come up to them, eager to talk to the hosts. There’s a swarm of girls around Eddie in thirty seconds flat, and your heart deflates, much to your own dismay. Why should it bother you? He doesn’t even know you, and you don’t know him. Chrissy’s implication that you might hit it off with Eddie tonight is letting you get too in your own head, you decide, trying to shake it off.

You scoff, watching as a girl dressed like a devil leans on the counter into Eddie’s space, pressing her breasts together as much as she can. Her fake fangs are exposed as she laughs too loud at something he says, her bright red lipstick accentuating her mouth. You want to internally criticize her and her basic costume, before you’re reminded of your imitation of the most basic furry friend to ever grace Halloween.

As if on cue, someone comes up behind you and yanks on your tail, making you jump. Your drink sloshes over the rim of the cup at the sudden motion, splashing against the front of your outfit. You spin on your heel, met with the face of an unfamiliar man, which really isn’t saying much since almost every face here is unfamiliar.

“Can I help you?” you snark, flattening your lips in a straight line.

“Woah, calm down, pussy cat. Don’t have to bring the claws out,” the man says, smirking at you as if he has genuinely no clue why you’re bothered.

He reaches one arm out, flattening his palm against the wall behind you and leaning his weight on it, towering over you. He smells like cigarettes and booze, and you watch as his tongue pokes out to wet his lips.

“If you don’t mind,” you snap. “I really need to go wash the liquor out of my costume. Asshole,” you mutter the last part, ready to make your exit when the stranger grabs your arm.

“Going so soon? I thought we’d make friends,” he smiles at you, blue eyes piercing down at you as you grow wildly more uncomfortable.

“I’ll pass,” you emphasize, stomping the heel of your boot down onto his foot.

He yelps in pain, releasing your arm and allowing you to speed-walk out of the crowded kitchen. You can see various pairs of eyes on you as you scurry out, and you can hear your victim cursing you out through the bass coming through the stereo.

You high-tail it out the back door, heels clicking aggressively on pavement as you push through more people surrounding the pool. You finally stop to calm yourself down when you find a lull in the crowds, a spot where you can be relatively alone. You silently thank yourself that the stranger didn’t follow you, but what you didn’t realize is that someone else had.

You exhale, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a swig. Your now-wet top clings to your skin, aggravating you, but the last thing you want to do is wander back into the house in search of the bathroom.

“H-hey, um, are you alright?” a voice rings out directly behind you.

You jolt just slightly, not expecting company. Turning to face the other person, your eyes first land on those big, black platform boots. Eddie had followed you. Your gaze trails up his figure, leather pants and studded belt and bare torso, until you meet his eyes for the second time this evening.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says, “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I saw what happened in there and, uh, to be honest I don’t even know why we keep inviting Hargrove to these things—” Eddie rambles, as if Hargrove is a familiar name to you, as if he’s nervous to be around you — like he isn’t the star-studded host of this party.

“I’m okay,” you reply, cutting off his sentence, smirking a little. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I know these parties can get crazy, but… I always want to make sure everyone’s safe,” he says, his gaze softening as he says the last part. “I’m Eddie, by the way,” he introduces, holding out a hand for you to shake.

You immediately notice the big, silver rings adorning many of his fingers, your eyes lingering on them for maybe a second too long before you remember he’s waiting for you. You extend a hand, grasping his and shaking it.

“Y/N,” you reply. “I, uh, I’m here with Chrissy.”

“Oh, you’re Cunningham’s friend!?” he asks, lighting up at that. Excited as he says it as if you’re the celebrity here, not him.

You nod, smiling at him now.

“Damn, and she already ditched you to go screw Gareth, I’m assuming?” he jokes, and you laugh, feeling lighter by the second. Forgetting your less-than-pleasant encounter from moments ago.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” you say sarcastically, smiling wider when he snorts.

There’s a pause, you can feel him staring at you as you take another sip of alcohol. “Well, I’m a little offended she didn’t tell me that she had such a beautiful friend,” he says, and you feel your cheeks grow warm at his forwardness.

You duck your head, avoiding his eyes as your face scrunches in a shy smile. “Ah, there’s the rockstar charm,” you say, loving the sound of his laugh that comes in response.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he playfully asks, cocking his head as he leans forward to meet your gaze.

“How many other girls have you used that line on tonight?” you counter, playful but keeping a safe distance.

“Ouch, sweetheart. You really take me for that much of a player?” he stumbles back, clutching his chest as if he’s been wounded. Your eyes linger maybe too long on the tattoos littering his torso, the slight smattering of hair on his pale skin.

“Well, you are parading around your own party shirtless. Seems like a tool move to me,” you smirk, finishing off your drink with one last sip.

“Darling, you’re dressed like a cat. I don’t think you can come for my costume right now,” he flashes his perfect teeth at you, unable to contain his smile at your banter.

There’s a moment of silence, you staring out across the yard at the bright lights of the city down below, stretching vast and far. Then he speaks up again.

“I mean it. I think you’re really beautiful.”

“Thank you. You’re very pretty,” you say honestly, letting yourself give in to his flirtations.

“Is it the makeup? Am I gonna have to wear this every time I see you now?”

You giggle. “Every time? Are there going to be more times, mister rockstar?”

“I mean, I’d love to take the time to get to know you outside of a party setting, if that’s okay with you,” he smiles bashfully, and you can only assume he’s blushing under all of that makeup.

“Yeah. I think that’s okay with me,” you reply.

Conversation flows easily with Eddie, the less-than- pleasant encounter with the stranger and the spilled alcohol on your shirt long forgotten. He tells you about his life before the band started to make it big, how he always dreamed of being a rockstar. He shyly told you about how he used to parade around his home as a kid, playing his little guitar and singing songs he made up until his uncle was begging him to quiet down and go to bed.

You confess that you really didn’t know much about the band, other than things Chrissy had told you, and you apologize although he tells you it’s absolutely not necessary.

You both end up sitting in the grass side-by-side, talking so much you don’t even remember making the choice to sit, it just happened. There’s a lull in the conversation, his eyes searching yours before glancing down to your lips. He moves just slightly closer, his breath hitting your face with each exhale. You feel yours catch in your throat, anticipating his next move.

You don’t get the chance to see what that move is before the girl in the devil costume from the kitchen approaches. She instantly has her hands on Eddie, grabbing his arm with a red-gloved hand and pulling him to stand. “Eddieeee, come on! You have to come play spin the bottle with us!” she pleads, her voice too whiny to not be part of an act.

“I- uh,” he stumbles, looking at you with an emotion you can’t place.

The girl moves to stand in front of him, putting her hands on his chest now, starting to push him backwards. “Come on, it’s no fun if you don’t play,” she continues, her shrill voice grating in your ears.

You don’t like how close she’s getting, how unafraid she is to be touchy with him. Who even is she? Are they friends? Are they more than friends? She’s pushing him further away from you by the second, not once acknowledging your presence. You scoff, looking to the side, avoiding Eddie’s gaze.

Before Eddie can really do anything, he’s being shoved fully away from you. You don’t see the way he desperately looks to you for an out, simply bothered by the fact that this girl won’t leave him alone.

You wonder if you were right, if he called you beautiful just like he calls every other girl beautiful. You didn’t want to believe it, but, he’s about to go play a game with a bunch of drunk people where the whole point is to kiss each other, so. It’s not looking great for you.

You’d be lying, though, if you said your curiosity wasn’t peaked. You find yourself bored watching partygoers splash around in the pool, and you can’t shove down your internal need to find out what mister rockstar and the devil girl are up to inside. Your feet are carrying you before you can decide against it, leading you back inside, back through the kitchen where you pour yourself another drink, and then to the living room where you find a large group sat in a circle.

You hang back, just slightly, not wanting to make it too obvious that you’re watching the game, even though you aren’t the only one who came to spectate. To be completely honest, the first few spins you witness aren’t very exciting. You don’t know any of these people, so what should it matter to you if they kiss? You’re about to step away when the circle erupts with various ‘Ooooh’s and whistles.

“Come on, Eddie! You gotta do it!” a now very drunk Jeff screams.

To your absolute horror, Eddie had spun the bottle, only for it to land on the little bitch whose name you still don’t know in the devil costume. Eddie looks at the girl, who is very clearly eagerly awaiting a kiss from the singer of Corroded Coffin, but then he looks up at you.

You didn’t think he’d realized you were there, didn’t think he saw you lurking, but he looked at you too pointedly for it to have been an accident.

You swallow, suddenly feeling awkward amongst the silence of the room. Everyone’s watching Eddie, expecting him to get his kiss over with and move on. He stands finally, stepping forward. You almost want to look away, not interested in watching him lock lips with someone that isn’t you. But you can’t look away, not when he bypasses the anonymous girl and heads right for you.

“Um, I’m right here!” she says, her tone snarky and honestly annoying enough to make you want to slap her.

“Yeah, well I’m not kissing you, Tina,” Eddie says. “Spin the bottle. What are we, fourteen?” he asks, eyes still locked on you as he stands merely a step away now.

Your heart thumps in your chest, every bit of your nervous system attuned to him. Your mouth hangs slightly open, not knowing what to do or what to say.

He steps even closer, closing the distance between you. “I want to kiss you, that okay?” he murmurs, letting one hand rest so gently on your waist.

You want to laugh in Tina’s face. You want to point and laugh and rub it in, but that wouldn’t be the appropriate response here. You need to kiss Eddie, sooner rather than later.

You just nod, a smile playing on your lips. He leans his face closer to yours, hovering by your ear to whisper, “I’m sorry, about her. She’s… a friend of a friend who always ends up at our parties. Trust me, I have no interest there.”

The reassurance really isn’t necessary, you barely know Eddie after all, but it’s extremely appreciated. You feel your heart flutter a little, smug and satisfied all in one. And then his lips are on yours, not giving a damn who’s watching, not a care in the world for what anyone might say.

His lips are soft, warm against yours and the way he cradles the back of your head in his hands makes you weak at the knees. Your noses brush before you pull away, and the two of you giggle in unison like you just shared some exciting secret with each other.

Tina is dumbfounded where she sits on the carpet, watching you. You swear steam would be coming out of her ears if this was a cartoon. You give her a little wave and an all-too-fake smile before Eddie grabs your hand to lead you away.

Not a single word is spoken as he pulls you out of the living room, you’re silent until you reach the stairs to go up to the second floor.

“So you really don’t have history with Tina?” you playfully ask, pressing the issue just to be a pain, and he groans.

“Ugh, god, no. Like I said, she always ends up at these things and she’s all over me. But the funny part is, we went to high school together. She bullied the crap outta me,” he explains, and you can’t help but laugh. “Spread some nasty rumors on social media…” he shakes his head, smirking at the thought now.

“Of course,” you roll your eyes, “Now where are you taking me, rockstar?” you grab his waist once you’ve reached the top of the stairs, pulling him closer to you.

“To my room, because there’s no way I can handle any more interruptions tonight,” he says, his hands finding your hips, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment.

Another kiss is ghosted over your lips, open-mouthed and teasing, leaving you chasing after him when he pulls away and starts to walk down the hallway. He opens the dark wood door, gesturing for you to enter first.

The second he’s inside with you, his mouth is on yours, your back pressed to the wall as his hands grip your waist. He fumbles with the light switch behind you, providing a dim glow throughout the room. He wastes no time slipping his tongue past your lips, licking inside of your mouth and groaning when your tongue meets his. Your noses brush and you’re sure his makeup is getting smeared on your face, or vice-versa, and the thought makes you smile into the kiss. His lips work their way down to your jaw, nipping and mouthing at the skin before residing on your neck, sucking till it stings.

You hiss, arching your back into him, hands grabbing at his bare shoulders as your nails dig into the skin.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, hands grabbing your face as he brings you in for another heated kiss.

He starts to walk backwards, guiding you with him towards his bed. His boots are kicked off of his feet carelessly, and you toe off your heels in tandem. He reaches the mattress, falling back onto it and scooting backwards until he’s fully on the bed. You follow his lead, straddling his lap and letting your hands roam his bare chest. He watches you like you’re an ethereal being, eyes big and round and completely full of desire. His hands wrap around to grab your ass beneath the fabric of your skirt, filling his open palms with the soft flesh and squeezing.

Your hands waste no time in finding their way to the zipper of his pants, tugging it down after undoing the button.

“Need these off, Ed,” you say, sounding more whiny than you’d wanted. Your face gets hot at the smirk he gives you in return.

“Oh, so we’re desperate now, huh?” he says, the cocky rockstar demeanor coming out in full-swing. It makes you embarrassingly flustered, your cunt throbbing for him.

All you can do is nod, your hand trailing over the bulge that waits for you beneath fabric.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, starting to shimmy his pants down his thighs.

You remove yourself from his lap, letting him undress — your mouth practically watering when his cock springs free and smacks against his stomach. He’s fully naked for you now, given that he already wasn’t wearing a shirt. All that’s left is the studded choker around his neck, and it makes you drool.

“Like what you see, baby?” he asks, a smug little grin on his face as he watches the way you take in his entire body.

You already noticed the tattoos on his chest and arms, but now you’re noticing the ones on his thighs. He’s unreal, so unfairly gorgeous and captivating. He’s perfectly sculpted, a sharp V carved into his pelvis that simply leads your eyes down a path to his perfect cock. It’s big — long and not too thick, veiny with a pink, leaking tip. He must catch your intrigued expression, because he laughs, a devious little sound that tells you he can’t have any pure intentions.

“Why don’t you lay down so I can get you ready to take this cock?” he purrs, slender fingers stroking up and down one side of your body.

You shudder at his touch, moving to lay down on his bed. You pull your shirt off before you do, leaving your black, lacy bra on display for the man beside you. Your tits rest perfectly in it, and Eddie’s sure to get an eyeful. His hands gently hold your hips once you’re situated comfortably, partially laying down with your back propped against his many fluffy pillows. He leans down, letting his lips graze over your jaw, your cheek, your nose, before finally pressing to your mouth. He brings one hand up, pulling your cat-ear headband off of your head, deciding it can’t be very comfortable to have on for hours at a time. It makes you breathe a little laugh into the kiss, remembering how silly you must look with your painted on whiskers and nose.

He doesn’t give you much time to dwell on it, his mouth pulling off of yours and starting to travel down your neck. He kisses your shoulders, your collarbone, sucking on the most sensitive bits of skin and making you whine as you wriggle beneath him. He finds his way down to your breasts, hands sliding your bra straps down your shoulders as you arch your back for him, giving him room to unhook the clasp that sits at your spine. His lips immediately attach to one of your pert nipples, sucking and swirling his tongue around the small bud. One of his large hands cups your other breast, the cold silver of the rings on his fingers a sharp contrast to your searing skin.

He switches after a moment, sucking the opposite nipple into his warm, wet mouth. Something akin to a growl leaves his mouth when your fingers tangle in his hair and tug, and it spurs you on to keep going. His lips unlatch themselves from your breast, his mouth moving down down down, trailing kisses everywhere it goes. Your cunt throbs when his mouth approaches the waistband of your tight little skirt, his eager hands hooking beneath the fabric and beginning to yank it down, along with your underwear.

He peppers kisses lower and lower on your body, his mouth following close behind the clothes that he pulls off of you, covering every inch of skin as it’s exposed to him. He discards everything onto the floor, definitely tearing your stockings in the process of ripping them off of you. Your mind is a blur as he hastily attaches his lips to your clit, slipping one finger inside of you with complete ease. You weren’t expecting all of the stimulation so suddenly, your body writhing on the mattress as he sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth.

“More, Eddie, need more,” you pant, knowing you’re probably being greedy but knowing all the same that he won’t deny you what you want.

He hums against your cunt, immediately adding a second finger inside of you. He curls the digits, collecting your sticky wetness and groaning at the filthy noises that his movements make. Your hands tug harder on his hair as you throw your head back onto the pillows, cursing at how good he feels. Going in, you had no idea how tonight would play out, but you certainly didn’t expect to be hooking up with the frontman of Corroded Coffin. Your head spins at the thought of how many other people would probably die to be in your position right now, and it only makes you more turned on.

“Want one more, baby? Need to make sure you can take my fingers before you take my cock,” he purrs, smirking up at you.

“Yeah, please, I can take it,” you reassure him, and he slips a third finger in.

His fingers are thick, no doubt about it, and they stretch you so deliciously you feel like you could cry. The silk sheets beneath you feel cold against your skin, easing the heat that floods your entire body. You grip them with one hand, the other still in Eddie’s hair as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit in the perfect rhythm. He doesn’t dare change his pace, not with the way you’re moaning his name like a siren song, drawing him more and more into you.

You’re rapidly approaching your release, that much he knows, and he wants to send you free-falling over that edge. The way you suck his fingers right in practically makes him drool, he can’t get enough. Loud, shrill moans of his name leave your mouth as he curls his fingers into that perfect soft spot inside of you, and Eddie couldn’t care less if the whole damn house can hear you.

“Gonna cum, Eddie, ohmygod—” you’re cut off mid-sentence, the air stolen from your lungs as you come undone for him.

You squeeze around his fingers, soaking him as your body trembles. He pulls them out of you, slowly bringing them to his lips, making sure your eyes are on him. He sucks the digits clean of your juices, humming contently around them. You ache for him, your body desperate to have him even though it’s only been seconds since he’d been pleasuring you.

He moves to hover over you, reattaching his lips to yours in a heated kiss. It’s somehow gentle and rough at the same time, a weird but enticing juxtaposition. He tastes like you and it drives you crazy as your mouths clash together, all teeth and tongues.

“Fuck, baby, hold on. Let me get a condom,” Eddie says, nearly breathless as he pulls away.

“No— want you to fuck me raw,” you mewl, reaching out to stop him as he goes to stand.

“Baby…” he says, looking at you with uncertainty. He never goes without a condom, and certainly doesn’t want you to feel pressured to forgo one.

“Please, Eddie. Just pull out,” you plead with him, and you honestly can’t believe your nerve right now. Begging the famous rockstar you just met to fuck you raw, as if you have all of this power over him. What you don’t know is that Eddie already wants to give you anything you ask for.

“Okay, alright, sweetheart. Whatever you want,” he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead before positioning himself on top of you.

He lines his cock up with your entrance, and you can feel the way you throb for him. You know you’re even more soaked than before, and you hardly worry about whether or not he’ll fit.

“You ready?” he asks sincerely. Big brown eyes searching yours for your approval.

“Mhm,” you hum, letting your eyes flutter closed when you feel him start to press in.

Moans leave each of your mouths in unison as he sinks inside inch by inch. Your nails dig in to the skin on his back, dragging down when he bottoms out inside of you. He hisses, breathing heavy as he tries to gain some composure. You feel so good around him, too good, and it takes all of his focus to not bust immediately.

“Please move, need you to move,” you whine, looking up at him with your big, pleading eyes.

He nods, “Okay, baby. Gonna give it to you so good, yeah?”

He starts thrusting, slowly at first, dragging his cock almost fully out of you before rutting back in. The air is forced from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent moan. His movements stay slow like that for a little while, giving you the friction you need but still teasing. Moans leave your lips as he slowly pushes himself all the way in, letting you fully feel the way he stretches your walls to fit him.

He starts to speed up then, setting a steady pace as he fucks into you harder. He does it so well, filling you to the brim and making you clench around him. You can feel every vein and ridge on his cock, the pleasure making your body erupt in goosebumps.

“Shit, feel so fucking good, sweetheart,” Eddie pants, his hips smacking against yours roughly. “Wanna try something different?” he asks, waiting for your approval which comes without hesitation.

He pulls out of you, making you wince slightly. He stands at the side of the bed, coaxing you to move towards him. You oblige, scooting right to the edge of the mattress. Strong hands grip your legs, hoisting your feet up onto his shoulders, exposing you perfectly to him. You feel more vulnerable like this, and it makes you antsy as you wait for him to slide back in. When he does, you see stars. The angle is perfect, his cock hitting spots it couldn’t before. You watch as he throws his head back, the muscles in his neck prominent as he clenches his jaw, a guttural groan escaping him.

“You’re so damn beautiful, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, looking back down at you with sincere eyes. “How’d I get the most perfect girl on the planet?”

And then he bends down, your legs still hooked over his shoulders, your body practically folded in half now. You nearly scream out his name, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping against your skin filling the space. He leans down to kiss you, his lips and firm against yours, muffling your pretty noises. He pulls away, letting out a smug little chuckle at the way you instantly moan for him, noticing the tears pricking in the corner of your eyes.

“Gonna cry for me, baby? My cock feels so good you’re gonna cry about it?” he teases, watching your brow furrow in concentration as you get closer and closer to release.

“You’re very — fuck — very fucking modest,” you choke out, trying and failing to bite back your whimpers.

He laughs again, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “You know you fucking love it,” he murmurs, teeth biting at your earlobe before he pulls away. “I can tell you love it, cause you’re suckin’ me in like you were made for me.”

You let out a whine at his words, pinching your eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he continues to split you open. “Fuck, Eddie, don’t stop,” you plead, your body jolting with every harsh thrust he gives you.

He grunts as he fucks you faster, watching in awe as your tits bounce on your chest. He can feel how soaked you are for him, can see your cream pooling around the base of him when he sheathes himself fully inside.

“You gonna cum for me again, sweetheart?” he rasps, leaning down to kiss along your jawline.

All you can get out is a wobbly “Uh-huh,” nodding your head to the best of your ability. His fingers dig in to the meat of your thighs, a dull ache from his harsh grip barely noticeable in the back of your mind. One hand moves from its spot on your leg to reach down and play with your clit, the pad of his thumb rubbing quick circles over it.

Your back arches off the mattress, your legs shaking as you cry out his name. A few more deep thrusts and you’re plummeting over the edge for the second time tonight, your cunt tensing up around him over and over. The way your walls flutter around his cock brings him dangerously close to release, and he pulls his cock out quickly before he’s pumping it in his fist. All it takes is a few strokes before ropes of his cum are covering your body, splattering over your bare chest and stomach.

You let your legs drop from his shoulders, aching as you stretch them out. You feel like you’re made of rubber, limbs wobbly as your feet drop to the floor.

“Holy shit,” is all you can say, staring up at his ceiling as he chuckles at you from the side of the bed.

“You’re so damn perfect,” he says, shaking his head with a sweet little smile. He stretches, muscles flexing as he raises his arms to the ceiling, cocking an eyebrow at you when he catches you staring.

“Says you…” you reply, pulling the sheets up to hide your face, suddenly shy.

“Let me get you cleaned up, yeah?” he asks, holding out his arm for you, pulling you up when you take his hand.

When you step out of the shower with him, after your body has been cleaned and every inch of your skin has been kissed by his soft mouth, he gives you his big clothes to put on. You change and brush your hair, letting his hands hold your waist as he tries to invade your space to kiss you even more. You can’t help but admire his face, even more gorgeous now that his Halloween makeup is washed down the drain.

You both shuffle out of the bedroom carefully afterwards, trying to gauge how much the party has died down, only to be met with a laugh from the opposite end of the hallway.

Your head shoots up, seeing Gareth and Chrissy stepping out of his room, looking wildly similar to you and Eddie; costumes off, makeup off, a few extra hickeys on Gareth’s neck. Chrissy’s mouth hangs open, her eyes flitting from you to Eddie and back again.

“I told you!!” she shouts, giggling before Gareth takes her hand, pulling her down the stairs with him.

You try to bite back a smile, heat creeping up to your face.

“What exactly did she tell you, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks down at you, pulling your body to his. His cocky expression gives you the hint that he already has an idea.

“Shut up, rockstar.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic

[unsolved-duvall]

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)

older rockstar!eddie x fem!reader

part one | part two

summary eddie munson was a world famous rockstar. and, apparently, an asshole. but you weren't one to believe rumours, so when eddie asks to meet you, who are you to say no? (11.4k)

warnings age gap, reader is 22 and eddie is 40 (if this makes you uncomfortable please do not read! <3) smut, lots of smut. an overuse of nicknames (doll, angel, sweetheart, etc.), dom!eddie, choking, penetrative sex, oral sex f!receiving, fingering, slight overstimulation, reader cries once during sex but for good reasons! promise. minors shoo, i'll chase you away with a stick. don't make me do it. (if i've missed anything please let me know!)

This was a bad idea. You knew that. 

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty. 

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room. 

You were so fucked. 

.

.

.

You (and everyone who knew Eddie) knew that he did this all the time, it was practically an after-show ritual for him. Only on a very rare occasion did he go back to his hotel room by himself, or with the same person. It was always someone new, someone he had seen at the show, someone who caught his eye. And tonight that were you. 

Okay, if you were going to be completely honest here, this might have been what you wanted all along. But you never thought it would actually happen, you weren’t that delusional. But you had spent a little longer on your appearance tonight, and you had worn that outfit that showed off all your best assets and made you feel really fucking hot. 

And Eddie really needed to remember to thank you for that. Because once he saw you at the front of the crowd he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. In between songs he had walked over to the side of the stage, bending down so he could speak into the security guard's ear, and had told him the same thing he told him every night, accompanied with a point in your general direction. 

So when the show was coming to an end, security walked over to you and said “When the show ends hang around okay? Eddie wants to see you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You just nodded and blurted out something like ‘Oh yeah, okay, yeah, I can do that, thank you-” honestly you don’t even remember what you said, because your heart was racing as you realised what was happening. 

The security guard just rolled his eyes and strolled back to where he was originally standing. You figured he was probably tired of the reaction he got every time he had to tell Eddie’s latest crush to hang around after the show.

He did it every night, and honestly, he felt bad for every single one of them. It was the same each time: he would tell them, they would freak out, they would spend the night with Eddie, and the next day he would have to awkwardly escort them out of the hotel and tell them not to “take it personally doll, this is just what he does” Because Eddie wouldn’t even wake up early enough the next morning to say goodbye. 

He was a dick. But people fucking loved it and loved him. 

.

.

.

“You okay doll?” That recognisable voice pulled you out of your daydream and back to reality, although right now you weren’t entirely sure there was much of a difference between your daydreams and what was really happening. 

Standing in Eddie Munson’s dressing room wasn’t exactly something you thought you would ever be doing. 

After the show ended you stayed where you were, anxiously moving back and forth on your feet and looking around to see what exactly you were supposed to do next. Sure you had been told to ‘hang around’ but what did that mean? Were you supposed to stay where you were, walk over to a security guard and tell them Eddie had asked you to stick around? No, bad idea. They’d think you were a crazy stalker and would most likely escort you out of the venue. 

You couldn't see the man who had come over to speak to you. Your eyes continued to scan the room, looking for anyone who seemed to be signalling for you to come over; and just as you were about to admit defeat and leave, that same man caught your eye and nodded his head to the side. 

You hoped that was meant for you, or you were about to severely embarrass yourself. 

But, everyone else still there seemed to be talking amongst themselves, paying no attention to the man who now stood, looking rather impatient, next to the stage. Gathering all the courage you could muster (which truthfully was not a lot but fuck it) you crossed your arms over your chest and walked over to him. 

“Can you get over the barrier or do you need my help?” 

“Wha- I’m sorry?” you questioned him with perhaps a little too much confusion in your voice, and based on the look on his face, you already knew he didn’t like you very much. Or maybe he was like this with everyone. He worked for Eddie Munson after all and based on everything you knew about him, you guessed that job probably took a toll on a person. He was notorious for being difficult to work with. He’s lucky he was so fucking hot. 

“Are you serious… Jesus Christ okay- can you get over the barrier or do you need me to lift you over?” He started walking over to you, making a rather fair assumption that you were about to ask for some help. 

“Oh um yeah, could you…” He was already lifting you over before you could finish your request ‘Thank you, sorry… I just… I’m not normally this nervous” awkwardly laughing as you placed your feet on the ground and adjusted your clothes. 

“Yeah, you and everyone else who does this each night” He didn’t say it very loudly, probably not intending for you to actually hear him, but you did. It didn’t upset you, you knew what Eddie was like. But you were slightly embarrassed that his security was seemingly very aware of how your night was about to play out. 

He didn’t speak much. Eddie’s security. You had tried to make polite conversation by asking his name, but he was too busy leading you to Eddie’s dressing room. It was cold backstage, and busy. Lots of people moving equipment and talking about the next show, you were pretty sure they worked for the Band. You noticed a few other girls standing around, probably waiting for the other members of the band. You knew that the others didn’t have as much of a reputation as Eddie, but you would have to be pretty naive to assume they weren’t doing almost the same thing. They were just more subtle about it. 

“He’s in there” He stopped so abruptly that you were lucky you didn’t walk straight into the back of him. You looked up and saw that the door was closed, but his security was making no move to knock or open it for you. You thanked him and he just gave you a nod and walked away. Okay. Guess you’re knocking on the door yourself. Because that’s not terrifying. 

But you were already here, and it would be far more awkward to try and find your way back so you took a deep breath and knocked three times on the door. 

“Yeah come in” Eddie’s voice sounded from behind the door. 

Oh shit, he’s really in there, you thought to yourself. 

With one last shaky breath and shaking your hair out you grabbed the cold door handle and pushed the door open, peering around the door frame before you walked in. You could see Eddie, he was standing next to a high-up table and was clearly busy with something. But you couldn’t see anyone else, which was a small relief. 

Pushing the door completely open you stepped into the room. You took your hand off the door, and you were not expecting it to shut as quickly or loudly as it did. The loud bang of the door caused Eddie to turn around slightly too fast to be casual, and his eyes darted straight behind you to the door and then instantly back to your face, looking straight at you. But he quickly regained his composure and let his eyes rake up and down you. Yeah, so Eddie Munson did not do subtle. 

You were pretty sure Eddie just said something to you but you were too busy looking at him. No not looking, staring. Apparently, you didn’t do subtle either. 

You knew Eddie was pretty. But in person, this closeup? It was ridiculous. He was annoyingly hot. His curly hair fell around his face, bangs resting just above his eyebrows, framing his face perfectly. Your eyes scanned down to his lips, parted slightly, and you couldn’t help but think about what they would feel like on your neck. But his eyes were what grabbed your attention the most, they were almost hypnotising and you definitely stared at them for an uncomfortable amount of time. 

“You okay doll?” Eddie repeated his earlier question, not bothering to bite back the smirk that painted his face. 

“Yeah, I’m… I’m good!” You did not mean for that to come out as enthusiastically as it did. “I mean um, I’m good thanks, are you? Okay?” If you didn’t get your shit together and start acting less like a fangirl in the next two seconds you were just going to escort yourself out. 

Eddie laughed under his breath and leaned back against the wall behind him “Well aren’t you polite” You weren’t entirely sure what to say to that, so you just didn’t say anything. Instead choosing to remain standing by the door.  

Eddie lifted his hand that was holding an unlit cigarette and placed it between his lips. And quickly removing it again, for some reason. 

Oh god, now you were staring at his lips. And his hands. He had really pretty hands, with lots of rings on his fingers. Did he leave the rings on when he-

“Is staring a normal thing for you or am I just that attractive, sweetheart?” 

Fuck. Rockstars were so damn cocky. 

“That’s funny” You responded, you had no idea where that confidence suddenly came from, but something about the way he looked at you made you feel safe. “You know what?” You said as you walked over to the lone bar stool next to the table, sitting down and putting your hands under your thighs (you didn’t feel the need to question why there was only one chair in his dressing room). 

“You’re already flirting with me and you don’t even know how old I am, what if I’m like… I don't know, seventeen?” You held back a smile as you saw Eddie tense up and then quickly relax again. 

“Very clever, but not clever enough doll.” Jesus you wished he’d stop with the nicknames, it really wasn’t helping your whole ‘act casual’ plan. Eddie fiddled with the cigarette in between his fingers as he carried on speaking,  “this venue doesn’t let anyone in under the age of twenty-one. So, unless you were using a fake ID I figured it was safe to assume you’re not, in fact, seventeen.” 

You looked down at your feet that were dangling just above the floor, you weren’t using a fake ID. But you had in the past, he didn’t need to know that though. Although you couldn’t imagine he was one to judge someone for doing something illegal. 

“Okay fine, so I’m not seventeen. You still don’t know how old I am though. You don’t even know my name, Eddie” You shot back, trying to sound serious, but the humour underneath your statement broke through. You also weren’t sure if you were on a first-name basis with him, but what else were you supposed to call him?

Eddie never broke eye contact with you the whole time you were speaking, but you couldn’t quite read what he was thinking. 

“You wanna tell me your name then, sweetheart? Or am I supposed to guess that and your age? You wanna make me work for it huh?” Eddie put the cigarette down as he pushed himself off the wall and rested his forearms on the table, getting just that little bit closer to you. 

“Normally yeah, I’d make a guy work for my name, but I suppose you’re special, right?” You said quietly, your confidence quickly slipping away the longer he looked at you. 

“You’re gonna give me an ego, doll. No one’s ever called me special before, especially someone as pretty as you.” Eddie was a flirt, you knew that. He probably told every girl he has never seen someone as ‘pretty as they were’. But, still, it felt nice. You certainly didn’t believe that no one had ever called him special before. He was Eddie fucking Munson, for crying out loud. 

“I’m Y/N.” You told him, purposefully not mentioning your age. You were over twenty-one but Eddie was… older. 

He was almost double your age, actually. 

“Pretty name. Matches the face.” Eddie flirted. He was insatiable already. “And you’re… how old exactly.” Eddie clearly noticed the look of worry that flashed because he quickly added “I know, I know. You should never ask a lady her age, and all that shit. But uh, help me out here” 

“Okay um, I’m twenty-two.” Eddie didn’t react at all like he was waiting for you to say something else, but when you didn’t he just said “So that would make me old enough to be your dad, right?” he laughed. 

“Whoa, well I wouldn’t say that. You’re forty. My dad’s in his fifties so…” Why did you just bring up your dad, to the man you were pretty sure you were about to sleep with? Smooth. 

Eddie walked around so he was standing in front of you, resting a hand on your knee and using the other to push your hair off your face. “So you’re not uncomfortable, at all? Look, baby, I’m older, you’re still young, I wouldn’t want this to be some power-dynamic situation where you feel pressured, or fuckin’ whatever” 

Shit. He wasn’t a complete asshole. At least not right now, he seemed genuinely concerned about you feeling safe. But with his hand on your knee, you weren’t sure how the fuck he expected you to focus. 

“‘M not uncomfortable. I wouldn’t have come back here if I was” Eddie tilted his head slightly, looking for more confirmation. “I promise. ‘M not a child, Eddie” 

“No, you’re definitely not… a child” You could tell he was trying really hard to keep his eyes on yours and not look other places right now. His hand that moved your hair came to rest on your cheek. 

This close to him you could see the stubble on his face, and the freckles that painted his nose and under his eyes. His eyes were even more dangerous this close-up as well. You were pretty sure he would do anything he asked you to right now, and you’d only been with him five minutes. 

Was he about to kiss you? 

You were pretty sure he was about to kiss you. 

You hadn’t even realised it but you had let your legs fall apart so he was now standing as close as he possibly could be, your legs dangling around his. He just kept looking at you, rubbing his thumb on your cheek, whilst his eyes moved back and forth from yours to your lips. 

And just as you were about to lean forwards, your lips parting, 

He walked away. 

What the fuck? 

“You smoke?” 

“Wha- I’m sorry?” 

Eddie had sauntered over to another table in the corner, it was covered in empty food containers, drinks, cigarettes and god knows what else. He grabbed the leather jacket that was thrown haphazardly across the edge of the table and threw it on, he still didn’t say anything as he walked back over to where you were sitting and picked up the cigarette he put down earlier, placing it behind his ear. You hated it, but there was something about him that made it impossible to not watch him. And he knew it, too. 

“I said do you smoke?” 

“No, s’bad for you” 

“Fuck you’re not about to start lecturing me are you?” The immediate exhaustion in his voice was evident, and you wondered how many times a day he was told to stop smoking. “‘Cause I like you so far, don’t turn into an asshole now” 

“No f’course not I just-  you asked if I smoked, that’s all” 

“Okay, good. Good that you aren’t about to fuckin’ lecture me and force me to tell you to fuck off,” Charming, as always. “and good that you don’t smoke. You’re too pretty for that shit.” 

Only Eddie Munson could be an asshole and compliment you in the same sentence. 

Eddie turned on his heel and headed for the door, as he opened it he turned around, clearly expecting to see you standing right behind him, but you hadn’t even moved from where you were sitting. “You comin'? Or are you just gonna sit there looking lost all night?” 

You stood up without saying anything and expected him to just start walking again, instead he just shut the door again, leaning against it and drawled out “you know why I asked for you to hang around right?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” You weren’t entirely sure what his deal was. He was both exactly what people said he was but also not like that. He seemed… you weren’t sure. It wasn’t that he was unsure of himself, it definitely wasn’t that. But if you didn’t know he did this every damn night, you’d say he was trying to hold back his nerves. 

Or maybe he just did this so much that it was starting to bore him. 

“Okay. so?” He wasn’t even looking at you as he said it, instead choosing to stare at the ceiling. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking me here, Eddie.” You whispered. 

Eddie lowered his gaze to your eyes and stood up straight, no longer leaning against the door. “Can I fuck you, sweetheart? Do you want that?” 

Oh fuck. 

You nodded, certain that if you tried to articulate yourself you would find that words escaped you. 

“Use your words for me, come on doll, need to hear you say it.” Eddie moved towards you a bit and picked up the pendant on the end of your necklace, flipping it over in his fingers as he waited for your answer, never once breaking eye contact.

“Yeah I- I want that. Want you to fuck me.” You blurted out. 

A smile broke out on Eddie’s face as he dropped your necklace and turned around, opening the door and walking out “Come on then.” 

You didn’t figure you were in a position to ask any questions, so you just followed him. Wherever he was going, he was going to fuck you once you got there, so you were happy either way. 

What you didn’t know was that you had utterly confused Eddie. 

You see, normally when Eddie invited someone backstage, it took them about two minutes before they were trying to jump his bones, kissing his neck and telling him how hot he was. It was easy like that, but you? You didn’t even try and touch him, which was… respectful. He wasn’t used to that. Not that he didn’t want you to touch him, he did. He had just never had to make the first move before, or straight up ask someone if they wanted him to fuck them. 

But you did want him. He could tell. The way you couldn’t stop looking at him, even when he wasn’t even doing anything. The way your thighs rubbed together when he called you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’. Or the way your breath hitched when he asked you if you wanted him to fuck you. 

You were also really fucking pretty. He felt his heart race when you first walked into his dressing room. Sure, he had seen you in the audience and thought you were cute, but it was different when you were standing before him. But of course, he pushed all those thoughts away, You were a hookup, that’s all. That’s all he wanted. Maybe out of spite to himself, but he would never let anyone be more than that. And you weren’t going to be any different. 

.

.

.

The drive to the hotel was pretty quick. Fifteen minutes at most. You had followed Eddie to a car that was waiting just outside one of the back entrances and he had even gone as far as to open the door for you. What a gentleman, maybe? You still could not figure him out. 

Once Eddie was in the car, the driver set off. Neither of you said a word to the other. Instead, you sat in oddly comfortable silence. Letting the city lights and moonlight leak into the car as you were driven through the bustling metropolis. 

Occasionally you’d look over at Eddie, and each time you did would find he was already looking at you. The first couple of times you looked away again, staring back out of the window at the starry night sky, looking at the constellations and trying to figure out what the fuck was happening. You were sitting in the back of a car with Eddie Munson. And he was taking you back to his hotel. 

The third time you looked over at Eddie he was moving over to sit right next to you. You shifted slightly so you could look at him without having to twist your neck as far. “Hey” you murmured. 

“You know normally by now, you would be sitting on my lap, whilst I feel you up under your clothes.” 

“Oh, how romantic” You chirped back. 

“What can I say, I’m a modern-day Romeo.” 

“Can I say something?” You asked him, breaking eye contact, choosing to look down at your legs instead. 

“Fucking hell- I- yeah sure.” His voice was laced with annoyance “You know they normally don’t talk this much either.” Eddie shot back at you. 

“Okay well I was gonna say, you’re not as much of an asshole as people make you out to be. But then you kinda were an asshole, so, never mind.” 

You looked back up at Eddie to see a grin on his face. “What?” You barked out. 

Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender and only held back a laugh at your annoyance. “You love it, sweetheart. Or else you wouldn’t have agreed to meet me, let alone get in the car with me. And come back to my damn hotel room.” His voice dipped much lower than you had heard it all night, it was all smug and had an air of ‘I know I’m hot as fuck and so do you’ about it. 

You swallowed and tried to look back out the window, anything to avoid looking right at Eddie. But he lifted his hand and turned your head back to him, once you were looking at him he lowered his hand from your cheek and let it rest on your jaw. 

“Now, Can I please kiss you?” 

Fucking finally. 

You barely had time to nod before his soft lips landed on your own. Barely had time to think before the kiss turned heated, Eddie leaning his head one way and you leaning yours the other so you could be as close as possible. 

Noses squished against each other and lips moulding together in perfect rhythm. It was like Eddie had lit a fire in you because you couldn’t get close enough to him. You lifted yourself up and swung your leg over Eddie’s lap, he quickly realised what you were doing and moved his hands to grab your hips, helping you settle on top of him, the whole time not once breaking the kiss. 

Your hands went straight to Eddie’s hair and he moved from your hips to your back, letting them feel every part of you, until they eventually went to your hair, too. He took your bottom lip between his teeth and pulled back slightly, causing you to let out the smallest whimper.

 He went straight back to making out with you, but you could feel his smirk against your mouth. As your lips moved together you started rocking your hips back and forth, slowly and experimentally. 

But it was enough to cause Eddie to let out a groan, which only encouraged you even more, doubling down on your efforts to kiss him, pressing your lips deeper and harder against his, and he only returned the same energy, pushing himself forward and pulling you closer to him, letting his tongue run over your bottom lip, begging for entry. 

You parted your lips instantly and he wasted no time letting his tongue meet yours. You tried to fight for some dominance in this situation but he quickly took control. His tongue in your mouth and one hand on the back of your neck, the other holding your hip to control your movements. 

It was hot. And you were really fucking needy. You had almost forgotten that some poor driver was sitting directly in front of you, behind the separator. Probably trying to get to the hotel as fast as possible. You didn’t blame him. 

You and Eddie were making out like if you didn’t you would die, and honestly, that was exactly what you felt like. Everywhere he touched you left you wanting more and more and more. His kiss ebbed and flowed through you, making you roll your hips against him even more. 

His lips on yours left you convinced that you had died and gone to heaven. His tongue exploring your mouth made you feel like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. He knew what he was doing. Of course, he did. 

Just as your hips grinding against him was getting erratic, the car stopped. And Eddie pulled away from you instantly. Both of you breathing heavily, you more than him, somehow. Did he have more oxygen in his body or something, what the fuck? You had both had your tongues down each other's throat, how did he seem slightly out of breath and you felt like you were fighting for air? Eddie patted his hands against your hips, signalling for you to get up and out of the car. 

The door opened and you stepped out as smoothly as you could, which wasn’t easy when you were just being felt up by a rockstar in the back of the car, but you gave it your best shot. The late spring air caressed your face and you felt yourself relax for the first time all night; moving away from the car as Eddie said something to the driver you stepped onto the lawn in front of the hotel and felt the dew-dropped grass crunch under your shoes. 

The hotel was big, fancy, you didn’t feel like you belonged there. You couldn’t even count how many stories high it was, the lit-up windows seemingly going for miles, hypnotising you as you stared up in awe. 

Truthfully you were more shocked that the band’s management still let them stay in places as lavish as this, they were renowned for being… destructive. You had heard countless stories of Eddie and his bandmates going back to a hotel drunk or high (most of the time it was both) and destroying their rooms, disturbing the other guests and probably other things they had most likely paid the media not to leak. 

Some said that Eddie and others had mellowed out recently, with Eddie turning forty. If you asked Eddie he would take offence to that, and say something precocious like he was “just getting started”. Whatever that meant. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a hand coming to rest on your lower back, and you knew it was Eddie without having to turn around. 

“Come on, I stay out here for too long we’ll be fuckin’ swarmed,” He told you. 

“You get a lot of people waiting for you at hotels?” You already knew the answer, you had seen the insanity for yourself on TV. Hundreds of fans crowded the hotel hoping for a glance at the band. 

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. They just want me to sign something so they can sell it. I don’t do that shit.” Eddie explained as his security hurried you both into the hotel. 

His security led you through the lobby and joined you in the elevator. Which you were pretty sure was the most awkward two minutes of your life. You felt like a little kid being dragged home by her parents and they were too annoyed with you to even hold a conversation. Eddie didn’t seem to mind it though, leaning to the side and resting against the elevator wall, closing his eyes in exasperation when his security murmured something along the lines of “I’ll knock on your door at 9 tomorrow.” Eddie didn’t bother to respond or even show that he had heard him. 

Soon the elevator stopped and his security stepped off. He turned around and gave you both a curt nod before letting out a sigh and walking off. 

The elevator doors had barely shut, and it hadn’t even started moving again before Eddie was on you. Pushing you back against the wall of the elevator, his hands on your waist, a small sigh left your lips at the speed and energy of it. He dipped his head to your neck and let his lips explore everywhere. Your hands flew up to his hair to keep him pressed against you and when he found your sweet spot you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out, and you felt Eddie’s mouth turn up into a smirk against your neck. 

He was mouthing at your neck like he needed it to breathe, alternating between pressing kisses and sucking at your skin, letting his teeth graze your skin. Soothing the love-bitten skin by running his tongue over it once he was satisfied with his work. You already knew you would have to cover those with makeup for the next few days, or maybe you wouldn’t, letting everyone see Eddie’s mark on you, you hadn’t decided yet. 

You were so lost in the feeling of Eddie that you hadn’t heard the sighs and whimpers you were letting out, but Eddie couldn’t miss them if he tried, he thought you sounded angelic. 

“Fuck doll, barely even touched you and you’re making such pretty noises f’me” Eddie raised his head to look at you, his lips red and swollen. “Gonna let me see what other noises I can get you to make?” You let out a hum of agreement. 

Eddie grabbed your face with one ring-clad hand, forcing you to look at him, and not at his lips (in your defence, you hadn’t even realised you were staring at his lips). “I asked you a question sweetheart.” 

He leaned forward so his lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, “I said, are you gonna let me pull even more noises out of you? Answer me, come on pretty girl.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Please Eddie I-” The elevator doors opened just as Eddie was laughing at the neediness in your voice. 

Eddie’s eyes dipped down to your neck again and then back to yours, before grabbing your hand and dragging you behind him, walking at a considerable pace. He was just as desperate as you were, he was just much better at hiding it. 

Eddie opened the door to his room and you had about five seconds to see that you were standing in a hallway, leading off to the multiple rooms. You let your eyes wander around the enormous suite before Eddie was turning around and kissed you, lips smashing desperately against each other. It was the type of kiss that took all the air out of your lungs, your hands grabbing blindly at his jacket, clinging to him like he was your lifeline. 

You felt Eddie starting to lead you back and quickly your waist hit the small glass table that was next to the door. You reluctantly broke away from the kiss, turning your head to look down at the table that Eddie seemed to want you to sit on. 

“It’s glass,” You said simply. 

“Baby that table probably cost more than your rent. S’not gonna break.” Eddie let his hands wander underneath your top, drawing small shapes on your back whilst he waited for you to be where he wanted you. 

“Telling me it costs more than my rent is not calming my nerves here!” You exclaimed, 

“Would you get on the fucking table so I can eat you out” 

Well, when you put it like that. 

You placed your hands on either side of you on the table and Eddie lifted your waist to help you up. “Thank you” Eddie drew out the syllables as he spoke, and his voice was laced with sarcasm, you hit his shoulder. His lips turned up in a smile and he reconnected his lips to yours. The kiss was slower this time, but still desperate. Eddie stood between your legs and you were quick to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you, letting him roll his hips against your centre and you moaned against his lips. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring you as you let him take control. 

Just as you were about to beg for more Eddie pulled away from your lips and dropped to his knees, placing your legs over his shoulders, dusting light kisses along your thighs. And it was only at that moment that your brain caught up with your body. Eddie Munson was between your thighs, and it felt so right. Your heart was racing and you felt goosebumps on your arms, but you felt so comfortable with him. 

Oh shit. Do not fall for him. 

This was a bad idea. You knew that. 

You should go home.

But he was right there. And he was so pretty. 

He had asked for you. He had picked you out of the crowd. And now you were in his hotel room. 

You were so fucked. 

“Hey, where’d you go?” Eddie ran his hand along your outer thigh, his other coming up to push his hair back off his face. 

“I- shit, sorry, I’m okay. Promise” You tried to assure him. You really were okay, this was just a lot. 

“We can stop. Or slow down. Jus’ tell me what you need me to do.” 

You needed him to go back to being an asshole and make it easier to leave in the morning. 

“Need you. Need you to touch me.” You breathed. Eddie bit back a smirk and gently pushed your skirt up around your hips, you felt your breathing speed up already, your legs spreading wider as his soft lips kissed lovebites onto your inside thigh, slowly moving closer to where you so desperately wanted him. He pulled back to admire the purple bruises he had sucked onto your skin, leaning forward again to press light kisses over them. “Eddie, please” your voice came out breathy and quiet, you barely even recognised it as your own. 

“What’s wrong sweetheart? You wanted me to touch you, yeah? S’what I’m doin” Eddie was teasing you and you knew it, your fingers gripping the side of the table so firmly that your knuckles were going white. 

“Need more.” Was all you could tell him, all of your focus being pulled to where his hands were running up and down your thighs again. 

“Tell me doll, you gotta tell me where you need me or I can’t help you baby” you could tell how much he was enjoying your reactions just from the tone of his voice, he was trying to be serious and controlling but you could hear the smile in his voice. 

You hummed out in protest and tried to move your hips closer to him, but as soon as he saw you trying to move his grip on your thighs got tighter, stopping you from moving. 

“You gotta use your words for me angel or I’m gonna get bored here” Eddie slipped into the dominant persona so naturally that you couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through your body at the reminder that he did this with lots of people, you weren’t the first and definitely weren’t going to be the last. And you hated how that thought made you feel. 

Not wanting Eddie to notice the way your face dropped for a split second you quickly pushed the thought away and felt the desperation build up again. 

“Need your mouth, please- just please Eddie” 

“Good girl” You felt heat rush to your cheeks at his words, Eddie noticed too, but he didn’t say anything. Not yet, anyway. 

“Can you lift your hips for me darlin? Need to get these pretty panties off you, yeah?” You instantly lifted yourself up as much as you could, as Eddie slipped his hands under and pulled your underwear down your legs, throwing them somewhere behind him once they were off. 

You could thank all the gods that Eddie didn’t tease you anymore. He pulled you to the edge of the table and your ankles crossed behind his back in an effort to keep him close to you, certain that if he didn’t touch you right there and then you were going to combust. 

Eddie ran a finger along your cunt, finally getting to feel how desperate you really were. “Shit sweetheart, you’re fucking soaked, huh?” You whimpered at his words, not trusting yourself enough with words. “Yeah? s’okay I’ve got you, gonna make you feel so good I promise” Eddie dipped his finger against your entrance, gathering your wetness before going straight for your clit, rubbing slow circles right over that sweet spot. Your hips bucked at the small movement and Eddie looked up at you, his brown eyes peeking out from behind his overgrown bangs. 

The amount of need he saw in your eyes was almost enough to make him pick you up and carry you to his bed there and then, but he was a firm believer in the more fucked out someone was before he had even fucked them, the better the sex. So, he fought every instinct in his body and dropped his eyes back to your cunt, finally attaching his mouth to you, making you mewl and whimper above him, immediately moving one of your hands to hold his head against your core, your fingers tangling into his curls. 

Eddie knew what he was doing, his tongue running along your slit and moving up to suck on your clit, shaking his head whenever he did, causing you to throw your head back, eyes shut so tightly it almost hurt. Every time he felt your thighs tighten around him, or heard your breathing speed up, he pulled off your clit and went back to running his tongue through your cunt, stopping you from getting to where you really needed to be, but still feeling fucking ridiculous. 

“Eddie- need your fingers, please” You begged him, you just needed to feel more of him. 

He pulled back and smiled up at you “Look at you baby, using your words to tell me what you need.” As he said it he gently ran one finger along your cunt, dipping it inside you slightly in an attempt to work you open, but you were so needy he really didn’t need to. 

His words made you clench around nothing and all you could do was mewl out longing pleases and eddies. Reciting his name like a mantra. 

He whispered out little shh shh shh’s as he made delicate work of slipping his middle finger inside you. Of course, you had touched yourself before, but Eddie touching you surpassed anything you had ever made yourself feel. Just one of his fingers was enough to stretch you out, but you still needed more. 

“More please- please” You couldn’t take your eyes off of Eddie, at how he couldn’t take his eyes off your cunt, where his finger was dipping in and out of you “I got you angel”. 

Eddie slipped another finger inside you, it felt uncomfortable for a second and your eyebrows scrunched together as you tried to adjust to his fingers inside you. But that dull ache was soon relieved when Eddie curled his two fingers up inside you, hitting that spot that you had never been able to reach, or anyone else you had slept with had been able to reach. He kept a steady rhythm, not pulling his fingers in and out anymore, instead, he just kept curling his fingers perfectly each time. It had you seeing stars and your breath caught in your throat as you tried to calm yourself down. 

“Yeah? That feel good, baby?” Eddie teased, lapping his tongue against your clit again, forcing you to let out the prettiest string of moans he had ever heard. “Fuck doll, anyone ever made you feel like this before, huh?” You were so fucked out already you just shook your head, trying to push his head back down, a silent plea for him to put his mouth back on you. 

“No? That’s a fucking crime sweetheart. None of the boys your age are doing it for you huh?” Little whimpers and moans let him know the answer to his question without you having to say anything. The man was a menace, holding a conversation with you whilst he had two fingers curled inside you. 

Oh, and you finally had an answer to your earlier question. He did keep his rings on whilst he fingered someone. Which you were ever so grateful for. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen or felt. The metal of his rings rubbing against you had your eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Just needed someone who knew what they were doing to touch you, right?” Eddie was definitely a talker. Not that you were complaining, especially since you could barely string two words together right now. 

He continued lapping at your clit whilst his fingers worked inside you, your moans getting louder by the minute. If you weren’t so busy with Eddie’s head between your legs you might be worried about getting a noise complaint from the other poor guests who could probably hear you. 

You felt that coil in your stomach start to tighten and you let your hand that was resting on Eddie’s head pull oh his hair, eliciting a groan from him, his eyes searching for yours and when he found them screwed closed he used his free hand to grab one of yours and hold it, letting you know he knew you were close. 

“Can you let go for me angel, hm? Come on, I got you” 

That was all it took for the coil to snap, your whole body felt like it was burning, in the best way. Your grip on Eddie’s hand got tighter as he worked you through it, his fingers slowing down but not stopping, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit. All you could do was moan and whimper above him, letting out a stream of oh gods and don’t stop. Eddie was saying something to you, you could hear his muffled voice but your ears were ringing and everything was too much but you never wanted it to stop. 

Until suddenly it all became too much, your legs instinctively trying to close, hand coming down to move Eddie’s away from you. He picked up on your change in demeanour instantly and slowly took his fingers out of you, pressing small kisses to your knee as he let you calm down. 

“Fuck, Eddie-” Was all you could say when you’re senses came back to you. 

You realised you were still holding Eddie’s hand, but you didn’t make any moves to let go. Neither did he. 

“Yeah? Not bad for an old man, huh?” Eddie chirped. 

“Fuck off, you’re forty. That’s not that old” You retaliated, watching as Eddie stood up from where he had knelt before you. 

“Oh well thank you, sweetheart.” His voice dripped with sarcasm as he pushed your hair away from your face. A gesture that felt oddly romantic given the way you had found yourselves in this situation. 

Eddie moved to slot his lips over yours, taking your bottom lip between his and sucking. You melted into the kiss and ran your tongue over his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He let you take control for a few seconds before he slipped his tongue into your mouth and you tasted yourself on him. The whimper that you let out was downright pornographic but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. 

“Fuck sweetheart, wrap your legs around me” Eddie’s voice was raspy and it cut through you like a knife, you didn’t even ask him why before you had your legs tightly holding onto his waist. He wasted no time picking you up from the table and carrying you to the bedroom, taking extra care to lie you gently down on the bed in the middle of the room, crawling to hover above you and attach his lips to your neck, sucking right onto your pulse point, causing a desperate moan to leave you. 

Your legs tightened around him and he ground his hips down into you, his desperation was evident even though he was trying hopelessly to seem calm and collected. But with you lying underneath him that seemed to be impossible. With his head buried in your neck as he desperately worked to leave you covered in as many marks as possible, you tried to shift his weight off you so you could flip yourselves over. But he just tightened his grip on your waist, and hand that he still hadn’t let go off. Keeping you firmly pinned to the mattress. 

“Eddie, I- oh fuck” he ground his hips down against you as you began speaking, stealing the breath from your lungs. “Eddie, do you not want me to…” Your confidence suddenly slipped again, you wanted to offer to suck his dick. But you had only given head a couple of times, each time being to a guy your age who was probably just grateful to have a girl on her knees in front of him. Eddie was older, and a world-famous rockstar. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. But you really wanted to taste him. 

“What is it doll?” Eddie pushed as he dusted light kisses across your jaw, rubbing circles over the slip of skin that was exposed where your t-shirt had ridden up. 

“Can I- can I suck your dick?” Your voice was small and Eddie couldn’t tell if you were just nervous or if you didn’t actually want to. 

“You don’t have to sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” Either way, he wasn’t going to let you do something unless he was absolutely positive that you really wanted to. He dipped back down and pulled you into a long, deep kiss. Your hands flew to the back of his neck as you kissed him back, all tongue and teeth, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

“I want to though” You insisted, barely moving your lips off of Eddie’s. Eddie’s long hair fell around you both, cutting you off from being able to see anything other than his face as he leaned over you. 

Eddie still wasn’t sure, he noticed the way your hands that you had on the back of his neck had moved so you could mess with your fingers. He didn’t know you well enough to know if that was a nervous habit of yours, but it was one of his, so he took a safe guess that you were probably more nervous than you were letting on. 

“S’okay doll. Honestly, if I get your mouth on me this’ll be over a lot quicker than either of us want.” He moved to rest all his waist on one hand, the other moving to push your t-shirt up, he looked up at you to make sure that was okay and when you nodded with way too much enthusiasm, he let out a quiet laugh and lifted your t-shit off you, lowering himself to place kisses down your chest and stomach. 

Feeling his lips on your skin sent a bolt of electricity shooting through your body and suddenly all you needed was to feel him inside you. You whimpered and grabbed the back of the top he was still wearing, you hadn’t even noticed he had already taken off his leather jacket. Eddie soon realised what you wanted, sitting back on his haunches to pull his top over his head. 

Your eyes dropped down to stare at Eddie, his pale body covered in tattoos, across his chest and arms. Your hand impulsively reaching out to trace over them. Eddie smiled and picked up your other arm, dotting little kisses up and down it. You lowered your hand that had been tracing over his tattoos and began to undo his belt, frustration quickly building as you couldn’t get it undone. 

Eddie noticed how your brows knitted together and felt a pang of adoration in his chest at how sweet you looked lying below him. He took both of your hands in his as he guided your hands to help you undo his belt, breathing out a small “good girl” as you let his fingers guide yours. 

Once you had both undone it Eddie reluctantly pulled away from you and stood up to push his jeans and underwear off, grabbing a condom from the bedside table. You pushed your skirt off and when you looked back up at Eddie your gaze dropped down and your breath hitched in your throat. He was… big. You felt your whole body tense up as you realised you had never been with someone that big before. Two of his fingers alone were enough to feel a lingering pressure in your stomach. 

Eddie leaned back down over you and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips, his hand caressing the apple of your cheek as you widened your legs more and he settled between them comfortably. 

“You okay, sweetheart?” Eddie whispered as he moved to adjust your legs around him and grab a pillow from the bed. “Can you lift your hips-” You moved slightly so Eddie could place the pillow below you. “Thank you, baby” He praised you as you followed his instructions instantly. 

“D’you still want this?” Eddie asked suddenly, his voice dropping back to his normal tone, rather than the more controlling, deeper one he had been speaking with before. You nodded your head quickly and muttered out a little “please” as he carefully watched your face. 

Your enthusiasm seemed to please him enough to carry on, and he kissed you once more before moving his hand down to guide himself into you. He ran his cock through your folds and groaned at the wetness he found there “Shit doll, you need it bad huh?” You moaned out as the head of his cock hit your bundle of nerves, bucking your hips up and digging your fingers into the bed. He shushed you and pushed your hips back down “I really gotta teach you some patience angel.” He told you as he ground his hips forward, grinding over your dripping cunt but not pushing in. 

“Just so desperate for someone to finally fuck you how you need aren’t you?” Your head lolled to the side as he kept grinding into you, hitting your clit each time. “Uh uh, eyes on me sweetheart.” 

You used all the energy you could muster to lift your head back to a position where you could look right at Eddie. “There she is, I’m not even inside you yet and you look fucked out, this enough for you?” Eddie cooed. “Don’t even need my cock inside you, do you?” The desperate cry that came from the back of your throat at his words almost made Eddie feel bad, but you sounded so pretty. “No no, please- fuck please.” Your legs tightened around his waist in protest to what he just said, Eddie bit back a smirk and let out a “yeah?”  in fake pity. 

“Need you inside me fuck- just please Eddie I–” Your cries were getting more desperate by the second and Eddie shushed you as he lined himself up at your entrance, pressing a light kiss to your neck to soothe you. “Okay angel, I hear you. Gonna make you feel so good, I promise.” 

Eddie began to push inside of you, but only got so far before you let out a sound that sounded far too close to discomfort for him. He stopped moving and looked up to see your eyes closed tightly. “Hey, hey, look at me, come on.” You had never heard his voice that soft before, but you did what he asked, looking at him. 

“You okay?” He asked, concern laced in his voice. 

“M’okay, you’re just… bigger than I’m used to” A cocky grin spread across Eddie’s voice at your words and you gently pushed on his shoulder. His ego didn’t need to be any bigger than it already was. 

“You want me to stop? I can eat you out again if you want?” He sounded so sincere that when you went to open your mouth to respond you couldn’t think of anything, so caught off guard by ‘asshole rockstar eddie’ being the exact opposite of what everyone knew him as. 

“Sweetheart? You with me?” He held your face in his hand and rubbed his thumb along your jaw. 

“Yeah um– no just keep going, please, I just needed a second to get used to it” You told him, a small laugh from you making him relax again. He attached his lips to yours and kissed you dizzy. A deep kiss that had you whimpering softly against his lips and distracted you from the pressure of Eddie pushing into you again. 

“Fuck you’re so tight doll” Eddie said against your lips. The pressure built up again and you held onto his shoulder, digging your nails into the skin there. 

“You’ve gotta relax for me angel, okay? Deep breaths, yeah?” Eddie whispered against your jaw, desperately trying to hold himself back from slamming into you, but you felt so good already. 

You nodded and took a deep breath, but it was Eddie attaching his mouth back onto the sweet spot on your neck and sucking that relaxed you the most. The need that overtook you let Eddie finally bottom out, both of you letting out filthy moans at the feeling. “Fuck good girl, there you go, feel so fucking good” Eddie praised you, not moving yet, giving you time to adjust to him inside you. But you were sure that if he didn’t move soon you were going to cry. 

“Eddie please move, I’m okay– Need you to fuck me” You begged. He pulled up from where he was tracing kisses down your throat, readjusting himself to rest on his forearms either side of your head. 

Eddie pulled his hips and back and pushed all the way back in, your legs secured around his waist, keeping him as close to you as possible. The way he grinded his hips into you had you seeing stars, soft whimpers falling from your lips every time he pressed into you harder and deeper.

 At one particular thrust you let out the the most pornographic moan you had ever heard yourself make, making Eddie fuck you harder, making sure to hit that spot deep inside of you that no one else had ever reached before. Your cunt clenched around him at the sensation and he let out a deep groan from the back of his throat, his hips faltering for a second before he pushed back into you even harder than before. “Fucking Jesus– shit y/n you can’t do that to me” he moaned out “Gonna make me come so fuckin’ fast, you’re so tight already oh my god– .” He was just talking to distract himself from his impending orgasm at this point, determined to make you come before him. 

You and Eddie found a perfect rhythm after a while, your hips rolling against his as he kept hitting that sweet spot inside you. Your eyes closed and Eddie wasn’t having any of it, repeatedly telling you to look at him. But no matter how many times he said it your eyes would inevitably close again, too overcome with pleasure to focus on anything else. 

Eddie brought his hand to your neck and simply rested it there, giving you the freedom to tell him to stop or move it if you didn’t like it. But when your hand moved to rest over his and you looked up at him with fucked-out eyes, he tightened his hold on your neck and you cried out. “Yeah? You like that, you just need someone to be a little rough with you huh?” Eddie teased, “It’s okay, just wanna be treated like a whore sometimes is that right? God you’re so fucking good for me doll”. His hand kept a firm hold across your throat, making sure to squeeze in the correct places so he didn’t cut off your air supply completely, but gave you that feeling of euphoria you craved. 

It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. Your arousal covering your cunt and things, the noises were filthy but it felt so good that you weren’t embarrassed by how you could hear how wet you were each time Eddie drove his cock into you. Your thighs were numb around Eddie’s waist, your hips burning as you felt that coil tightening in your stomach again. His hand around your throat pinning you to the bed was your last straw, you felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes from how good you felt. 

“Fuck Eddie– I’m gonna-” You tried to tell him, his grip on your neck loosening slightly, making it easier for you to speak. 

“You’re gonna come again angel?” You nodded, whimpers and moans falling from your lips. Eddie moved his hand from around your neck, moving it between your two bodies until he placed two fingers over your clit, rubbing fast circles over it. 

Your back arched off the bed and your mouth hung open in a silent scream. “There you go, good fucking girl.” Eddie exclaimed, watching you in adoration as you came undone beneath him for the second time that night. 

You didn’t even know how long your orgasm lasted, but Eddie worked you through it until you came back around. Looking up at him above you, damp hair clinging to his forehead, kiss-bitten lips parted as he let out quiet moans at the feel of your cunt around him, you could see how desperate he was to come. 

“God, can you turn over for me doll” Eddie asked, but he was already pulling out of you and gripping your hips to put you in the position he wanted you. Your legs felt like they were going to give out any minute, but you didn’t care. You moved onto your front and Eddie pulled your hips back against him as your back arched up, burying your face into the pillow in front of you. Eddie slipped back in and you practically screamed out at the overstimulation, but you never wanted him to stop. 

“God that’s it– gonna come soon angel, doing so well for me.” Eddie’s voice came out raspy and his voice broke at the end. You only pushed your hips back into him harder. 

You felt Eddie still inside of you as he came hard and fast, not bothering to hold back the tidal wave of moans and groans that left his lips as his orgasm washed over him. His hands holding your hips so tightly you wouldn't be surprised if there were bruises there in the morning. 

He took a minute to compose himself before he pulled out of you, you whimpered at the feeling and he whispered comforting sh-sh-sh’s and apologised repeatedly. You managed to gather enough energy to turn yourself back over. Eddie walked back over to the bed, his boxers already back on. He knelt on the end of the bed and pulled some tissues from the table nearby. “Open your legs for me doll” You did as he asked, letting out little gasps as he cleaned you up, still sensitive from everything that had just happened. “You want a top to sleep in? Or…” Eddie asked, slightly more abrupt than you had been expecting, but you figured it was just the comedown after sex. 

“Yeah please” you answered quietly, reaching out to grab one of his tops he had already gone to get for you. You threw it, and your underwear, back on. Not entirely sure of what happened now, but when Eddie simply turned off the lamps around the room and climbed into bed you followed his lead and he only reached over to pull you across him as he fell asleep. 

There weren’t any more words exchanged between the two of you as you finally drifted off to sleep, limbs tangled together. 

.

.

.

You woke up to the morning sun beating through the windows. The spring sun sitting high in the sky, lighting the room up in a near-magical way. You awoke in almost the same position you had fallen asleep in, except now you were facing away from Eddie, instead of being buried in his still bare chest. 

You yawned quietly and stretched your arm above you, careful not to wake Eddie. This was all still so surreal. Your eyes scanned the room you had woken up in, being able to take in your surroundings properly for the first time.

Your gaze was drawn to the living room that was directly across from the bedroom, there were no doors leading to the two rooms, instead being replaced instead by overly-sized archways which allowed you to see right through the bedroom to the living room. The rooms were only separated by the wide hallway. 

The living room was ginormous, and one wall was simply a massive window, overlooking the city skyline, it was beautiful, you couldn't deny that. The couch sat in the middle of the room with a glass coffee table in front of it, decorated with magazines and a vase of flowers. You took a wild guess that those were always there, you didn’t imagine Eddie was requesting for flowers to be put in his room. 

A tv sat on the other side of the room, with various other decorative pieces scattered around, the most eye-catching was the massive rug that covered most of the floor. The dim lights illuminated the elegance of the place, and you couldn’t help but feel this place was the opposite of Eddie. 

You felt your stomach drop at the realisation that you still didn’t understand Eddie. He had been perfect last night, it felt like something out of a romance novel where the guy is the perfect man, attentive and caring. But he wasn’t like that at the start of the night, and by the end of the night he didn’t say another word to you.

Before you could overthink it anymore a loud knock rang through the suite. You remembered Eddie’s security saying he would come over in the morning, but Eddie wasn’t stirring. You considered shaking him awake, but just as you were about to turn over and wake him another knock came from the door. Louder this time, followed by a deep voice calling out Eddie’s name, saying something like “Get your ass up and out of bed or I swear to god–” 

That seemed to cut through even Eddie’s deepest sleep and you felt the bed dip as Eddie begrudgingly got up and padded over to open the door before it was knocked down. You didn’t think he had noticed you were awake too, so you didn’t move, instead staying in bed and listening to the conversation happening down the hall. 

“Ah! He’s still alive, that’s always good to know, makes my job easier.” you heard the sarcastic remarks of Eddie’s security, hearing humor in his voice for the first time. 

“Do you like pissing me off this early in the morning, John? Or is it a happy accident?” Eddie retaliated, sounding much too like a sullen teenager for a forty year old man. 

“Happy accident. Is the young lady awake or do you want me to come back?” John asked, peering behind Eddie trying to catch a glimpse of you. He couldn’t of course, you still hadn’t moved from the bed. 

“No she’s uh– asleep.” Eddie’s voice got quieter as he said something else to John. So quiet you didn’t hear the rest of the conversation, just the door shutting about a minute later, and Eddie’s footsteps as he made his way back to the bedroom. 

Your eyes met as he walked in and you sat up on the edge of the bed, ankles crossed as you placed your hands behind you, leaning back. You saw Eddie carrying the clothes that had been left in the hallway the night before, placing them down on the bed and nodding his head in acknowledgment. 

“He’s like a grumpy dad or something” you tried to joke, letting out a feeble attempt at a laugh. Not that he was even old enough to be Eddie’s dad, in fact he was probably only a couple years older than him. 

“Uh-huh.” Was all Eddie said, but you thought you saw him tense up. So, you took your second wild guess of the morning that maybe you shouldn’t bring up parents with Eddie, seemingly a sore subject for him. 

That was something else about Eddie. He had been in the public eye for nearly fifteen years now, and yet no one knew anything about his life before. Literally, nothing. You figured that had to be deliberate, there was no way no one had found out anything about him, or what his life was like before, but if they had, they had probably been paid off to keep their mouths shut. You couldn’t imagine why, almost every rockstar had a dodgy past, scandals and an arrest record were commonplace. They didn’t care about any of that, but Eddie was different. 

Eddie’s morning voice cut through your thoughts. “John will uh, be back in like two minutes. So, you can get dressed if you want.” 

Oh. 

You watched Eddie as he threw on a pair of jeans and a top, not bothering to look at you as he all but told you to leave. “He’s already called a cab for you so– yeah.” You wanted to say something, ask him something, anything. But you didn’t know what. 

This was what he did. You had known this going into it. 

Instead you threw on your clothes from the day before, barely having time to put your shoes on before there was a knock on the door. Your head flew up to see Eddie was already staring at you as he leant against the archway to the living room. He quickly turned away as your eyes met and he pushed himself off the wall to walk over and open the door. You followed far behind, standing halfway down the hallway, holding back tears you could feel forming. You were so fucking stupid. 

As soon as the door opened John saw you stood there. You swear you saw something like pity flash in his eyes before he went back to his usual, somewhat angry, demeanor. “I’m gonna go see if the other guys are up yet, need to talk to them about some changes for tonights show.” Eddie’s voice was quiet but you could hear it all the same. John just nodded and moved to the side to let Eddie past. 

You thought he would say goodbye to you. 

Say something before he left. 

He didn’t. 

He left you standing in his hotel room, his security guard waiting to walk you to the cab waiting for you outside. Your stomach dropped at the realisation that you weren’t any different to the others. That he probably spoke to everyone the way he had spoken to you, looked at them the way he looked at you. 

It would have killed you to realise that he didn’t speak to everyone like that, and he certainly didn’t look at everyone the same way he looked at you. And he knew that, and it scared the shit out of him. 

So he left. 

.

.

.

authors note my loves! this took me far too long to write so i hope you enjoyed it, at least a little bit <3 i apologise for any spelling or grammar mistakes but i'm posting this at 2am so it is what it is. also, this is still only my second ever fic, so please go easy on me, i'm way too sensitive <3 okay bye love you

taglist @squidwards-fave-tentacle @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @thatfantagirl @icant-hangout-imdrumming

#eddie munson smut #older!eddie #rockstar!eddie #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #eddie munson comfort #stranger things 4 #older!eddie smut #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson #st4 #eddie munson st4 #eddie my beloved #eddie munson the love of my life #eddie munson fluff #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female character #eddie the banished #corroded coffin #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joequinn #strangerthingsedit #eddie stranger things #stranger things #josephquinnedit #eddie smut

[spookysteddie]

Text Me The Details

Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader

18+ MINORSDNI

cw: gossip magazines, reader being horny on a live stream, cocky!Eddie, drinking, drugs mention

a/n: I kinda want this to be a series? So expect a part two at some point. But yeah this isn't an original idea so, credit to literally everyone who's done this before me. I gave reader a last name because if I have to write y/l/n one more time I'll sob. ANYWAY I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you like this!

WC: 1.2k

...

You are never drinking again. Ever.

Your management would agree after what happened last night. You didn’t mean to spill the secret you’d been keeping. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, however, you had an image to keep up. The party girl, the kind one, the one with lots of friends, the girl who had good grades in college, the one who always donated most of her fortune to various organizations. 

Now, every tabloid was writing articles about your celebrity crush. 

Party girl and influencer drunkenly admits she’d love to sleep with lead singer of Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson. Sources have said they’ve been together for a while but decided to keep it under wraps. 

The dating portion of that article wasn’t true and you silently vow to figure out who the fuck these ‘sources’ were. However, you admitting to wanting to fuck Eddie… did happen. You have no one to blame but yourself. 

Now, there are three reasons why you’re so stressed about this. First, even though you party all the time, you were good. You know, like only went out on the weekends, did every single assignment, tutored people on the side, was probably the most unproblematic influencer out there. Second, the last thing you wanted was Eddie Munsons attention. You had this thing where you didn’t want the people you were fans of to perceive you. 

Theoretically you knew they did, most of them followed you on social media. But there was a difference between being a fan of someone, and them semi-knowing you vs your actual crush who you own a poster or two of? That makes you want to throw up and pass out at the same time. 

But, finally, the third reason this stressed you out was because Eddie and his crew were not good. You know like, partied every single day, smoked a lot of weed and snorted coke off of his groupies and fans. It was all over the tabloids and the band has even posted about it a time or two. You didn’t do that. And if the tabloids caught you doing that, you’d lose everything you worked towards.

“So this is how we’re going to fix it,” Case, your manager, says from where she’s standing next to the fireplace in your apartment. “You’re gonna go back on live and say it was an accident.” 

You look up from the article you were reading, eyes finding his. “That is the worst idea ever. I was tipsy not black out drunk. No one will ever believe that was an accident.” You huff, locking your phone, “and I have tickets to their show next week.” 

You loved your team, but sometimes they made the most insane comments on how to fix the unfixable. 

You stand, pacing the room, “he isn’t one to read gossip magazines. And-and I’m not on the same level as his band. They’re A listers and I’m C list at best.” 

Your manager and publicist look like fish after what you said. Anna, your publicist speaks first, “I swear to god if you ever say that again I am uppin your therapy appointments. You hear me?” 

You huff, sitting back down on the couch, “I’m not kidding though. I’m not giving up this ticket. It’s one of the few things I’m looking forward to.” 

Case answers after rubbing her temples, “you better pray this blows over without him seeing it. You may party but his partying is a whole other level.” 

… 

The call came two days later, an unknown number popping up on your phone. 

You knew, you knew before you even accepted the call who’d be on the other end of the line. 

It felt like it started in slow motion, first came the gossip mags with the original story. Then came Eddie following you on instagram. He’d like a few photos and stories you put up. Then came his interview. The interview where he said, “of course I know who she is. I’m flattered really. I hear she’s a sweet girl.” 

Now, your phone is buzzing in your hand and you can’t bring yourself to answer the phone. 

“Yes just a fucking person. Just like you’re a person. Answer the phone.” You look down at the phone and are thankful it’s just you in your house. You tap the answer button, a fake smile on your face, as you put the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?” you use your best interview voice, the one Anna has drilled into you. 

You can hear him breathe in before letting it out, long and slow, it’s clear he took a drag of his cigarette. Is he nervous too? There’s no way. Eddie always seemed to be this cool and calm guy, never afraid of anything or anyone. He gets into more fights in a week than you have in your entire 25 years of existence. 

“Good afternoon, Miss Asher.” You can hear the grin in his voice and it sends a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s Eddie.” 

He didn’t have to introduce himself to you, you’d be able to pick out his voice in a crowded room. But only because you’ve listened to his music so often… only reason. 

“Oh! Hi! I’m s-surprised to hear from you.” You cringe at the stutter that came out of you. You had more than enough practice dealing with any situation thrown at you. From the funny to the uncomfortable to the scary. You were trained for this and you were fucking it up. “How can I help you?” 

“The band and I will be in town next friday, we’re playing a show.” You know where this is going and it makes your heart beat faster, so fast you’re scared it’ll burst. “I was wonderin’ if you were goin’?”

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

“I am, actually. Me and a few of my friends actually.” You rub your hands down your sweatpants, nerves making them sweat. 

“Oh! Well that is fantastic,” his tone is chipper as hell and you know he’s high. On what, you have no idea. “I was thinkin’ that maybe ya friends and you’d wanna join us backstage. VIP area for the show? What cha think?” 

All of sudden you forget how the english language works, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long. Well, in your dreams of course. But looking at it from a business perspective, it could bring his fans to your page and your fans to his page. It was kind of a win win. Well, win win lose because then Corroded coffin knows who the actual fuck you are and you arent just some fan. And that, terrified you,  

“Heeeeeeello? Are you there?” 

His voice breaks through your clogged mind, forcing you to respond. 

“Hi, sorry. I’m here! I um I got distracted. But, yeah that sounds great, actually. We-we’d love that.” 

“Good! I will have my people call your people, yeah?” 

“O-or you can just send me the information,” you say it before thinking and now you really want to punch yourself. 

He chuckles to himself, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll text you the information. See you next friday.” 

He hangs up before you can say another fucking stupid thing. You press the phone into your hands, foot bouncing on the floor with nerves. You can think of seven different ways that conversation could’ve (and should’ve) happened. One of which was with your entire team, another being with your friends, another being with your parents. Not alone to make a fool out of yourself. Your management team was really going to kill you.

#stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fic #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader #Rockstar!Eddie x influencer!reader

[shybunnie20]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

★Teaser ★My Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is catapulted into the world of fame and temptation as he pursues the opportunity of a lifetime. However, he underestimates the cost of stardom and subsequently pays the price, one that takes a toll on more than just his career.

Author's Note: It's time to sprinkle some dark tones with a dash of fluff into the mix. Enjoy!

AU with no Upside Down. No use of Y/N. Established relationship. Heavy angst with bittersweet ending. Eddie is 21.

Word count: 15.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+, substance abuse/addiction, depictions of depression, analogies relating to death, mentions of sex and suggestive moments, includes swearing.

The Hideout, in all its historic glory. The booth seats are weathered and splintered, each having housed countless conversations for over a decade. Stubbornly sticky floors cling to every shoe sole, and exposed piping makes for a rusted, industrial web. Last but not least, the unmistakable pounding of live music seeps out onto the street.

The stage itself is a basic platform, constructed from wooden planks that’ve seen their fair share of acts. Positioned closest to the brick wall is Gareth’s drum kit, gleaming with a metallic sheen that contrasts the muted tones of the room. Center stage, a microphone stands tall with Eddie’s hand gripped around it. Jeff and Donny play nearby, their amps standing guard on stage left and right. Their amplifiers wear marks of use, covered in peeling stickers and the scars of reckless transportation.

Melodies are skillfully coaxed from the strings of Eddie’s guitar in the sweltering lights. They envelop him, casting a golden glow that glistens in the rivulets of sweat dripping from his temple. His hand-cut muscle shirt, once a light gray, now clings to his torso in dark-soaked patches.

His senses are attuned to every note strummed and the subtleties of his bandmates’ musicianship. From beneath his damp bangs, Eddie steals glances at his friends with a dancing smile. Their expressions mirror his, reflecting the visceral connection that was forged in the crucible of tiresome rehearsals.

The room is relatively empty apart from the bar stools inhabited by regular patrons who are three sheets to the wind. Only one solitary figure occupies a corner table. His face features a thick, meticulously groomed mustache; a throwback to an era where a well-defined stache symbolized nerve and authority. His balding crown and the strap of sparse hair framing the sides of his head pair fittingly with the bags beneath his deep-set, beady eyes. The dark circles act as badges of dedication, a reminder that success comes at a cost.

He stands out like a sore thumb among the hard-up regulars who are clad in their button-up plaids and tattered trucker hats. The man’s style of dress consists of a woven suit jacket, a black polo shirt, and dark slacks. An expensive designer belt completes the ensemble, marking the presence of professionalism.

He’s exuding an aura of casual arrogance as he watches the boys play their hearts out. He possesses an eye for discovering the next big thing, and his gold mine is diamonds in the rough. Eddie has a type of potential that, if adequately nurtured and harnessed, can rake in a lot of dough. Calculating the possibilities that lay ahead, he not only sees an amateur artist on this stage but a malleable asset that he can shape to fit the demands of the industry. It’s no walk in the park to whip a small-town boy into showbiz shape, but he’s capable.

Guys like Eddie are hungry for recognition and starving to make something of themselves. That’s all he requires to work his magic. At this moment, watching Eddie play like it’s the sole purpose of his existence, he can practically smell the crisp wads of cash Eddie will bring in.

As the final chords of Corroded Coffin's instruments dissipate into the dusty air, a lingering hum resonates. The room remains void of applause and the gentleman patiently bides his time in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to make a move.

Gareth is focused on disassembling his drum kit while his bandmates move their equipment into the back alleyway. He’s taken aback when a hairy hand extends toward him and he looks up at the man with a furrowed brow.

“Rodney Bellissimo, Bell Records,” he announces proudly. “But folks call me Mo.”

Gareth’s eyes widen as the words register. “Hi,” He shakes the man’s hand, forgetting to wipe his clammy palms on his jeans first.

Mo conceals his disgust from the soupy contact. "I've been on this scene for a while and I think what you guys have going on here is promising.”

“Holy shit, you think so?"

Mo rests his hands on his hips. "Absolutely. Do you got a way for me to reach you? I'd like to talk over some potential opportunities."

“Yeah, um-” Gareth scrambles, patting himself down. “One sec,” he hurries over to the bar, snags a napkin and ballpoint pen, and scribbles while striding back over to the stage. “Here’s all of our phone numbers.”

Mo accepts the napkin and tucks it in his inner breast pocket. “Thanks, I'll be in touch.”

Just as Mo turns to leave, Gareth shouts, “Wait!” he digs through his army green messenger bag. “We don’t have a demo or anything official like that, but this was a recent rehearsal,” he hands over a cassette tape.

Mo takes the tape and shakes it in the air, the reels rattling noisily. “I’ll be sure to give it a listen.”

As the man turns his back and leaves the bar, Gareth’s pulse spikes. He leaps off of the stage and bolts past the restrooms. His sneakers skid on the smooth floor, causing him to trip, but he recovers and carries onward. He bursts through the heavy metal door with a thud and the stiff hinges scream into the alleyway.

Jeff and Donny’s heads turn in unison. In the back of his van, Eddie is equally as startled and smacks his head on the roof. “Ow, Christ!” he exclaims, stepping onto the pebbled pavement and rubbing the tender spot on his skull. “Dude, what the hell?”

“Guys,” Gareth wheezes, his breath escaping in short bursts. "You’re not gonna believe what just happened.”

Eddie folds his arms across his chest. “Whatever it is, it better be worth the goddamn concussion you just gave me.”

“It is,” Gareth hops off of the steps. “Some record dude in a suit just said he liked our set.”

Among the group, Eddie alone received a call. Now his disbelief bleeding into reality as the plane rolls down the runway. He clutches your hand for dear life, anxious as hell due to the unfamiliar rumbling and vibrations. With your presence reassuring him, Eddie can manage until the turbulence subsides. Gradually, he relaxes.

Unable to resist the allure of the window seat, he pleads with you to switch places. “Holy shit,” he chuckles in amazement, watching the fluffy sky marshmallows pass by. “This is insane.”

The landing goes somewhat smoother for him, though it’s not without nervous moments. The plane becomes stationary and is fairly quiet, but his composure shatters when he startles at your fellow passengers bursting into spontaneous applause. Eddie scowls, embarrassed for being so jumpy over something ridiculous like clapping. In his defense, nobody told him that was a thing.

After being taxied to your destination, the two of you arrive at a sun-soaked building. The receptionist directs you down the hall to the left. Walking hand in hand, you marvel at the framed gold and platinum records that adorn the walls.

Finally reaching the door, Eddie turns to you. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he confesses. “I’m seriously about to meet the Poison Blade,” Eddie blinks rapidly. “Okay, yep! I can’t do this, I absolutely cannot do this.”

You reel him back by the hand when he turns to leave. “You can and you’re about to. If anybody can handle this it’s you.”

He has yet to grasp that he’s here, auditioning to fill in for Nick Karr, who recently left the band. Eddie read about it in various magazines, some speculating about what the lead guitarist’s substance of choice was. After the initial rumors spread, an inside source revealed that Nick was in rehab for using narcotics; happens to the best of ‘em.

Eddie sucks in a deep breath and blows with puffed cheeks and pursed lips. After summoning the courage to open the door, he steps into the dimly lit, windowless room. The knots in his stomach get impossibly tighter when the door slams closed.

A cigarette is pinched between the black-painted fingernails of the lead singer. He’s seated at the mixing desk while he chats with the shaggy-haired bassist who’s sitting a few feet away on a loveseat. The heavily tattooed drummer occupies the swivel chair beside the frontman, patting out a rhythm on his thighs. Mo stands nearby, attentively listening to the nicotine-fueled rant.

The bassist’s distant stare is the first to flit in your direction. Eddie squeezes your hand so tensely that your fingertips go numb. As dominoes of awareness fall one after another, a collective acknowledgment of your presence falls upon the room. 

The singer spins around and takes a drag from his cigarette. “Which one is this?” he asks, looking you over and then doing the same to Eddie.

“This here is Ed Munson, Indiana’s best,” Mo offers a polite smile and strides across the room. He extends his hand to Eddie exactly as he did to Gareth just weeks ago. 

Eddie stares at Mo’s sausage fingers and expensive wristwatch while returning the greeting. “Yeah, yes. I uh- go by Eddie actually,” he babbles. “But you can call me Ed if you want, that’s cool too. Whatever’s clever.”

The bassist shakes his head and snickers. Mo disregards the man’s reaction entirely, not batting an eye. “I’m glad you could make it,” his focus shifts to you. “I see you’ve brought a guest.”

“This is my girl,” Eddie nudges you, sending a small smile along with it. “Had to bring my muse along for the ride.”

“Right,” Mo says without a hint of intrigue and carries on. “As I'm sure you’re well aware, these are the guys,” he strides away and clamps his meaty hand on the drummer’s shoulder. “This here is Tommy,” Mo motions toward the other two members. “And that’s Bobby and Crash.”

With a forgotten breath, Eddie’s words pour out. "W-Wow, I mean I've been following your music for like ever and it's fucking unreal to be here right now. Listen, I don’t wanna be that guy, but can I just say that I’m such a huge fan. ‘Where Dreams Go to Die’ is the song that honestly changed my life. It’s the whole reason why I started playing in the first place. I’ve listened to it like a bajillion times. Seriously, Born 2B Wreckless is one of my top five favorite albums ever. I even have your tour posters on my-”

You turn your head toward him and whisper, “Baby, be cool.”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut, withholding any further details that could embarrass the shit out of him. “It’s an honor to be here.”

Crash smirks. “You’ve got good taste, my friend. Wrote most of that album myself.”

The flaking leather sofa creaks as Bobby leans forward. In a carelessly hushed tone, he sighs, “It feels like this is never gonna end. How many more are there?”

“Suck it up, Bobby Boy,” Todd snorts and glances at the list of crossed-out names resting on the mixing board. “Two more after this.”

The bassist groans and sinks back, propping his head up on his fist. Crash’s hands forcefully meet, sending a sharp clap through the room. “Alright, let's get this show on the road then. Do you know the chorus to ‘Too Far Gone’ or do you need sheet music?”

Eddie shakes his head enthusiastically. “No way, I could even play it blindfolded if you wanted me to.”

“Grand,” Crash gestures to the booth’s door. “Hop in and give it a go.” “Totally. Okay, yeah. Shit,” Eddie presses a swift kiss to your interlocked fingers, releases your hand, and steps into the recording booth.

Feeling a bit awkward as you remain standing by the door alone, you’re uncertain of where to park yourself. Ideally, you’d like to be as inconspicuous as possible. The last thing you need is to ruin everything by tripping over a cord or something.

Bobby senses that you’re uneasy judging by the look on your face. He brings his extended leg closer to the other, making room on the couch as a silent invitation for you to sit. You scurry over and take a seat, unable to squeak out a thanks or a mere hello. Your posture is rigid and demure, despite there being ample space for you to sit comfortably.

Under the weight of the headphones, Eddie’s plush curls are flattened. He beams at you through the large pane of glass and flashes a thumbs up. Crash instructs him to use the provided guitar. As the track’s beat floods Eddie’s ears, his anxiety overpowers his dexterity, causing him to fall behind the tempo.

Crash abruptly cuts the music, and Eddie’s eyes bulge as he looks out, terrified that he’s just screwed his only chance at making it big. However, with a whirl of Crash’s tattooed index finger, Eddie’s worry dissipates when the track is rewound and begins once more.

On the edge of your seat, literally and figuratively, you watch Eddie collect himself and keep up this time. The tension wracking your entire being is exacerbated by Mo loudly chewing his gum, but it seems that you’re the only one bothered by it. A smug smile splits his patchy stubble as he boasts to the men that this nobody he discovered is the real deal.

The guys are less than obvious about how impressed they are. Compared to the other chumps who have auditioned ahead of him, Eddie stands out. Sure, he’ll need to clean up his playing a bit and could more than likely use some vocal lessons, but these are doable things. After all, he’s already got the look and an undeniable eagerness to prove himself.

After they’ve heard all they need from him, he steps out of the booth. Mo pats him on the back, “You handled yourself well in there.”

“Oh, thanks,” Eddie grins bashfully, fiddling with his cross-shaped ring.

Todd says, “You’ve got some chops, man. You’re definitely someone I’d be down to jam with.”

A snort comes from the far end of the couch. Bobby crosses his arms, eyeballing Eddie’s flushed face. “Yeah, good job, kid. You’d make a fine addition,” the corner of his mouth quirks up. “If only we wouldn’t have to schedule our rehearsals around your bedtime,” he chuckles to himself. “Seriously, how old are you, anyway? 17?”

“Bobby, shut your yap,” Mo barks. “Ed, we’ve got some things to consider, but be sure to keep an ear on your telephone.”

You scramble to your feet as your boyfriend is ushered to the door. The polite side of you considers turning around to bid everyone farewell, but you decide against it, considering they never even bothered to say hello.

Mo did get in touch with Eddie and since then, he put pen to paper and sold his soul to the music industry. He’s been in LA for about a week now, familiarizing himself with the lay of the land and learning how to work a real crowd. His first show with the band is tonight and the pressure is on. Currently, he’s seated at the brightly lit vanity in his dressing room. Eddie fluffs his mane, admiring the bounce after having gotten a fancy schmancy conditioning treatment. “Baby,” he calls out.

“Hmm?” You finish folding the clothes that he just changed out of.

Eddie stretches a strand and watches it spring back into a coil. “Can you do my eyeliner for me?”

“What, worried you’ll look like a raccoon if you do it?” You approach the vanity, but Eddie slips out of his seat and moves to the armchair instead. Quirking your brow at him brings a devilish look to his face. “Is this necessary?”

Eddie pats his thigh, to which you sit on his lap with your legs off to one side. “Very much so,” he wraps his arms around your waist and smacks a wet kiss on your cheek. “You’ll get optimal lighting right here.”

“I’d confidently argue that it’s worse,” you counter, watching the chocolate puddles in his eyes swirl. Heat blooms across your skin as he rubs your hip with the comforting swipe of his thumb.

“Perhaps, but this view is way better for me so,” He hands over the jet-black pencil.

“Uh huh,” You run the liner across the back of your hand to warm the product. His lashes flutter closed in response to you tipping his chin up.

“Don’t go poking my eye out with that thing,” Eddie teases, peeking one eye open and smiling at your faux scowl.

“I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for committing such an atrocity,” you rest your wrist on his cheekbone and gently swipe the pencil across his lash line. “Not when you’ve got such pretty eyes.”

He forces air out of his nose. “Careful with the flattery, sweetheart. It’ll go straight to my head.”

“Believe me, I know,” You affirm, licking your thumb and smudging the product.

“Are you tryna get me all riled up before I have to go on stage?”

“It’s only fair.”

Eddie’s chest rumbles with curiosity. “How so?”

“Because,” you switch to his other eye, your wrist now resting across the bridge of his nose. “This look is really doing it for me,” your tone is playful, but the interlaced confession is clear as day. You finish by using the same thumb to smudge the liner.

Sensing the loss of your touch, Eddie looks into your eyes. “Oh, yeah?” he squeezes the dough of your hip and licks his lips. “Tell me what it’s doin’ for you, baby,” his right arm stays in place while the other finds its way to the top of your thigh. “Is it makin’ you feel needy?”

“Yeah,” The breath has been stolen from your lungs as you lean into his chest. You can’t help but squirm in his lap when his fingers grope your thigh. “Maybe a little.” 

The friction causes a groan to rattle from his throat. “Fuck,” he sighs, sounding just as winded as you do. “You gotta be a good girl and wait,” Eddie presses his nose against yours. “Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll try,” you whine, your nails grazing the sensitive skin on the nape of his neck. “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

A smile crawls onto his lips as Eddie slides his hand under your shirt and grasps at your waist.

“No! Your hands are freezing!” you cry out, instinctively trying to fight the shock. With a pained giggle, you pout at him. “You’re so mean.”

“Who, me?” he purrs, tugging you back against him.

“Yeah, you,” You smile shyly. His embrace is overwhelmingly gentle, yet secure all the same. Your lips hover over his, breaths dancing, and he seals the kiss; a promise for the passionate evening he’s going to treat you to as soon as he has the chance.

The way that you return the kiss just as hungrily tells him that you would let him take you right here, right now if he could. Your intensity only spurs him on, the exhale from his nose fanning hotter against your cheek. “Such a needy baby,” he fawns before stealing one more kiss, this one no less fervent than the last.

You nod in agreement and just then, the dressing room door is wrapped on and he’s being called to the stage. “Knock 'em dead,” You encourage while sliding off of his lap.

Eddie gets to his feet and caresses your cheeks with both of his hands. “Thank you for being here,” he brings you to his chest and kisses the top of your head. “It means the world to me.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it,” you snuggle up to him, but when you realize that he’s not budging, you have to pry him off of you. “Go! You’re gonna be late.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie walks to the door and turns around, pointing his ringed finger in your direction with a smirk. “Behave yourself, little missy. I mean it.”

The show goes well. Really well, in fact. Eddie commands the audience all while playing exceptionally. His energy encourages his bandmates to kick it up a notch, making for an electrifying performance. After they play their final song and step off of the stage, Eddie is immediately searching for you. When you lock eyes, he sprints over, scoops you up by your middle, and spins you around. The kiss is sticky, salty, and downright unforgettable. He’s so sweaty and sorry about it, but he’s never felt so much exhilaration in his life.

For the celebratory dinner to commemorate the evening, the guys opt for the area’s most expensive seafood restaurant. Eddie tries everything for the first time while wearing a paper bib with a large cartoon lobster on it. 

When he sucks back an oyster, his face displays flat-out repulsion and offense. To wash the taste and its consistency from his mind, Eddie indulges in a few too many drinks. By the end of it, you’re more or less carrying him back to the hotel room.

Eddie is in a state of total bliss with his belly full and mind fuzzy. He flops down on the cushy bed and smiles goofily at you. “I could get used to this,” he snorts drunkenly.

The next morning, a chauffeur takes both of you to the airport. You wish you could have more time together, but Eddie is leaving for the next city in a few hours. He’s officially a part of the band now, and they’re embarking on a cross-country tour. You want to be excited for him, you’re trying your best to be. But it’s a bummer that you can’t tag along.

Standing on the cracked pavement, you watch as Eddie lugs your suitcase from the trunk of the shiny black car. The bustle of intercom announcements, car doors slamming, and engines roaring overhead, all sound distant. Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears as you dread the impending separation, readying yourself to convince him that you’ll be okay for as long as he’s gone.

“Here,” Eddie unclasps the ball chain from his neck and steps forward to latch it around yours. “So you’ll have a little piece of me,” It’s a reminder that you’re on this journey together, even if you’re in different places for it.

“I’ll never take it off,” you promise, flipping the tortoiseshell pick between your fingers. “I wish I had something to give you.”

Eddie shakes his head, sending his frizzy hair flying in the breeze. “You’ve given me so much just by believing in me. Without you, I probably never would’ve flown on an airplane, much less joined my favorite fucking band.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, his appreciation effectively drawing you closer to him. “Have fun and be safe,” your last word turns into a squeal when he pulls your body against his. It feels good to have his face buried in your shoulder, so good that it’s riding the line of painful.

“God, I’m gonna miss that laugh,” he mumbles, the material of your shirt effectively dampening his voice. Eddie smothers himself and groans dramatically. “Gonna miss you so much.”

Without being able to understand what he’s saying, you can feel the heat of his breath hitting your skin. “You’ll stay out of trouble?”

Eddie clings to you a bit longer, filling his lungs with your scent. “You know I will,” he mumbles again before pulling back. “I wanna make you proud,” He kisses the tip of your nose and flashes a smile, the deep lines around his mouth emphasizing his sincerity.

“I already am, I’ve always been proud of you.”

“Then I’m gonna make you even more proud,” Eddie doubles down. “I’m gonna send you flowers and chocolates and all that shit, ‘kay? That way you’ll never have the chance to forget how much I love you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you roll your eyes, though you adore that he’s a hopeless romantic beneath his leather and chain exterior. “Just call me whenever you can.”

Eddie chuckles with you, but he’s dead serious about the gifts. “If a chirping telephone is thy heart’s desire, then thou shalt have it, my dearest.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, and I’ll make them the best damn phone calls you’ve ever had,” Eddie reassures, stroking the side of your neck with his thumb.

“I’m holding you to that,” you slowly pull away.

“You better,” Eddie says with reluctance, releasing you and picking up your suitcase. “Because otherwise, I’ll have to write the sappiest ballad you’ve ever heard just to make up for it.”

Looking down, you take your suitcase and fixate on the zipper, unable to acknowledge his playful remark.

Eddie lifts your chin to bring your gaze back to his. “You know I’m gonna miss you like hell, right?”

You nod sheepishly, fighting with all your might for the tears to remain unshed. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

“Give Shadow lots of treats for me.”

“Not a chance! She’s going on a diet as soon as I get home. You know she’s only fat because you give her a treat any time she even looks at you, right?”

“Can you blame me? She’s the cutest fucking cat in the world,” Eddie’s eyes glisten, accompanied by a bittersweet smile. He takes a deep breath, the exhale sounding sadder than he means for it to. “You better get going.”

“I suppose so. Well, goodbye,” Your throat tightens as you hold your breath.

Eddie sucks his teeth. “Not ‘bye,’ sweetheart. See you soon.”

Not soon enough. You try to keep it together as Eddie kisses your knuckles, and your heart sinks when his hand lets go of yours. A gnawing need for one last glance overcomes you while you walk away. Looking back, you find Eddie where you left him. A veil of tears drapes over your vision as you raise your hand, offering a partial wave.

He mirrors your final farewell and waits for you to disappear inside the building. Only when he can no longer see you does he release a heavy-hearted sigh and get back into the car.

Meanwhile, you’re standing in the TSA line with guilt clawing at you. How could you even entertain the thought of wanting him to miss out on a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity just to stay home? It wasn’t fair for you to even imagine it. As you inch forward, the tears sting your eyes. You understand what your job is, that you must be patient and await his return while he introduces himself to the world. You’re just going to have to learn to share.

This is going to be the best summer of his life thus far, excluding the one where he fell for you. Nothing will ever top that.

He kept his word for a while, calling nightly as often as he could. The gifts arrived on your doorstep just like he said. There were two dozen roses last week, and Swiss chocolates this week. You’d never tasted anything that sweet but it was unbelievably bitter too, because every gift marked another seven days gone by without him.

Whenever Eddie called, you refrained from burdening him with your feelings. The elation was always present in his voice when he told you about what he’d been up to. Regardless if there was thumping music, blaring car horns, or his speech was slurred, it was always evident how great of a time Eddie was having. You were unwilling to take that away from him by giving him a reason to worry. Independence surely hasn’t treated you as kindly as him.

The cicadas' songs are sung on high and the days stretch on too much for your liking. You lie around and wilt alongside the shriveled petals falling from the vase on the dining table. The unraveling doesn’t stop until you’re nothing but a raw, exposed stem.

As Eddie sails the U.S.S. Poison Blade, riding an all-consuming sea of fans and fame, you feel like a woman whose husband may never return home. Sleeping has never felt so lonely. The clean bed, soft against your skin, offers no relief. The cotton sheets no longer bear his scent, having undergone numerous wash cycles without the return of his presence to refresh it.

You’ve been stress cleaning, channeling your woes into tidying up the apartment more than ever before. From floor to ceiling, your place is spick and span. But, you can only rearrange the Tupperware cupboard so many times. You’ve crossed off item after item on your to-do lists. The point has been reached where you’ve run out of tasks to keep yourself occupied.

In the evenings, Shadow perches herself expectantly on the arm of the couch, awaiting Eddie’s return from work. It’s a daily occurrence for him to come home, kick off his boots, and she curls up in his lap. Eddie has been her favorite since the day you brought her home. You can’t blame her, he’s your favorite too.

During one of the calls that have become few and far between, you ask Eddie about a tabloid headline that you saw. He brushes it off, claiming that they come up with absurd shit to make a quick buck. Eddie assures you that he’s behaving himself, despite the paparazzi photo suggesting otherwise.

You’ve been meaning to talk about what’s next, but you’re too afraid to ask. Is he expecting you to move to LA once the tour ends? Will you have to leave your friends and family behind to be there with him?

Eddie’s concerns align with yours. He didn’t take the time to think this through. Joining one of the most successful metal bands in the country isn’t a temporary gig where he does one tour for fun and then returns to his ordinary life. That’s not how it works.

Day after day, Eddie lives without the promise of having you in his arms anytime soon. His responsibilities yank him every which way, and the only thing keeping him from packing up and running home to you is the damn contract he signed.

Eddie knows you’d never leave him, but there’s that cynical little voice in his head that tries to convince him otherwise. There’s a chance that you could find another guy to keep you company while he’s gone, someone who knows how to steal you away from him. Just the thought of it makes him feel sick to his stomach.

Great things keep happening and he finds himself with the urge to tell you, but he can’t get to a phone. When he does, he’s going to have to break the news that the tour has been extended. Worse yet, the Indianapolis date was moved another three months out. But Eddie doesn’t care how complicated this gets; he tells you that he’s going to do whatever it takes. “I know it sucks, baby. But if you can just wait a little longer, I swear I’ll make it up to you.”

The moving tour bus sways Eddie with a bumpy rocking motion, an unrelenting reminder that he’s not with you. It’s not even the shaking walls that are keeping him awake, it’s his running mind. He’s lying in his cramped bunk in the pitch darkness. He longs to see you and all he has to look at are his memories. With his eyes wide open, the space is as black as the backs of his eyelids. He tries to envision your sweet face but it’s fading.

Eddie thinks about the time that he swatted your butt with a wet dish towel. You chased him into the bedroom, pinned him down, and threatened to tickle him to death. It was an adequate threat, considering how ticklish he is. Eddie hates the way that it feels, but the sheer delight it brings you makes it worthwhile.

He allowed you to do it just so he could see that sparkle in your eyes. Eddie thought he’d have to flip you on your back to get you to stop, but that wasn’t the case. You showed him mercy by running your nails along his tender sides to soothe his nerves. One kiss led to another.

Eddie chuckles sadly to himself, desperate for the showers you take together after rolling around in the sheets. You bathe each other with wholehearted tenderness, the raw arousal burned away through exertion, leaving behind the silk-soft adoration. Mute with delicate smiles, you put each other back together after a night of clawing and nipping.

Time and time again, exhaustion and bliss weigh heavily on your eyes while his palms cover you with foamy suds. The scent of the body wash is so clean and pure compared to the unholy things you do to each other. The fresh and sweet aroma invades Eddie’s oxytocin-flooded brain, putting him in seventh heaven.

It’s the way you lean into him like you can’t possibly stand on your own while he pampers you, that’s what’s getting him right now. He doesn’t mind when you do that, he never will. Eddie finds every second of that routine intoxicating and he’ll never get sick of it. He’s willing to hold you upright forever if that means he gets to hold you at all.

The throbbing in his chest swells as tears roll, imagining how you rake conditioner through his curls and kiss his newly cleansed back. You handle him with such care, something that he’d never felt until he met you. Eddie could go for a shower like that right now. Actually, scratch that. What he really needs is sleep, but he can’t. He’s struggled with insomnia since his early teen years, and it wasn’t until much later that he finally found a way to fall asleep without fail.

Before you came along, Eddie often stared at his bedroom walls for what felt like hours. He’d swear that they would start to drip the longer he went without blinking. The first night that you spent together was an innocent sleepover, born out of infatuation that had taken hold. Neither of you wanted to part for longer than necessary.

As you prepared for bed with your usual process, he observed every action. You placed a glass of milky tap water on the nightstand and washed your face. It was captivating and Eddie wondered if adopting such habits would help him. But he wasn’t sure if a little bit of self-care would put an end to the tossing and turning.

You looked tired but beautiful with your refreshed complexion. Crawling into bed beside him, you whispered goodnight, and that was all it took. The amount of envy and privilege he felt was overwhelming—jealous that you could fall asleep so easily in a bed that you’ve never slept in and privileged that you trusted him enough to do so.

For what felt like an eternity, his thoughts ran amok. His mind refused to power down.

Around one in the morning, you stirred and found Eddie lying on his side facing you, zoned out. “Baby?” you called to him in your partially conscious state.

His eyes met yours, but the frustration in them was well hidden in the dark. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered and gently stroked the side of your head.

“You need to rest too,” You yawned, being lulled by his soothing touch.

Eddie pressed a kiss to your forehead and murmured, “I’ll try.”

“Just can’t?” You perked up with concern brought about by his crystal-clear tone.

“Nope. Nothing helps, either,” he rolled his lips in. “I’ve tried everything. Warm milk, exercise, getting so high that I can’t sit up straight,” Eddie shrugged. “I guess I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

You chuckled softly. “Have you tried reading?”

“Yup, it didn't work. I’m convinced that I broke my sleep bone or something.”

“Want me to try? I’ll read to you.”

“No, no. You close those gorgeous eyes of yours and go back to sleep,” He kissed your joined hands, praying that you wouldn’t deprive yourself just because he was defective.

You sat up and fisted the sleepiness from your vision. “What page did you leave off on?” 

Eddie wanted to rip the book from your grasp and chuck it across the room. But, the selfish part of him wanted to see if it would do the trick. “It’s bookmarked,” He sighed and watched as you propped yourself up and got situated. You held your arm out and Eddie crawled closer, wrapped his arm around your waist, and snuggled up to your tummy.

Your right hand held the book open and your left found the side of his head, gently scratching along his temple. He was instantly under your spell, his bones dense with comfort. Whenever your hand left his hair to turn the page, he involuntarily whined. When his breaths slowed, you knew that he was no longer awake. You smiled to yourself and closed your eyes, returning to your slumber with ease.

After that, Eddie no longer dreaded bedtime because you slept over regularly. That was the missing piece and there are no remedies that compare to the effect you have on him. This was something that Eddie overlooked while packing his bags for the tour. Now he’s sleep-deprived and half delirious while the nights flicker and bleed into each other. There’s not much that differentiates them but they’re all lawless. 

You know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder. It’s true in this case, but it’s a tortuous fondness that he can’t alleviate. Maybe you’ll hear him if he sings loud enough during the show tomorrow.

Eddie is having the time of his life, don’t get it twisted. But he’s in dire need of the love that illuminates him in a way that no spotlight ever will.

It’s still strange to hear his name hollered without being followed by a paint-filled water balloon. In Hawkins, he was the chewing gum on the bottom of the town’s shoe. Eddie’s reputation didn’t align with his character. If people had bothered to get to know him, they’d have realized that he was never as much of a troublemaker as he was made out to be. While there were a few instances of shoplifting, it was merely a manifestation of youthful impulse.

The things that he’s doing now—frequenting strip clubs, drinking bars dry,  kicking his feet up in VIP sections, attending mansion parties—are a stark departure from the tame acts of rebellion he’s committed in the past.

At a rowdy bar where the band was causing quite a bit of commotion, an officer was dispatched to address the situation and he gave them a hard time. In a wild turn of events, they managed to convince the cop to take shots with them. It wasn’t long until Crash and Todd yanked the baton from the man’s utility belt and were beating each other with it.

Too far gone to intervene with their antics, the cop could hardly speak. To make matters worse, the two knuckleheads wound up stealing his patrol car and drove it into a light post just yards down the street. That one wound up in the newspapers and magazines, though Eddie wasn’t named as being directly involved.

The people he’s around are the epitome of wild. They break bottles over each other’s heads, heave TV sets out of windows, and they’ve set their fair share of toilet bowls aflame.

Eddie isn’t even given the option to decline the time spent in titty bars. His bandmates usher him into the limo, leaving him no choice in the matter. That being said, resisting would jeopardize how they view him as a newcomer. Now that Eddie is rolling with the big hitters, he can’t take the bench just because his gut instinct is advising against the activities. Thanks to Todd’s signature potion called Diet T—tequila, grenadine, and lemonade with no sugar—Eddie’s inhibitions are fleeting.

Going to strip clubs didn’t sit right with him at first, especially when it came to getting private dances. But Crash offered a different angle that he hadn’t considered. They’re not strippers, they’re dancers whose instruments are their bodies. They’re just performers getting paid for putting on a show, much like the band. After it was painted in that light, Eddie started to feel less guilty about tucking bills into lycra g-strings and getting lap dances. It isn’t personal; it’s strictly business.

The best part of it all? He doesn’t have to be peer pressured anymore, he does it willingly. Todd told Eddie that he has nothing to feel bad about because he’s a rockstar now. He said that the normal relationship rules don’t apply here and there’s no way you’d even find out about any of it.

Eddie’s morals are taking consecutive sick days while he partakes in things he never imagined himself doing. Things he promised you he wouldn’t do and continues to deny having involvement in.

Abruptly awoken from his lifeless state, Eddie is startled by sloppy slaps delivered to his cheeks. He struggles to peel his eyes open, deterred by the pounding in his head. A brittle groan slips past his lips.

Bobby, frustrated by his unresponsive bandmate, vigorously shakes him by the shoulders. “Ed, we’ve gotta hit the road. Get your ass outta bed and put some clothes on.”

“No,” Eddie grunts in protest, yanking the spare pillow over his face. “Go away,” he exhales gravely.

Intervening swiftly, Bobby removes it. “I swear to god,” he implores, the irritation evident due to his hangover. “Quit fuckin’ around. I’m sick of gettin’ chewed out just ‘cause you get too messed up every night.”

“Don’t wanna,” Eddie croaks, clinging to the stale sheets. His movements are sluggish and his vision is bleary.

With the pillow still clutched in his fist, Bobby wails at Eddie’s gut with pitiful force. “Get- the- fuck- up-” He accentuates each word with a resounding smack.

Eddie reacts instinctively by jerking into the fetal position. “Alright, alright!” he flashes Bobby his palm, surrendering. “Lay off, Jesus Christ.”

The bashing ceases, and Bobby tosses the pillow onto the bed. “Mo is gonna lose his shit if we don’t land in Milwaukee on time,“ he scoops up a lone pair of pants and chucks them at Eddie.

“I could give two fucks about Milwaukee,” Eddie grumbles as he sits up at a snail’s pace. On the end table beside him sits a leftover glass of booze, a classic “hair of the dog” remedy. “And I could give a shit about being on schedule,” His words echo in the cup.

“You should give a shit. If we’re not actively flyin’ outta Indiana in 12 minutes-” Bobby gathers the scattered clothes from the floor and haphazardly throws them into the open suitcase. “We’ll never hear the fuckin’ end of it.”

Eddie’s brows furrow. “Hold up, we’re in Indiana?”

“Get up to speed, numb nuts,” Bobby huffs, slams the suitcase shut, and turns it right side up. “Put those fuckin’ pants on or so help me God.”

Eddie leans down and retrieves the jeans. He holds them out, struggling to orient them correctly. “Okay, Dad. Take a chill pill, will ya?” 

“Hah! Not after seein’ what they do to you,” Bobby turns to leave, satisfied that Eddie is getting a move on.

“Wait,” Eddie forces his leg into his jeans, the material flapping noisily. “What do you remember from last night?”

Bobby snorts. “Dude, you took anythin’ that was offered to you. I lost track after two tabs and a coupla lines,” he mimics the act of snorting by pressing his finger to his nostril. “Your lady must notta been too happy ‘bout it ‘cause she looked like she was gonna lose her shit. And not in the ‘I wanna punch you but I still love you way.’ I mean, she was really cryin’.”

Eddie looks down in thought. He manages to grasp a fleeting image of his hazy recollection, and it’s akin to looking at you through a thick pane of fragmented glass. The jagged shards refract the overhead light, obscuring the heartbroken expression on your features.

Suddenly he feels nauseous. It’s hard to tell whether his queasiness stems from the emotional tidal wave or the combination of substances he consumed a few hours ago. Whichever, he’s doing his damndest to suppress it because he doesn’t want to blow chunks first thing in the morning.

“Ten minutes, fuck face. I’m serious,” Bobby flips the bird on his way out of the room.

Eddie spots a silver chain hanging out of the front pocket of his jeans. His twitching fingers take hold of the brownish-red pick. “Oh no,” his eyes widen and his heart plunges into his stomach. “Oh shit. Fuck!” Eddie blurts as he scrambles to his feet, his joints creaking from the awkward position in which he slept. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

The room is in shambles. A lamp lays on its side and the busted bulb is ground into the salmon-colored carpet. Bed sheets are strewn across the floor, the comforter is missing, and the pillow he rested on bears a large bloodstain from his nosebleed. Where the landline used to be attached to the wall is now a gaping hole and the phone itself is nowhere to be seen.

His breathing is labored as he scans his surroundings, desperately searching for his wallet. He’s uncertain if there’s even any change in it, but he’s dead-set on finding out. Eddie drops to his knees, reaching shoulder-deep under the bed. Instead of his wallet, he finds one of his shoes. Potentially helpful, but not right this second. He then proceeds to tear the remaining sheets off of the bed and shakes them out, but nothing thuds against the floor.

Frustrated and still feeling the effects of the previous blackout, Eddie tries to think strategically about where his wallet might have ended up. In his disheveled state, he stumbles into the bathroom and slaps the light switch. The cloudy yellow light flickers to life like the blinking of a neon sign.

Quickly scanning the space, Eddie’s eyes dart over the sink and the toilet. He steps over to the stained clawfoot tub and jerks the patterned curtain aside. The rings scrape against the pole and his wallet is revealed, lying at the bottom of the tub.

With trembling fingers, Eddie digs into the coin pocket. The metal discs feel frigid against his searing skin. He shakes them out into his palm, tapping the coins with his finger to keep track. “Nickel, penny, dime, gum wrapper,” Eddie flicks the ball to the floor. “Dime, quarter, nickel-”

He pivots and rushes out into the hall, taking the long flight of stairs two steps at a time. Emerging in the lobby, Eddie’s bare feet tap as he crosses the polished floor. It’s one thing to be shirtless, but his jeans are unzipped too.

The receiver clatters when he yanks it off of the hook. Coins tumble and clank as he slots them, his breath coming in heavy gasps. Eddie rapidly punches in your phone number with practiced precision. He doesn’t even have to think about the digits, the pattern flows from muscle memory alone.

The line purrs and purrs. Eddie brings his thumbnail to his teeth and winces, having already bitten it bloody. He shakes his hand out and opts to gnaw on his pinky. The relentless ringing ripples through his eardrums and worsens the pounding in his head. A pool of tears gatherers at his lower lash line, making his eyes sting more.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” Eddie mutters urgently. “Answer the phone, sweetheart. Please pick up,” The last ring reverberates and he promptly kills the line. Eddie hurriedly slots more coins and punches in your number again.

He calls you twice more, but the ringing remains unanswered. Out of change and out of time, he slams the receiver back on the hook with a growl. “Son of a bitch!”

“Kid,” Mo thunders from the center of the lobby, marching over to him with anger etched into his aged features. “Why aren’t you dressed?” He asks through gritted teeth, on edge after signing a hefty check to cover the cost of Eddie’s previous hotel room demolition. Of which was more than a shattered lightbulb and a stained pillowcase. “You were supposed to be ready 15 minutes ago,” he grabs Eddie and shoves him in the direction of the elevator, nearly causing him to collide with a woman. “And tell the guys that if they don’t get down here, I’m gonna shove my foot so far up their asses they’ll be able to taste the shoe polish.”

It took the entire day for him to sober up enough to realize that it wasn’t merely a bad trip or his imagination running wild. Eddie dwelled on his inability to recall as the hours ticked by. There are drinks and powders that make him forget things, but why can’t there be something for him to pop that’ll magically help him remember what happened? Somebody ought to get on that.

After landing in Milwaukee, the night wears on and his performance is less than stellar. Eddie is emotionally drained yet determined to try once more, but his call remains ignored.

Eddie continues to be unable to recollect what happened because you took it home with you, every single second of it.

The long-awaited midwestern tour dates had finally arrived. You were mailed a VIP pass, presumably by Mo because it didn’t come with a poetic note like the heartfelt gifts usually did. You went to the venue and watched from a reserved balcony suite, away from the hoards of sweaty denim-clad men and braless women who’d thrown their undergarments on the stage.

You knew it was Eddie up there, but he was performing like you’d never seen. The cockiness in his stage presence was unrecognizable. He’d improved immensely over the months spent on the road, and you were genuinely impressed.

After the show, you waited for the crowd to thin out, which gave you time to gather yourself. You hoped to god that he wouldn’t notice you’d put on ten pounds since you saw each other last. But he’s around models all the time, surely he’d notice.

You wandered around trying to find the entrance to the backstage area and finally stumbled upon a sturdy security guard. You explained that you had a pass but you didn’t know where to go. Luckily, he did. He escorted you behind the barricade and down a series of dark corridors.

A fast-paced beat accompanied by laughing and crashing poured from the open door down the hall. It only made you more nervous, realizing that there were quite a few people there. You imagined this moment of reuniting being private, so you tried to prepare yourself on such short notice.

Before you was the sight of a lively party. Red plastic cups and glass bottles littered the various surfaces and groupies lingered around in their tiny black leather skirts and skin-tight tops.

Todd appeared in front of you, seemingly out of nowhere. He was unbelievably inebriated and it took him a second to recognize you. Once he did, his expression shifted from disorientation to elatement. “Well, well, well. Look what we have here,” he said to you and then called out into the room. “Ed, come check this shit out!”

Todd disappeared after Eddie stumbled up behind him. You were taken aback by his ratty, knotted hair and the sleepy purple at the inner corners of his eyes. Straight away, the odors of alcohol, tobacco, and weed made their presence known. Just by the looks of him, there was no telling how long it had been since he slept last. It wasn’t recently, that was plain to see.

In a piss-poor posh accent, Eddie slurred, “Sweetheart! What a positively splendid surprise,” he harshly rubbed the underside of his nose with the back of his hand. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Surprise?” you assessed his wobbly stance. “Are you trashed right now?”

Eddie giggled like a mischievous child. “Who’s trashed? Not me,” he looked back into the party and watched as Todd jumped on the coffee table, banged his chest like a gorilla, and chugged a bottle of beer. Eddie cheered him on and then turned back to you. His laughter tapered off as he redirected his attention. “What’re we talkin’ about?”

“You forgot,” your voice cracked from the pressure that built in your throat. “You fucking forgot that I was coming.”

“I didn’t forget,” he defensively insisted. “It just slipped my mind,” Eddie blinked slowly and momentarily lost his balance, though he caught himself on the door frame. “Whoopsie daisy,” he snorted.

“What’s gotten into you?” you crossed your arms and gave yourself the hug that he failed to. “It’s like you’re a completely different person.”

“You’re damn right I am. I said sayonara to the old, lame-ass Eddie and I’m living the life I’ve always wanted. I’ve got all these people who actually get me, y’know? I’ve never had that before,” Eddie’s eyes closed entirely while he paused. “It’s awesome.”

“I don’t understand,” Tears trickled down your cheeks. “You’re making it sound like I’ve been holding you back,” It was the way that he was looking right through you and couldn’t see the comatose love in your eyes, that's what hurt the most.

“Eddd,” A woman sang out and appeared beside him. She hung off of his arm and nearly yanked him to the floor.

He steadied himself, his only priority was staying upright. “Ah, speaking of people. Babe, this is my friend…” Eddie looked over at her lazily.

“Cherry,” She grinned, equally as uncoordinated and woozy as he was. “I’m Cherry.”

“Right, yeah,” he sucked in a breath and looked back at you. “She’s cool. You should come in and talk makeup with her or something,” Eddie beamed as if that was the most brilliant idea he’d had all week.

It was then that you noticed the crimson wax smeared across the column of his throat. Identical in color to the one that was all over her lips, chin, and teeth. “It looks like you already have,” your stomach churned and the tears fell faster. “Try to listen closely, okay? Do not call me and don’t bother writing either,” With nimble fingers, you tore Eddie’s chain from around your neck, snapping the clasp, and threw it at his feet. “Fuck you.”

As you turned and made your way back down the dark tunnel, you could hear him calling your name as it echoed off of the walls. Once you rounded the corner, you couldn’t take it anymore. You coughed wetly and had to brace against the wall from your legs giving out. The weight of cinder blocks being stacked on your chest intensified while you sat on the cold concrete ground. It was as though he stomped your heart out like a singed cigarette thrown to pavement.

“What’s her problem?” Cherry squeaked, taking notice of how she was only wearing one heel and her skirt had ridden up to her waist somehow.

“Beats me,” Eddie shrugged.

If he was in his right mind, the sharp pieces of his shattered heart would have punctured his lungs; he wouldn’t have had a fighting chance at taking another breath. But Eddie was far from sober, and his organs were floating around like he was a human lava lamp. As you disappeared into the shadows, his mind was nothing short of blank and he went on with his evening like you’d never even shown.

The mention of Eddie’s name or the band no longer brings a smile to your face. It fills you with the sorrow that has replaced the pride you once felt for him. You long for the sound of pouring rain, hoping that it’ll drown out the repetitive radio hits that loop in your head. Even if your wishes are granted, you know it can’t rain forever and the clouds will disperse.

Just as you suspected, rainfall never sufficed. Thankfully, the much-awaited chill has finally arrived. Winter quietly falls, bringing icy roads and frozen windows with it. This season feels more appropriate, autumn was too vibrant with its spiced aromas and scenic landscapes. It was too full of life and you craved a desolate, bitter, unbearable distraction.

You’ve nearly mastered denying him access to your train of thought, but whether it be a song or otherwise, it all comes rushing back. Tonight is sleepless, and you find yourself wondering where it all went wrong.

The photo in your hands, of the two of you flashing your pair of plane tickets, makes you cry. Your emotion in the snapshot is genuine, but Eddie’s expression imitates enthusiasm. He used to be so camera-shy and he would resist your pleas until you successfully wore him down. These days, he’s doing half-naked photo shoots, sporting leather pants that leave little to the imagination.

Shadow appears to sense that you’re hurting and in contrast to her usual aloofness, she joins you on the bed. You watch her knead the blankets and curl up beside you. It only makes you cry harder and you’re afraid of driving her away with your pathetic wailing.

You had a rather eventful day, to say the least. Gareth came to collect your ex’s belongings. Gareth is the only person that he’s stayed in contact with since ditching Hawkins.

Not having his stuff around has significantly lightened the atmosphere, but the space feels emptier. Regardless, this is a fresh start. You don’t need Eddie, you have people who care about you. Gareth included because while he’s primarily Eddie’s friend, you’ve gotten to know each other over time. He offered a sympathetic hug before leaving with the backseat of his car packed with boxes. 

Having some company, even briefly, was a welcome change from your day-to-day. Your social interactions have been limited. At most, it’s occasional small talk about the weather with coworkers and chatting with your elderly neighbor. Honestly, you prefer talking to Shadow because her meows are free of pity.

When you knocked on Mrs. Folley’s door to ask for a spare roll of paper towels, she took notice of your underfed and fatigued appearance. Without prying, she began preparing dinners for you. Every night at 6:10 PM there’s a faint knock on your front door. “375 degrees for 25 minutes,” she reminds you.

The casserole dishes are piling up in your kitchen sink, but you’re too apathetic to do as much as soak them. They’d soak forever. While you appreciate her selflessness, she’s making it awfully difficult for you to cut yourself off from the outside world. Leaving the house has become quite a daunting task because you have to go to great lengths to avoid places that remind you of him. You’ve even started shopping at a different grocery store. He has tainted just about everything, everywhere.

Eddie was only able to gather bits and pieces from his bandmates. None of their accounts were particularly reliable. Some recollections conflict, and some overlap. He’ll never know exactly what happened, but what he does know is that he fucked up severely.

Initially, he put on a mask of stoicism and attempted to channel his grief into the music-making process. The words just wouldn’t come to him. It was like Eddie had been zapped dry of any inspiration, understandably so, since he lost his muse. Plus, it proved to be far more agonizing than he anticipated. Eddie was tearing open a wound that hadn’t had the chance to heal. It was too late, the infection already spread and his sense of pride had long since eroded.

In defiance of how he truly feels, Eddie has been pretending that he’s on top of the world, in complete denial of how it’s engulfed in a blaze. He tries to convince himself that you were nothing but dead weight that would hold him back. But if that’s the case, why is he so willing to let you?

Just like an anchor, he’d beg you to pull him down, down, down. He’s willing to fill his lungs to the brim with salt water as you take him to the deepest depths. Eddie would much rather be in that darkness with you than be alone in this one. He’d rather drown than be freed of such a burden.

He’s been a walking Molotov with his vodka-soaked brain and a cigarette burning between his cracked lips. Salty teardrops saturate each puff of smoke, the haze carrying his remorse a brief distance before dissipating into the air. It’ll never travel far enough to reach you.

One might assume that he considers himself one lucky son of a bitch for the life that he’s leading. But, Eddie would vehemently dismiss such an assumption. The only thing he considers himself lucky for is having had the opportunity to experience what it felt like to be loved by you.

Your bodies moved in harmony, an irreproducible duet that was sung as you stroked one another’s chords. Together, you basked in the amorous afterglow. That glimmer in your eyes is a melody that replays in his mind, undeterred by the other tunes he attempts to distract himself with.

On occasion, there’s a nameless woman at the foot of his bed seductively undressing herself. They put on a show for a brick wall, a shell of a man. The distant wail of police sirens outside acts as a soundtrack for their musicless performances. He remains eerily still, looking past the sun-tanned demons that dance in hopes of earning his affection.

All it takes is hearing “I want you,” and he grants them access to his room. He never even looks at them and his thousand-yard stare is continuous. You were the closest thing to heaven that he’ll ever experience and the nearest he’ll get to those so-called golden gates. Eddie has been deemed unfit and here he lies, condemned to his personalized hell; a bottomless pit of sinful indulgence and temptation. 

Haunted. You’re a bedroom ghost no matter where he rests his head. The sheets are icy regardless of how many femme figures are woven beneath them. He kisses strangers when he can’t feel his face, uncertain if his lips are even in motion.

Eddie will continue to feel utterly alone until he hears the familiar jingling of your keys as you get home from work. It’ll take the creak of the door hinges and Shadow leaping from his lap to greet you for Eddie to regain a scrap of sanity.

He used to bleed, but now all that his heart pumps is whatever earthy intoxicant he can find. Most of the time, he’s merely a pile of bones splayed out on a sunken mattress in his hotel room. The low-hanging night sky on the inside of his eyelids is moonless. The rise and fall of his chest are shallow like a lost tide.

Tonight he finds himself in room 918 and this one is just as stale as the last. The window is sealed tight, keeping the humid misery contained within the well-furnished jail cell. The blinds are closed and the damn clock won’t stop taunting him, it’s maddening. Eddie snatches it up, swings the door to his room open, chucks it down the hall, and slams the door shut.

He swallowed his pride four shots ago, toasting both his international success and being a colossal fuck up. Your absence always kills his buzz and it’s as though he can’t get drunk enough. On top of that, the memories burn worse than any liquor money can buy.

Your tender embrace used to keep him snug. Now, he’s chilled to the bone, shivering relentlessly. His only source of warmth stems from the alcohol streaming through his veins. Lying on his back, he stares at the stained ceiling. The faces in the plaster mock him mercilessly with insults and ill wishes. The pooling tears do nothing to quell his smoke-stung eyes.

Some might assume that given the quantity, Eddie is chasing numbness. That’s far from the truth. Numbness doesn’t cut it, because even though he can no longer feel the hollowness, the clouded guilt still looms over him. It’s not about defying gravity, it’s about strengthening it. Eddie wants the draw to be so strong that it sucks him beneath the Earth’s surface where he can rot like he deserves.

Down for the count and despite his best efforts, the memories remain vivid. Eddie remembers the manner in which you said his name early in the morning, well past bedtime, while you lament, and uttering between bouts of laughter. It was always the sweetest sound.

You saw each other as delectable and at times, you were insatiable. One night in particular, the two of you didn’t even make it past the kitchen. Eddie, behaving like a man starved, laid you out on the dining table. He devoured you with his face buried between your legs and you reminded him that it’s impolite to talk with his mouth full.

Eddie wishes he could roll over, nuzzle his face between your shoulder blades, and fall asleep forever. It’s quite the dream, even for a notorious dreamer. He doesn’t want to wake up tomorrow morning. What does it matter anyway? 

Amid the ever-shifting cityscapes, it’s not like he can keep up. Eddie can’t tell dusk from dawn, even with the glare of the neon lights permeating his vision. The evenings are restless, and he wakes with a bloodied nose and hellish bruises.

He’s throwing back a glass at five to nine in the morning and resorting to the simultaneous ingestion of uppers and downers. A little bit of this, a lot of that. Eddie has become something of a mixologist with his experimental cocktails. You see, he’s on a quest to find a middle ground. One where he appears alive while remaining detached enough to elude the grasp of agony.

On the days when the sun shines just right and hope makes a rare appearance, Eddie attempts to go cold turkey. Shakes and sweats take hold and he can’t endure it for long. Detoxing leaves him high on misery, an unbearable feeling. Hours later, he finds himself at the bar, wetting his desert-dry tongue with the most expensive bottle he can get his greedy hands on.

Under the blazing stage lights, with blistering pyrotechnics threatening to engulf him, he stumbles through the setlist. Two weeks ago, they stopped having him play live. In lieu, a pre-recorded track is pumped through the speakers, creating the illusion of his pick striking the strings.

Throughout every performance, he scans the crowd for your radiant face. It proves fruitless in every city, but he continues to search. Eddie doesn't even have your last words to hold on to, only endless possibilities of what he can imagine you said to him. 

During the sound check for the Portland show, Bobby warily approaches Eddie, who is already drunk and it isn’t even three o’clock yet. He means well, but his approach is less than nurturing. “You don’t have to go down this road, Ed,” he cautioned. “I’ve seen where it leads and it’s not pretty.”

Eddie sways slightly as he turns to face him. “Don't lecture me like you're some kind of saint,” he retorts with the scent of booze fiery on his breath. “I'll drink when I want, where I want, and however much I want. Got it?”

With his hand extended in concern, Bobby tries to remain level-headed. “I can get you in touch with somebody if need be, there’s no shame in gettin’ your shit together.”

Eddie throws his head back with a dismissive scoff. “Get my shit together? I lost my girl, okay? She left me. So if you could just mind your own fucking business that’d be great,” he turns away and takes a seat on an equipment case. “Besides, badasses don’t need shrinks.”

Bobby leans in and lowers his voice. "You're messin’ with the same demons that dragged Nick down. Don't think they'll treat you any differently."

“Don’t compare me to him. That dude was messing with heroin and shit. This is entirely different and I can hold my own, thank you very much.” “You gotta get that ego of yours in check, man. That’s what fucked you over in the first place. I know you think that you can handle it, but let me tell you somethin’,” Bobby stares at Eddie intensely. “Nick thought the same thing and look where that got him. Alls I’m tryna say is that you need to watch your step. You’re pissin’ away your potential and it’s startin’ to piss me off.”

“Last I checked, it’s not exactly difficult to push your buttons. Honest to god, you're blowing this way out of proportion. If I need advice, I'll ask for it. Until then, back the fuck off,” Eddie returns Bobby’s stare with a taut posture.

Nick Karr’s destructive coping mechanism landed him in the hospital and eventually in rehab. Eddie knows that some artists resort to heroin because it’s accessible and incredibly potent, which sounds magical to him. But, when it’s offered, he declines. Hearing Nikki Sixx recount his own experience from last year when he was pronounced dead for two minutes was enough to deter Eddie. It sent a shiver down his spine. The firsthand account effectively kept him from venturing that path.

He didn’t have to choose that road to get there, though. Nowadays, he’s so frail that the slightest gust of wind could pick him up and carry him away. His cheeks are sunken, his eyes puffy. Eddie has been taking it on the chin, earning himself a split lip, and the works. He’s been arrested three times and overdosed twice. The only thing he hasn’t done yet is die.

Eddie knows that he’ll never have the chance to see you again in this lifetime, he lost that privilege. However, he entertains the thought that if the drugs were to claim him, perhaps he might find you in another realm. In an alternate place, he’ll vow to wait patiently until he can finally give you his long-awaited apology. It’s always the legends who die young, right? There’s gotta be a sliver of honor in this for him.

Eddie’s flesh is devoid of its usual pinkness, as though he’s just crawled off of an embalming table. His skin is covered with chicken scratch tattoos that he has no recollection of getting and his brittle vertebrae can no longer support the weight of his heavy heart. He finds himself on a cliff and the edge is razor-thin, extending into oblivion in either direction. His legs are dangling over the abyss and there’s no breeze, only profound stillness.

Presently slumped against the wall of this room, his clothes are soaked with sweat. The shaggy carpet feels coarse and chillingly damp, like freshly unearthed sand between his toes. The room’s shadows are disjointed and they dance menacingly as he struggles to make sense of his surroundings. Each heartbeat feels like a sledgehammer striking his ribs, demolishing them one by one. In this moment, Eddie is confronting the harsh reality of the detrimental choices he’s made, the resulting consequences, and the impending end he now faces.

Thrash, shudder, collapse. His internal record player skips and cries out before coming to a halt. His somber soundtrack ceases and the cavern of his chest no longer has a tune to echo.

Prior to his admittance into Pacific Hills Recovery Center, Eddie’s contract was set in stone. Even so, Mo was able to pull some strings which allowed him to be excused from his legal obligations.

His initial impression of the place was far from favorable. Eddie felt like he was stepping into a looney bin, surrounded by people who were nothing like him. His self-esteem took a severe hit, but he still believed that he was above seeking professional help. Eddie was incredibly stubborn at first and fought himself tooth and nail.

It was a struggle to take accountability for his situation. He didn’t want to admit that he was the one responsible. But, Eddie could no longer claim that there was some curse that got him, nor could he blame the industry or the lifestyle. He couldn’t point his finger at Todd for showing him the ropes of the fast life or at Gareth for giving his contact information to Mo.

The first few weeks were unforgiving and the pale blue walls of the facility made him feel uneasy. All of it was off-putting, especially the sunlight pouring through the tall, squeegeed windows. Eddie’s bed was relatively comfortable, and his sheets were always clean. He started to put on weight thanks to a balanced diet, and he was eating the healthiest he ever had in his life.

With time, the dense fog in his head has significantly thinned. However, it’s difficult to resist the itch to stroll down the street and undo all of his progress. He hasn’t caved and he intends on keeping it that way, partly because he doesn’t want to stay here longer than absolutely necessary.

It’s as boring as white bread in a place like this, but he tries to convince himself that it’s good for him, that’s what he’s been sold. The monotony gives him a sense of stability and routine, things he lost the capability to form on his own. If this place were a food, it would be plain oatmeal. Speaking of which, Eddie is tired of eating old-fashioned oats for breakfast. Once he’s finished with treatment, he swears to never going to eat another spoonful again.

In addition to feeling incredibly out of place and out of sorts, he’s very strategic in keeping his guard up. He can’t risk having his vulnerability tampered with before he can suture himself. Whenever someone tries to talk to him, he doesn’t give them much to work with. Eddie has sworn off eye contact and he tries to escape conversations with whatever convincing excuse he can conjure.

The other patients are okay, all things considered. The worst ones are wealthy snobs who have god complexes and act like entitled pricks. Eddie steers clear of them and he hasn’t made any friends in the three months that he’s been here. Bobby calls sometimes, and Eddie occasionally reaches out to Gareth, but it’s never more than small talk.

Except for that one call where Gareth mentioned having boxes of his belongings, waiting to be claimed by their rightful owner. That was a conversation that brought Eddie to tears. It doesn’t take a genius to know that there’s a good reason why you’ve shut him out. But hearing that you packed up his things and removed those crumbs from your life just about killed him. Eddie skipped dinner that night, curled up in a chair beside the large stone fireplace, and wept silently.

Along with processing how much that hurt him, he realized that it meant he no longer had a home. In-patient care certainly isn’t permanent housing. He stressed himself out at the thought because even though Gareth was likely going to allow him to crash on his couch, Eddie was afraid to live near you again. What would he do if you ran into each other? Would you cuss him out and slap him? He’d take it if you did, he owed you that much.

Eddie surely doesn’t want to stay on the coast. As cool as LA can be, it’s not where his heart is. Sure, he figured out how to run the scene pretty easily, but he doesn’t belong here. Before all of this, Eddie could only dream of how tall the palm trees were, he tried to imagine what the ocean would smell like. Now he’s sick of it, he wants to go back to the forests of evergreen and sugar maple. Eddie misses the murky water of Lover’s Lake where the mosquitoes ate him alive.

Having been bled dry of the things that kept him sedated for so long, his state of mind is feeble. His counselor emphasized that he isn’t confined to a predetermined path and that he’s only destined to be what he makes of himself. Eddie was provided some coping mechanisms and he says that they aren’t helping, but that’s because he isn’t really trying.

As part of getting in touch with his feelings, Eddie is tasked with writing letters to his past, present, and future self. This exercise hasn’t been trouble-free  because he finds himself wanting to write to you. One night, he gets so strung out after scribbling a particularly tense letter to himself that he can no longer resist the urge.

His wrist aches from scrapping draft after draft, his bedroom floor littered with crumpled balls of stationary paper. His sober mind cruelly insists that his actions are irreparable and that no words will bring you back. It tells him that he sounds desperate and you’d either burn the letters or return them entirely unopened. Perhaps you’d even find some hilarity in his sorry excuses.

I’ve grown for you, and for me too

I lost all sight of myself when it came to ambition, but I’m striving for realistic things now. I'm trying to right my wrongs

Are you still   How have you been?  I wish I could see you

I understand if you’re disappointed in me, I am too

Has Shadow caught any spiders lately?

I hope you’re doing well

Eddie misses you senselessly, but he knows that he’s unworthy. He’s homesick for arms that will never hold him again. It would’ve been wise to be careful what he wished for because he got every last bit and then some. He used to believe his name was meant to be in lights, but now he sees how naive that was. Life had to take a bite out of Eddie for him to realize that his true aspiration was to be an honorable man, one that put you above all else.

His sense of purpose is long gone. Eddie hopes that the universe might present him with the opportunity to see your beautiful face once more. It’s wishful thinking, but these days, it’s all he has. It’s okay to be unsure of what’s next, what matters is that he’s taking it one day at a time. He’s finally setting goals for himself and Eddie is committed to not wasting another day. The words he never got the chance to say have soured his tongue and he wants so badly to spit them out.

As It turns out, it’s just as easy to get hooked on making progress. The Westminster chimes play from the wooden clock in the sunroom, signaling the start of a new day. Eddie fills a plain mug with piping renewal, stirring in a dash of sugar.

Your days start similarly, relying on a cup of coffee to get you through. Lately, it feels like the bed was only ever yours and it never knew the weight of someone else. You stopped wondering what he was doing or where he was. It’s a beautiful thing, to be on your own. You chide yourself for being so childish in thinking that things would’ve worked out somehow.

The day he signed that contract, he was no longer yours.

The runaway leaves are toasting in the suspended autumn sunlight, readying to decompose at Mother Nature’s mercy. The trees stand bare, the sidewalks covered with a brittle quilt of orange, red, and brown. The pumpkin festival is a cherished annual event in town, serving as a fundraiser for the local food shelter.

The fair is known for its crop competition where impressive pumpkins are awarded ribbons for being monstrous in size. Hand-built shacks are selling hot cider and freshly fried cinnamon sugar donuts. With a few hundred attendees, the grinding amusement rides struggle to overpower the chatter.

The cozy outfit you’ve chosen is your favorite cotton crew neck sweater paired with jeans and sneakers that provide optimal comfort. Tonight is about savoring the weather and unwinding. You’re looking forward to seeing Gareth and the band play, even though they’ll be missing their former frontman.

Steve is equally as eager to get out and about, especially because he’s babysitting his spirited four-year-old nephew, Daniel, for the weekend. He’s always cranked up to a ten and this was something that Steve was not emotionally prepared to handle. He’s hoping that the lively atmosphere will tire the little one out and give him a chance to breathe.

The knit blanket is unrolled; its chestnut, fern, and sunflower-hued threads contrast the lush grass it’s draped upon. As you settle, the buried leaves crunch beneath your weight.

Steve looks over at you. “I swear I need a leash for this kid. I look away for two seconds and he disappears into thin air. Listen, I like a good magic trick as much as the next guy but this routine is getting real old, real fast,” he exhales exasperatedly. 

“Leave him here with me, you go take a walk and cool off,” You chuckle at how frazzled he is over “losing” his nephew for a whole two and a half minutes.

Steve runs his hand through his bangs and sighs. “Okay, yeah, a walk,” He isn’t a rookie when it comes to babysitting, but Daniel isn’t exactly in the age demographic that Steve is used to looking after.

Daniel’s pudgy hand is released and he dramatically plops on the blanket beside you, immediately engrossed with his toy truck. He bumbles his lips, mimicking the sound of an engine.

“Go,” you shoo Steve. “I’ve got it handled.”

Steve nods and turns to leave.

“And get me some cocoa on your way back!” You call out.

Steve acknowledges your request with a quick thumbs-up and weaves out of the clusters of people both seated and standing. To keep the rugrat engaged enough to prevent him from wandering off, you ask him about his toy.

Meanwhile, Eddie is taking deep breaths, trying to ignore his fierce nerves. It’s been a long time since he last performed but he shouldn’t be this nervous. He’s played for hundreds of thousands of people, yet this is just as intimidating. Fireworks are sparking off in his fingertips and a surge of nausea rocks him. Eddie finds himself swatting away insecurity and self-doubt, the bothersome buzzing distracting him from having confidence in his abilities.

Corroded Coffin gathers in a circle behind the white tarp-roofed stage. They exchange words of support and appreciation for finally performing together again. They break from their huddle, scale the steps one by one, and take their positions. Eddie’s eyes are glued to the mic stand, unable to look out into the audience. He fidgets with it, making unnecessary adjustments to keep his hands busy. It doesn’t help that he’s out of his element with the setlist being pop hits that people of all ages can enjoy.

As Gareth begins to loosen up his wrists and Donny does some last-minute tuning, Eddie is transported back to The Hideout. Back when he was humble and small-town, playing his heart out with his closest friends. Recalling how fun those times were eases his nerves a bit, remembering that he’s been forgiven.

His playing and singing are hesitant as he finds his footing but as the song progresses, Eddie rides the rhythm and it vitalizes him. A shared smile with Jeff fills him with gratitude, his voice flowing as smooth as caramel. He still feels vulnerable, because even if the people here don’t give a shit about his reputation, there’s still plenty of room to make an ass of himself.

It takes him three songs to muster the courage to look out. Instead of appreciating the sight of the flowing river, he surrenders to an old habit that’s dying hard. He scours the crowd for that once-familiar face.

It’s as though he’s just landed on concrete, the wind knocked clean out of him. Eddie isn’t entirely sure that his eyes aren’t broken. He could be hallucinating, except even on his most intoxicated nights, he never so much as believed he’d seen you, much less had to convince himself that you weren’t there.

A kind expression graces your face, one that sends him to cloud nine. He can’t be certain from this distance, but it doesn’t appear to be a scowl or a frown. You’re somewhat concealed behind a large family which is making it challenging for him to get a clear view of you. Still, he strains his eyes in an attempt to do so.

His focus is diverted when an elderly couple gracefully strolls up to the gap in front of the stage and begins to dance together. Just a few verses later, a father and his young daughter join in and they jump to the beat.

It’s like he’s on top of the world again and this time it’s not on fire. His sense of purpose is back and stronger than ever. His passion is bringing people together, including the two of you. He can feel the music in his bones. Eddie avoids lingering for too long, not wanting to appear as if he’s staring. Rest assured, wherever his sight falls, you’re the only thing on his mind.

As soon as the set concludes, Eddie hugs each of his friends, though he keeps it brief. His sneakers crush the dry patches of grass as he navigates through the crowd. Most are getting up to stretch or leaving to get refreshments before the next act goes on. Eddie finds you exactly where he saw you, but to his surprise, you’re holding the hand of a small child.

Promptly, a pang immobilizes him, the center of his chest acting as the bullseye of an axe-throwing target. He tries to grapple with his conflicting emotions. Eddie wants so badly to reconnect with you but he’s paralyzed by the fact that you’ve moved on and started a family. Of course you have, you deserve someone who checks in on you and gives you the world. He can’t be mad at you when he failed to provide what little you asked of him back then.

Eddie carefully approaches as you rise to your feet, the child tugging you up from your spot on the ground. In his head, he practices a gentle voice all while morphing his expression into one that’s good-natured and approachable. Beneath his facade, his heart is lodged in his throat. “Hey,” he greets you softly, “Who’s this little guy?”

Steve appears and lifts Daniel into his arms, balancing the toddler on his hip. “I’m glad to see he didn’t rip your beautiful hair out while I was gone,” he smirks at you, but it falters when he feels his nephew driving the toy car along his shoulder and uncomfortably close to his jugular.

“Me too,” you laugh tensely. Clasping your hands together, you rock on your heels to soothe yourself. “He was good the whole time, thankfully. “Anyway, Steve, this is-”

“Ed Munson, right?” he adjusts his wiggling nephew. “From Poison Knife or whatever?” Steve isn’t familiar with their music, but he’s heard about Eddie’s escapades through the media.

“Poison Blade, yeah. That’s me,” he offers a handshake and Steve is quick to return it, a bit too firmly for Eddie’s liking. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Steve assesses Eddie and doesn’t bother to hide his scrutiny.

The air has cooled significantly now that the sun has dipped past the horizon. You stretch your sleeves over your fists and the sudden chattering of your teeth reminds you that you’re missing something. “You didn’t get me cocoa?” 

When you pout at Steve, Eddie subconsciously flexes his fingers in frustration. He forgot how unfairly cute you are. He has an impulse to take matters into his own hands by wrapping his arms around you to provide the warmth you so preciously seek.

“Shit,” Steve’s eyes briefly close but they shoot back open when Daniel grabs a fistful of his roots. “Ouch, man. Ease up on the death grip, will ya?” Steve withdraws the sticky fingers from his hair. “My bad, I totally forgot.”

Eddie seizes the opportunity and blurts out a touch too eager, “I’ll get you some, if- if you want,” he offers.

Steve squints at Eddie, his dark brows furrowed at the strange vibe he’s getting; oblivious to your history. He doesn’t get the chance to question it further because Daniel begins to kick and squirm. “I’m gonna take him back over to the animals before he blows a fuse,” Steve leans in and asks under his breath, “You’ll be okay?”

You give him a reassuring look and squeeze his bicep in confirmation. Steve returns your nod, shoots Eddie a protective glance, and walks away with the now-hollering toddler.

With his eyes full of hope, Eddie grins invitingly and extends his offer, “How ‘bout it, hot cocoa on me?” He’s giving it his all to appear trustworthy and pleasant in the hopes of winning you over.

You look down at your shoes and release a visible breath. “Yes, please.”

Together, you walk toward the concession stands. Once you’ve got the foam cup of chocolatey goodness delightfully thawing your palms, the two of you find a bench along the river. It’s quieter here, away from the bustling noise. For a while, neither of you says a word. You just sip your beverage while the splashing current fills the silence.

Eddie looks over at you. “So, uh. You just got the one?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you just have the one kid, or…”

You make an effort not to spill your drink as you giggle.

“What’s so funny?” A thrum passes through him in the presence of your laughter, the sound he’s missed for so long.

You smile as you calm down to clarify, “Daniel isn’t mine. Thank God for that, ‘cause he's a royal pain in the ass.”

“I see,” Eddie chuckles airily, not out of humor but relief. “He does look like a handful.”

“Yeah, more like two,” You blow across the top of your cup, cautious not to burn your tongue while you take a swig.

Eddie looks down as he picks at his hangnails. “That being said, things are uh- good then, I hope?”

You focus on the darkening waters just feet away, contemplating whether you’d describe your life as ‘good.’ “I’d say so, nothing too eventful but it’s been comfortable. You?”

“Same here,” Eddie steals a glance at your fingers tapping against the styrofoam cup. “And I’m very much sober,” he adds pridefully. “11 months next week, actually.”

“Good for you!” you beam and nudge his knee with your own. “I’m so glad to hear that.”

Eddie hides his face behind his curls, concealing the blush and wide smile that are overtaking his features. He can’t blame the rosiness of his cheeks on the biting wind. “Thanks,” he returns the knee nudge. “It means a lot to hear that from you.”

“What exactly are you doing here? Don’t you have seats to fill?”

Eddie straightens his posture against the back of the bench. “Not anymore,” he weakly clears his throat, his voice faltering even though he’s talked this out in therapy numerous times. “I felt like it was time to come home, I needed to find myself,” Eddie’s voice wavers and he clears his throat harder this time. “It was really tough, y’know? I lost sight of what kept me sane. You were always this like, unshakeable foundation for me and I let you down.”

“Yeah, you did,” you exhale, “I was disappointed that you turned into everything that you said you wouldn’t. I can’t speak for you, but to me, what we had was real. I was willing to be with you forever, and you just- weren’t on the same page.”

That sour apology is burning a hole through Eddie’s tongue right now. He wants so badly to tell you that you’re wrong. But he chokes it down like he always has and listens to you express the things he’s dreaded yet dreamed of hearing.

“I tried so hard. Way harder than I should’ve, and now you’re here after I tried to forget everything. I wanted to forget you,” you confess and place your empty cup in the dirt at your feet. The loose gravel under your shoes shifts as you sit back.

Hearing those words nearly breaks Eddie’s dam, and he stifles a sob. Eddie faces away, appearing as though he’s watching the final moments of the sunset and not holding back tears. He twists his fingers, his knuckles cracking from the force.

You reach over to Eddie’s lap and take his hand into yours. He watches curiously through glassy vision while his ability to breathe normally has been disrupted. When you interlace your fingers, Eddie releases a shuddering breath that he’s held in for well over a year.

“It wasn’t worth it,” you use your free hand to trace the curves of his. “It was a waste of time trying to forget you.”

Somehow, Eddie finds himself looking into your stunning eyes and he feels like he’s melting for too many reasons to count. You’re softening him like butter to be used in making freshly baked pumpkin bread. When you reach up and wipe a stray tear from his cheek, he simply breaks. You welcome him into your embrace, wrapping your arms around him as he curls up into your shoulder.

The cry that escapes Eddie is rickety and long overdue. “I’m so s-sorry,” he stammers and inhales wetly. “I never meant to hurt you, but I did. I fucked everything up and-”

“Eddie,” you interrupt him, stroking his head and pushing the curtain of curls out of his face. He whimpers in response. “I’ll always be your number one fan, no matter what,” You guide him to meet your gaze.

When you cradle the side of his puffy face with your hand, Eddie leans into your touch. “Always?” He sniffles and his damp eyelashes tickle your thumb as you stroke his freckled cheeks. 

Your promise is as rich as the devotion resurfacing in his hazelnut eyes. “Always.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

★My Masterlist

tags:@nj01@tlclick73

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt no comfort #eddie munson hurt/comfort #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson fandom #stranger things au #eddie stranger things #eddie munson au #eddie x reader #stranger things eddie #corroded coffin #stranger things s4 #hawkins #hawkins indiana

[mmunson86]

STINK @purplehazed-h sound the alarm this is not a warning i repeat this is not a warning!

Ohh maa gaaawd i am unwell, all i keep thinking is

Rockstar Eddie X Lawyer Reader

Eddie is jealous of one of her colleagues, and he writes a song during one of his jealousy episodes he saw the way this colleague of hers hugged her outside of the courthouse where Eddie was waiting to pick her up in a private car to take her to party for the release of CC’s Rolling Stone cover🤯🫶🏻🤭

These are the lyrics of the song & video of Eddie during the debut of it🫠💗

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson canon #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #rockstar eddie munson x you #oli bmth #oli skyes #oliver sykes #eddie munson rockstar au

[mayaluvzyou]

Okay but just imagine Eddie eating you out right before a show for "good luck" 🤭🤭

He'll have you sitting on an old, busted up leather couch they keep backstage while he's on his knees in front of you, licking and sucking you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Despite how messy it is, that shit has you gripping the fucking couch, tearing up the arm of it even more.

The loud music from the other band playing cover up the borderline pornographic noises coming from both you and Eddie. Your moans, and the wet sounds of him licking at your folds, sucking your clit between his slick-covered lips as he curls two fingers into your sticky cunt in a way that has you practically screaming.

"So fuckin' good..." He'll mumble during a quick break for air, nearly moaning when he reconnects his tongue to your dripping pussy.

By the time you can feel the coil in your lower stomach start to tighten, Eddie's encouraging you to fucking drench his face with your juices.

"C'mon, I know you can do it. Cum on my face like a good girl, yeah?"

And when you finally do cum, he's talking you through it so sweetly like he isn't making you see stars.

"That's it, mhm.. So good for me.." while he's lapping at your release like a starved man.

Once you calm down from your orgasm, Eddie snatches your panties from where he had them pooled at your ankles, murmuring something like "for extra good luck," while he's stuffing them in the back pocket of his jeans.

#screaming rn because i need him so badly #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #stranger things blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson

[sofiiel]

Caught between two monstrous rockstars. Weaved between darkness and light. You may think you know your path, but do you? Will it be Frankenstein's Monster or Dracula? - Fic inspired by many classic horror movies/books.

Vampire!Eddie x Fem!Reader x Oc!010 | 18+ MDNI

Moodboards| Playlist | Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

"Am I a fly in your trap? Or could it be simply that your webs are nothing but the strings to a marionette heart?"

When you took over your late husband's label, you never imagined you'd weave your own horrific fairy tale. Top frontmen Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin and Pete Angel of Desecreffigy end up helping you out of a tight spot when threatened by a rival manager.

You find out that the artists under your label each have terrifying secrets and not only are their dreams in your hands, but their lives as well.

Wade through the shadows of a war of the underground and the blind affections of two bitter rivals.

"Starve me if you want, beautiful. I can feast with my eyes and still survive an eternity all the same."

Warnings: Blood. Gore. Violence. Angst. Dark romance. Love triangles. Eventual smut. Drugs. Drama. will add as needed.

A/N:

Sort of an AU of my fic There & Back Again. But long after the events of Stranger Things and without my OC Myrtle. Reader is taking her place as the love interest, as she enters the world of the rich and infamous.

Caught between two amorous rivals of the Black and Thrash metal worlds....who also happen to be more than mildly inhuman.

It might be terrible it might be good - I'll give you a Scooby snack for reading though.

#ITM Masterlist #vampire!eddie x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie x fem!reader #oc!010 x fem!reader #classic monsters au

[bbyhellfire]

rockstar!eddie keeping your photo taped to the back of his guitar. some pictures are sweet, like you making a heart with your hands or him kissing your cheek.

but most are not so innocent. you sticking your tongue to reveal a puddle of his cum. a close-up of your lips sucking on his thumb. his name written in your lipstick across your tits. even a sneaky one he took when you were riding him reverse cowgirl.

and without meaning to, those photos become a sort of litmus test for corroded coffin fans to brag about how close they were to the stage.

"i was close, i could see the pic. it's eddie doing a body shot. trust me i was right there!"

"no way, dude. i was at the vegas show. it's some chick in a hottub."

#eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie has me in a chokehold #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson headcanon #bbyhellfire

[caxde]

bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you and Eddie have just become a couple, you meet hellfire club, Wayne finally meets you, navigating your relationship with him and his little girl (6.8k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

a/n: thank you guys for the support, and thanks to the lovely @criesinlies for her help and motivation, this one is for u babe <3 part1 part2 part 3 (they can be read seperatly)

“As you feel the air collapse in your lungs, I’m gonna need a constitution saving throw from you, Tayr.” Eddie explains, as his voice changes into that dramatic tone he always uses when he’s in the middle of a session, pointing at Mike who is stunned and on the verge of having a meltdown. 

“Wha-Whaddumean the air collapses in my lungs?” He asks frantically, as he shuffles through papers, trying to find something that will get him out of this, his die on his hand, rattling anxiously. 

“Counterspell!” Will screams, his hand on reaching for Eddie, he just scoffs. 

“It’s not a spell.” His voice remains calm, not stopping the visual contact he had going on, enjoying the menacing aura he had going on, something he didn’t get to do as often now that most of the stories and voices he could do were the ones for bedtime so Lua would fall asleep. 

He enjoyed looking at the chaos that ensued at the table, how they all were chatting amongst themselves, trying to find a solution, something useful so Mike’s character wouldn't die. 

Eddie hears the soft knocks on the door, his eyebrows raise a bit as he looks over at the trailer. The kids were around the table, buried deep with character sheets and spell cards, Max and El were on the living room floor drawing and colouring with Lua, Steve and Robin weren’t supposed to come pick them up for another forty minutes and uncle Wayne had yet to come back from work. 

He made his way to the front door, excusing himself from his usual DM spot, Dustin nodding in understanding, a curious look on his face as he looked over at him, and who could be behind the door. 

You had left work a bit earlier, for once they actually respected your work hours, and understood that if you started your shift at ten in the morning, you shouldn’t stay past six in the afternoon. So for once, you were back in the trailer park beforehalf past, and lucky for you, you caught some pastries they wanted to throw out, they said they were too old to sell, but you had baked them yesterday night, so you knew for a fact the blueberry muffins that where Lua’s favourite and the Cinnamon rolls that Eddie liked were good to take. 

So, there you were, your work clothes still on, and a little cardboard box in your hands. 

You looked up at him, as soon as he opened the door and his head tilted ever so slightly to the right, your lips were already curving upwards as you made eye contact with him. His eyes melting a bit at the sight of you, he made a step back, letting you in. 

You didn’t really have any reason to be alert, you were just happy to see him, and excited to do so, even if the nerves of the dinner you had in a couple hours were starting to manifest in your body, you paid them no mind. Instead, you pointed your feet up, the distance between both of your bodies closing, a small peck left on his lips from yours. He smiled as he always does when you kiss him. 

You realised right there that something strange was going on, when the usual noise that rummaged through his trailer was gone. Even worse, the noise you had heard from the other side of the door had ceased, you pulled away, not too far for that matter, your body still a breath away from his, his hand resting on your waist. 

“Got out of work earlier, they gave me some sweets… I thought maybe Lua..” That’s when you realised that he wasn’t exactly alone. 

There was a group of kids sitting around a table, their eyes about to pop out of their heads, mouths opened in shock, whilst Lua was in the company of two girls. You recognized the red head, Max lived a couple trailers down from you, she always had some kind words to say about your outfit, and you had helped her a couple of times when her mom was away and her washing machine was making the same funny sound as yours did. 

She was the one that seemed more shocked out of them all, standing up in one swift movement as Lua clocked that you were there. Her usual gigle as a greeting as she started walking clumsily to your feet, her arms opened for you to hug her. Eddie gave you the same nod he always did, as he took a step further from you and took the little box with sweets out of your hands. It always happened when Lua wanted attention from you, you looked over at Eddie a ‘is this okay? can i hold her?’ look he had become used to, and that he absolutely adored. 

“Princess!” Lua cheered as she wrapped her arms lazily on the back of your neck, Eddie had told you about the whole princess accident, and you had become somehow warmed up about the nickname that she had gifted you. You pulled her in a warm hug. 

“Hi dude, you doing okay?” You asked, your voice higher in pitch as it always did when you talked to her. 

“Yeah. Friends over!” She pointed out to the two girls that remained silent on the floor, her mouth still slightly opened. 

“Eddie you rat!” Max broke the silence, the cascade of comments starting to flow as the kids were coming out of shock. “I live right next to you, how did I not know!” She continued, you looked at her, a bit afraid of her if you were being honest. Her hard tone contradicts with her wide smile. 

“Is she your girlfriend?” One of the boys asked from the table, his tan skin made his blue shirt pop, just as much as his question did. Making you both blush in a similar way, looking at each other, Lua looking between the both of you, still on your arms. 

“She’s dada’s princess.” She explains, as best as she could, her sweet words making you chuckle, as Eddie took her from your arms, pulling her in a soft embrace. 

“Yes, and she got you a snack, d’you want some?” Eddie rattled the box, and Lua’s eyes widened as she cheered. 

The chattering continued as you sort of stood in the middle of the room, not sure where to go to, or what to do now. 

“How did he get you to agree to go out with him?” A boy with curly hair half covered with a cap that had some writing you couldn’t quite read spoke, an incredulous tone evident by the way his face looked, a raised eyebrow following his question. 

“It wasn’t that hard, really… he just… asked?” You could hear Eddie laughing from the kitchen, the sound of it making your shoulders relax, you weren’t used to that much attention. 

“Unbelievable, I should have been asking Eddie the Freak Munson for girl advice, not King Steve… who would have known.” The same boy replayed, you caught the same dramatic voice and flare you had caught on Eddie a few times, it made you chuckle. 

“Eddie the Freak?” You questioned, more to yourself than to anyone else, as you took a step closer to the table.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a big nerd, even bigger when he was in High School.” Max was the one talking now, teasing him as Eddie walked out the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. 

Lua was walking with a plastic plate on her hand, half of the muffin on it. She was trying really carefully to not drop it, concentrating on finding her way to the couch. 

“Hey, enough teasing the one that’s housing you, ‘kay?” That was an expression you still haven’t seen or heard in Eddie. His head tilted to the left, his hair falling a bit in front of his face, his eyes wider before he closed them a bit, his lips pressing against each other. Eddie was embarrassed, and didn’t really know how to manage it. 

“Yeah, we’re literally in the middle of a campaign.” The boy with the black hair and arched nose points out frantically gesturing at the board on top of the table. “I might be dying!” Urgency comes back into his voice, and you can see the way Eddie tries to mask a laugh, his hand hiding his smile, only growing when he makes eye contact with you. 

“Well, at least someone kisses her girlfriend.” The girl that was beside Max and had been quiet spoke out, a spec of hurt in her voice. Her words made the boy that was somehow about to die shake his head in disbelief at her, while Max and the two other boys that had spoken chuckle. The boy that hadn’t spoken yet looked at the dying boy longley. 

Eddie enjoyed the teasing when it wasn’t focused on him, so he let out a chuckle as soon as she heard how El teased Mike back for not being as affectionate as he was. Then again, Eddie was aware that he was highly affectionate, and even now, not being next to you, or holding your hand was a weird feeling now that he could call you his girlfriend. 

Maybe that’s why he uses the small moment where they were chuckling and quietly teasing Mike to walk over you, his hand finally resting on the small of your back, where it fits in a perfect way, the small touch reassuring you in a way you didn’t think possible. Your head spins to look at him, his eyes half closed when they meet yours, he can’t help but leave a small kiss on your forehead. And you can’t help but rest your head on his chest as soon as he breaks the tiny kiss. 

“Okay, roll call or they won’t stop looking at us weird.” Eddie half jokes as he speaks up, you just enjoy the way his chest vibrates when he talks, for a moment you let yourself daydreaming of the day you get to sleep with him as close as you were now. “You know Max.” You nod as the red haired girl looks up at you again, before sitting down back on the floor. “That’s El” The one that had teased the other boy about kissing mouthed a silent hi, her eyebrows slightly raised “She also goes by Jane.” Eddie turns to your ear, whispering it to you. 

“Dustin, Henderson. Though right now I’m Nog.” The boy with the curled covered hair spoke next, he seemed excited to meet you, his smile was contagious. 

“Uh… Okay?” You weren’t exactly sure what he meant with right now, and you had a habit of not masking your emotions, so your face could be read like a poem, your eyebrows raised in misunderstanding and confusion. 

“She doesn’t know about D&D?” The boy that was supposedly dying erupted again, and you heard Eddie audibly roll his eyes. 

“It doesn’t matter.”The guy next to him talked, though he almost cut him off, frustration on his voice, the rest of the party scoffed and tried to hide a chuckle “I’m Will, or Will the Wise. He’s Mike, or Tayr in this case.” He pointed to them both, you nodded, trying hard to remember everyone’s names. 

“I’m Lucas or Sundar the Bold, also Max’s sometimes boyfriend.” He tries to charm the girl who just rolls her eyes as she shakes her head. Even if you clock a soft curving of her lips. 

You smile to yourself, trying to hold as much information as you can. 

“Do you also have a second name?” 

Eddie laughs, as he pushes a little hair away from his face, tucking it away nicely under his ear. 

“No, I uh… I’m the, uh… Dungeon Master.” 

“What’s-”

Luckily for Eddie, Steve walked in at that moment. Robin followed him closely. Giving him another moment of quietness and self reflection as they walked inside, observing the scene as they did.

He had never been embarrassed about playing, or anything of that matter, but for some stupid reason that he wasn’t sure of, he felt just that seeing you in his space when he was not expecting it. He wasn’t prepared, for you to see him actively nerding out, even worse, when the stakes at the table were as high. 

“I think we got here a bit early, Steve.” Robin pointed out, her voice doing that sing along tone that you found charming. Lua waved at them from the couch where she was still enjoying her little treat. The reason you were here after all. 

“Oh, shi-” Eddie glared down at him before he could finish the sentence, a quick nod to the little girl listening in. “You’re one to talk.” 

“You are!” Dustin halved screamed from his chair, an accusatory finger pointing at him. “You’re the one giving out girl advice, while Eddie somehow managed to find a respectfully hot girl to go out with him.” You can’t help but giggle at the way he said respectfully, his mouth enunciating every syllable of the word while he looked at you in an apologetic way. 

Eddie blushed harder, the palm of his hand hitting his forehead. The vein on his neck grows larger every second. Unlucky for him, and due to the fact that he was far too distracted, he missed the look on your face when you caught that, the half second where the image of Eddie biting his lower lip trying to hide a cocky smile as his vein pulsed had made your thighs clench, and your eyes darken. 

“Henderson’s right, Steve” Robin added in her teasing tone, her words felt like they had an extra space written in between them. “That’s another point on the you suck table.” For some reason that you didn’t understand, that snarky comment made them all laugh, an inside joke you hope to understand someday. 

“I uh… should go back to my trailer.” You point to the opened door with your head, your hand now was somehow tangled with Eddie’s. 

“You can stay.” He pleas with a sweet soft voice, like honey to your ears. His eyes looking down at you, somehow becoming doe-like. 

“I would, but I need to make dinner for four.” You remind him as you wink. A lovesick smile appears on his lips once again, forgetting that he was surrounded by people that will tease him as soon as you’re gone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked, come whenever.” 

He stands there for a moment, knowing full well that their friends are talking to him, teasing him relentlessly, but he doesn’t really care, he’s too focused on seeing the way your body moves, and how even your steps reflect how happy you feel. 

-

“I thought she was coming over here.” Wayne pointed out, standing against the bathroom door, looking over Eddie's shoulder, as he brushed out Lua’s recently clean hair. 

“She was, but she wanted to host, said she’d feel more comfortable.” Eddie explained, not really focusing on what he was saying, more centered in the job he was doing. He had an experience with curly hair, and knew just how much care it needed, and how much he hated detangling it when he himself was a kid. “I’ll be done in a second, bug.” He tried to reassure her, her hands pushing him away. 

“Right.” Eddie wasn’t expecting much words out of his uncle, but he was still a bit anxious, and he wasn’t really sure he knew why. “You should shower, I’ll change Lua.” He told him, as he grabbed Lua in a soft embrace. 

That’s when Eddie realised he had been anxiously brushing his daughter’s hair for the last fifteen minutes. 

And that he probably just needed a second, a moment or a minute just for himself. 

 Turns out, silence can also be an overwhelming sound. 

For Eddie, silence was the time his thoughts gained free raign on his brain.

Even if he tried to quiet them down, hot water hitting the back of his head as he takes his time washing his hair, he wasn’t sure he could do it. 

He was used to judgment. First it was him being a nerd, which evolved into freak, which ended with reckless. First he had been an outcast, then he had been the dangerous teen, now he was the young dad who barely finished high school. 

His problem -he realised as the water pressure hitted the knot that he had on his left shoulder- was that that had all happened before you met him. 

And he hadn’t told you a lot about that. Or about Hellfire and just how important and life saving it had been for him, despite it’s nerdy side, which was what you had only seen. 

He had a river of what if’s as he brushed his damp hair, putting leave in conditioner and drying it. 

He kept thinking. 

What if you seeing him with (ironically) even more kids had somehow pushed you away.

What if you knowing that he had been on the verge of expulsion made you reject him. 

What if you getting to actually know him made you wish you never had in the first place. 

Wayne knew what was going on, but he had realised through experience that the best he could do is just give him space, facilitate the tasks he had to do. So he left him his comfort black button up shirt he always wore when he wanted to feel better, his usual blue jeans under it. 

He had dressed Lua, with the hand-me-down clothes Jameson from three trailers up had given them a few months ago, a pastel baby blue dress she had a fuss about, until she realised it was actually comfortable. Wayne smiled to himself, remembering how Eddie used to do the same. 

Across the street, you were setting up the table. 

The meat cannelloni your grandma used to make for you -or your best attempt at them- where being covered in bechamel that you had just finished, the bottom of the pot that you had used was barely brown for once, a good sign, you thought. Maybe a bit too nutmeg, maybe not enough salt, but it drowns the cannelloni in a warm blanket, before you put some shredded cheese on top. 

Once they were in the oven, the whole trailer smelt like warmth. 

And you started fidgeting with the hem of your long sleeve. 

You checked again that the white wine was chilled, and that you had plenty of water and orange juice for Lua. 

You repainted your lips red, and checked that you didn’t have any mascara stains in your eyelids for the third time. 

You decided to set the table, soft music playing in the background. A tape you had had for a while, with Bowie, the Smiths and some songs you just knew the name of. As you placed the last fork, the familiar soft knock came from the door. A smile appearing in your lips as a response. 

Eddie’s breathing slowed down as soon as he locked eyes with you. His shoulders dropped a bit, his eyes softened, just by seeing you, the river of thoughts stopped. 

Wayne’s eyebrows raised -as soon as he saw the effect you had on his anxious nephew- but neither of you noticed. 

“You look nice.” You let out, your voice softer, kinder. 

“So do you.” He said back, his voice no longer shaking. Lua in his arms, reaching for you. 

“Hi dude!” Your pitch became higher, as you grabbed her for a quick hug, letting her on the floor so she could investigate as she loved to do. 

Eddie stepped a bit closer to you, leaving a kiss on the spot he liked so much, right where your right temple met your hairline, before introducing you to Wayne. 

“It’s a pleasure.” You tell him, a firm shake of hands proceeds your words, a kind smile in his lips as his eyes are framed by smile lines. 

“I’m sure it’s all mine.” He replays, you like how he drags every word, his accent being so different form the one Eddie has. “It smells heavenly.” 

“Grandma’s recipe.” You tell him, as you move to the table. 

Eddie sees that you had fixed a chair with a couple of your hard pillows, so Lua could actually be seated on her own chair, with you. For some stupid reason, it warmed his heart. He hadn’t asked you to, assuming that she’d just be in his lap once again, but seeing that you had taken the effort, made him see -even if he thought it before- just how much you do care. 

Wayne caught it, the way Eddie’s smirk appeared as he looked at the chair, the small plastic plate and utensils you had set up for her. Water and orange juice. Wayne was starting to like you already, and he had barely talked to you. 

Everyone seemed to like the food, a soft wow escaped Wayne’s lips when non one was looking, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. Lua had wanted to try them as soon as they were set up on the table, Eddie telling her as he cut them up in a soft voice that they were too hot, she didn’t care. She grabbed the end of the fork Eddie had, trying to take a bite. 

“Do you really wanna burn your mouth?” He asked, even if he was a bit overwhelmed, his tone stayed sweet, calm. She nodded, only looking at the food. He let her take a small bite, which she did eat, chewing with her mouth opened. “I told you.” Eddie gave her a look that you found endearing. His head tilted ever so slightly to the right, his eyes opened a bit too much nodding as he did so, a soft giggle escaped your lips. He couldn’t help his from curling as soon as he heard you. 

“Yummy” Is all she said, and it made your eyes squint a bit, your smile growing bigger. Eddie’s voice stopped for a second as he saw you, and how proud you looked. 

“You like it?” Eddie could swear your eyes shined when you asked, even a bit brighter when you saw Lua nodding. 

Wayne realised something in that moment, the small bubble that you seemed to be in. 

From where he was, it already looked like you belonged. Like you always had. You seemed to understand Eddie just as good as he was, maybe even better. 

Wayne did try to get to know you, asking you things every time he felt like he had an opportunity. He was always kind, and gave you a smile when you answered. 

The thing that you found out that Wayne and Eddie shared was how much they listened, and remembered. 

“How come you ended up in Hawkins?” 

“They lied to her.” Eddie replayed before you could, food still in your mouth. 

“Whaddumean?” Wayne responded in shock, his eyes staring at you, wanting you to answer. 

“I uh… I got a call about a teaching spot that was supposedly open, in the High School, but uh… they forgot to add that it wouldn’t actually be available for another six months so… I’m in the cafe, saving up… you know” You felt like you were overexplaining yourself, or that you were coming across as pitiful, but as soon as you felt Eddie's hand on your thigh, a small squeeze on it, you knew you were going to be okay. That you were doing okay. 

Wayne looked over at Eddie, a smirk appearing on his lips, that Eddie knew the meaning of, and for once he was welcome you didn’t. It said, you also want to get out of here. Eddie couldn’t unpack that, not now. 

“Well, I’ve heard you’ve already met some of your future students.” He said instead, taking a sip of the white wine you had poured for him. 

“Have I?” 

“Didn’t your little fan club come?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie, who had gone quieter. Not only was he not talking, but he had that shyness that he had grown to hide coming out, right there in the open. 

“Fan club?” You asked back, giving him a little look. He seemed lost, present, but still not entirely there. 

“Hellfire, we uh… play a game together.” 

“I didn’t know you had more kids beside Lua.” Even if you were smiling sincerely, even if he knew you were teasing him, he still gave you an apologetic smile, not really looking at you but at Wayne, begging him to stop. 

Wayne understands, so he waits a few seconds for the music that had been softly playing to stop, he wipes his mouth with the napkin as he nods at his nephew. 

“I should get Lua to bed.” He excuses himself, as he walks over to her. Lua looked up at him with a puzzled look in her eyes, her head swinging between his dad and his uncle. “Let’s go to bed, Lu.” It’s the first time that you hear him being sweet, almost like honey. 

Lua stands up on her own, her arms up in the air, waiting to be lift up by him. He waves you goodbye in sync with Wayne as he walks out the door. 

You stand up. 

You don’t really know what you have done to make Eddie quiet, but you give him space, as you clear the table, and you catch him playing with his index finger, a repetitive movement that lets you know he’s got something bugging him in his mind. 

You let him stay in the chair while water runs down your hands. Calming yourself whilst you come out with the right words. 

“Are you okay?” You end up asking the most basic question, but the only one you can actually think of. He finally looks up at you, and in doing so he realises due to the iron taste in his mouth that he had been biting his lower lip a bit too hard. 

“Yeah, just… Sorry.” He tried to brush it off, finally standing up, walking to the kitchen. His hands hidden deep in the back pockets of his jeans.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He knows that took courage out of you to ask, you start cleaning the plates, the sponge bubbling up as you squeezed it. 

“Do you want me to dry?” He asks back, stepping closer to you, nodding to your previous question, looking for a way to be close to you. 

“Sure.” You step to the left, letting him a bit of space for him to fit, his waits hitting his, a comforting touch that makes his brain slow down once more. “Did I do something? While we were eating?” You try to ask, not sure why he went quiet all of a sudden. Not sure why Wayne had vanished and let you two alone, or why he nodded at Eddie before doing so. 

“No, you were amazing. I can tell Wayne already likes you.” He admits, drying the first plate, his voice was shaking a bit in anticipation about the conversation he knew you were about to have. “It’s just… I haven’t been embarrassed about Hellfire in like, ever. And suddenly the fear that you might I dunno, think it’s dumb, or that you wouldn’t like me being like, this huge nerd, that hangs out with Highschoolers while you are supposed to be a teacher and I…” He was talking faster and faster, his words were starting to fuse together, catching up to the speed in which his brain was thinking about it all. 

You turn the faucet off, paying him full attention. He catches that in the midst of his rumbling. His eyes lock with yours, as nervous tears make his eyes crystallize. 

“Shit I barely graduated. I hated school, I was a freak who liked to play or still likes rather, who tried to defend anyone even if I got beat up or called shitty things and then I got a kid and shit… You have been nothing but nice and you literally are like a I dunno, a princess. Kind and all that shit I don’t… I don’t really deserve it.” 

You shake your head as he talks, wanting to interrupt but not really being able to. You just take his hand, a soft touch that lets him know he’s being heard. 

“Moon.” He can’t help but look at the way your lips move when you call him by the sweetest nickname he had ever been called, only made better by your voice. Your thumb tracing drabbles on the back of his hand. “I like that you’re a nerd.” He can feel the sincerity of your voice, only made more evident by the smile that painted your lips. “I like it because I like you.” You tell him, your eyes looking at the way his lips part, his head shaking in embarrassment. “I don’t care if you play whatever game, or hang out with whoever, because that makes you who you are. And that’s who I like.” 

“Idiot.” It’s the only thing he can manage to say back, with the stupidest widest smile you had seen from him. 

“Hopefully yours.” You tease back, turning back to keep cleaning more dishes. 

He just stands there, mesmerized by you, and the way that you treat him, how you make him feel. He just gives in the urge, his arms wrapping to your waist, his chest hitting your back. You gave in a bit, pushing into him, melting in his arms. 

He took the opportunity to kiss your neck, right where it made your skin tingle, goosebumps being sent through your body. He kisses the same spot again after he hears a giggle turning into a soft moan. 

You turn to him, finally giving him a decent kiss. 

His lips intertwined with yours, the softness contradicted with the underlining neediness of his touch, both of you smiling through the kiss, his hands in the small of your waist, pulling you in closer, your hands lost in his hair, tugging it in a way he thought was heavenly. 

“Yeah, hopefully mine.” He finally responded, once he broke off the kiss, his forehead still touching yours, his hands tracing circles on your skin, under your shirt. You couldn’t stop playing with the ends of his hair. 

You stayed a bit longer like that, soft caress left on your body, as you just held each other, whispering sweet nothings to one another. 

-

He had come over, right when you were ending your shift, panic in his eyes. He was stressed, you could tell that much, switching his order from regular to decaf. He told you, that he had just been called to cover a late shift, and that he didn’t know if he could take Lua with him, because it would be too late, that Wayne had the night shift and wouldn’t be home until 6 in the morning, how much he just needed some reassurance, maybe a little kiss -he couldn’t stop teasing, not even if he tried, not even when he was panicking- but he wasn’t expecting your response to all of this. 

“I could go over and watch her.” 

You saw how his thoughts stopped for a moment, and how the warmth he felt in his heart after he heard your words spread through his cheeks. He asked if you were sure, if you actually didn’t mind. He reminded you that you didn’t have to do it, that it wasn’t your responsibility nor did he want to impose you with something you weren’t ready for. 

“I’d love to spend some time with her. Maybe she’ll even like me more than you in the end.”

He chuckled, added a no way and thanked you a bit too much, finalizing it all with a quick kiss before he headed out, already late for his shift. 

A to go cup in his hand.

Wayne had also thanked you profusely, even if he was a man of no words, he gave you a smile and a comforting squeeze on your shoulder. Lua was sitting down on the couch, mumbling along to the words to her favourite princess movie, while she swanged her hand around, holding on tightly to her chocolate chip cookie. 

You sat down next to her, she squeezed in closer to you. 

“You really like Aurora, don’t you?” Your voice was always higher in pitch when you talked to her, slower, softer. You thought that maybe you did that, in a way, because if someone had been kinder to you when you were little, maybe things would have been easier. 

“She’s the best.” She answered, as if it was painfully obvious. “She lives in the woods, like me!” She pointed out, as soon as the little cottage came on the screen. 

“She does.” 

“And Dada says I’m special like her.” You noticed how her eyes shined when she talked about Eddie, the care and love he had for her reciprocating in the way she talked. 

“You are.” You reassured her, brushing her hair with your fingers, she cuddled with you, a smile on her face. 

-

Three fast knocks on the door made you startled. Lua had just gone to bed, and you were a bit busy cleaning the mess you ended up doing. Thankfully, you were used to cleaning after yourself, white papers filled with doodles, and teddies laid on the floor next to the couch. You looked at the clock, and you saw that Eddie still had a while to come home, and he wouldn’t knock, he would just barge in. So with an unsure pace, you made your way to the trailer door, opening it as the little boy was screaming Eddie’s name. 

“Oh, hi.” He mumbled, as soon as he saw you. 

“Hi. You’re… Dustin?” He took a quick look at you, scanning the scene before he dared to say anything else, not really understanding why you opened the door and not his friend who actually lived there. 

“Uh, yeah. We met.” He was measuring his words, still a bit unsure as to what he was supposed to do now. “Where’s Eddie?”

“D’you wanna come in?” You both had asked the questions at the same time, so when he nodded, you just stepped to the side so he could come in. You noticed the backpack he had glued to his back, his straps tighter so the weight wouldn’t bother him. “What do you got there?” You pointed at the heavy back with your finger, a curious tone in your voice that made him grab it, before putting it on the table. 

“Oh, I was supposed to meet Eddie.” He said, before seeing you nod, wanting to know more, as you sat down. He followed your movements, as he opened the bag. “He left me some of his D&D stuff, and he was supposed to help me with some things I wanted to add to my first campaign.” He started yapping, you saw that just as Eddie, he talked faster when he was excited about a topic. 

“That’s the game you were playing the other day?” You ask sincerely, he nods, as he starts to fill the table with books, little figurines, papers that had scribbling with two different handwriting, sketches… You got lost into all of it for a second, Dustin watching at the way you seemed to analyze it all. “Could you… like, teach me stuff about it?” 

“Why?” Dustin scrunched his nose, not really following you, his eyebrows almost meeting on the bridge of his nose. 

“Eddie really likes this game, and he talks about it, and I don’t always follow, but I don’t wanna bother him with too many questions so…” 

Dustin's wide smile was all the confirmation you needed. 

You were starting to get it, you had races, and classes and the little numbers on the paper sheets where abilities, that you decided rolling weird sided dice. 

You were in to deep, trying to understand and following him closely, as he flipped through the pages of the big dense book he had between the both of you. 

Maybe that’s why neither of you heard him when he walked in. 

He was about to talk, his mouth remained open, but as soon as he saw you both, he stayed there. His body against the door frame, his arms crossed above his chest as he just looked, with the fondest stupidest smile on his lips as he saw just how much interest you had in whatever Dustin was talking to you about. 

“So you can mix and match any classes and races?” You ask, Eddie's heart stops for a moment, he hadn’t realised you were talking about his game. 

“Yeah, I mean if you were to play a bard which was…?” Dustin was questioning you, seeing if you remembered what he had just spent some time trying to explain to you. 

“An unhinged rockstar that likes to tell stories.” 

“So basically Eddie.” Dustin made the same joke again, making you giggle, whilst Eddie tried to hide his chuckle, wanting to know what you’d say without you knowing he was there. 

“That’s my man.” You teased back, in a singing tone that made Dustin laugh as he looked back down at the book. 

“Yeah, so, if you made your Bard a Half-Elf, it would automatically get a +2 to charisma, which is extremely useful to them.” He cheered, you nodded. You knew that Dustin was feeling a bit proud, as he was explaining these things to you. 

“And they also get a +1 stat boost to other abilities.” Eddie finally chirped in, making his presence known. 

He smiled widely, as he walked over to you. His arms falling to his side, his heart beating faster as if it were eager to finally be near yours. 

“Hi.” You said, voice barely above a whisper as he got closer.

“Hi.” He answered, closing the distance between your lips with a quick peck. 

Dustin was happy, seeing the way Eddie melted when you were close, he liked seeing his friend act like that. All soft, as opposed to the thought persona he had to give out when he was still in school, back when they met each other. 

“Dustin was helping me understand your game.” You told him, eyes shining up at him. “But you’re the one he wants to ask stuff to, so… I’ll head home. See you soon Henderson.” You told the cap wearing boy, with a soft squeeze to his shoulder, he waved bye to you, looking as Eddie walked you to the door. “Lua’s been asleep for a while, so don’t worry about that.” You told him, getting a bit lost into him, which you were starting to realise you had no control over, when his eyes looked like chocolate pools under the moonlight. 

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” He told you, pushing a small flock of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with his thumb a bit longer than he really needed to. 

You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes not letting go from his stare. You bite your lower lip, a bit from shame, a bit from childish excitement over kind words. He lowered his thumb, pulling your lip down so you wouldn’t bite it. 

The delicate move, the roughness of his callused finger contradicting with the softness of it all, sends your body into overdrive. 

Goosebumps not only filled your body, but his too. He felt it just as much as you need, the spark, the electricity, the fire. It screamed i need you, though sometimes, it seemed like it was screaming i love you, or rather i could love you if you let me. 

“Why?” Is the only thing you could gather to ask, your voice shaking a bit from want, or need. Eddie felt like your voice was a velvety hug on his skin. 

“Just, you really are.” 

He kissed you. His thumb tilted your jaw upwards so he could reach your lips, even if it was a simple movement, it still made your head a bit dizzy. You took a step closer to him, amidst the kiss, so your waist would touch his, so you could get your hands on the back of his neck, burying them in his hair. Your tongues touch, and you feel out of breath. Eddie couldn’t stop himself from smiling, he was too happy, and it was all thanks to you. 

“Goodnight Moon.” You whispered into his ear, finally pulling away. 

“Goodnight Princess.” 

He could have stayed there, watching you leave forever, if it weren’t for Dustin’s soft teasing. A stream of oh lover boy! that came from inside the trailer, it couldn’t even bother him, not even a little bit. 

Because deep down he knew, he was falling deep in love with you. 

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part 4 is up, thank for the support dudes <3

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