#rockstar!eddie x author!reader

[cielie-voss]

Hey there!

Stumbled across your blog and fell in love with your Eddie Fics! 😍

If you're still taking request, I'd like to request something Rockstar!Eddie x Reader, where Reader works at a bar or cafe and Eddie is on tour with Corroded coffin and meets her at work. She doesn't believe that he's a rockstar and thinks he just wants to impress her until one day, she accepts his silly pickup lines and goes on a date with him.

If you don't like this, it's totally fine. Hope you have some peaceful holidays (and a very unmerry Christmas, absolutely loved this!)

Rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I'm so sorry it took me so long, I hope you like it! I just wanted to write something short and simple (ha, jokes on me, short and simple seems to be something not possible for me). I had so much fun writing this!

Warnings: Rockstar AU, Fluff, bad pickup lines, idiots in love, mutual pining, Reader is a writer, some petnames, takes place in the 90's. Wordcount: ~8k ("something short and simple") Summary: After some crazy years of university stress, heartbreaks, family problems and the wrong kind of friends, Y/N decided to take a year to discover herself, figure out her dreams and wishes. With her newfound freedom she just wanted to do some Minijobs and travel the world. No university stressing her with exams, no annoying family who's trying to tell her what to do, no backstabbing friends, and most importantly: no dating and no more heartaches. But boy oh boy, she could've never been more wrong. Taglist: @violetmiroh If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗 Masterlist

Finally. 

After years of stress and torture you finally found some freedom. You successfully graduated college with your major in literature, ready to enter the real world. And that’s not the only thing you had to master throughout the past years.

“Why don’t you study something useful? Maybe business administration? Or marketing?” Your parents had perfected the game of making your life a living hell. Literature was something useless for them. Something where you would never get a real job. But you wanted nothing less than to write. Write about everything. Poems. Dramas. Novels. You wanted to tell the world about the little stories in your mind. But writing wasn’t a job. At least in your parents opinion.

“Did you meet a nice guy? At least some guy that likes girls who can’t get their noses out of these damn books? Any friends other than Tolkien or Poe?” God, these people are so ignorant. Everytime you visited your family or called them, your mother had another blind date arranged for you.

“You remember Daron? Yeah, the Daron you went to elementary school with. His fiancée cheated on him, you know? He’s such a nice and handsome guy. Why don’t you call him? Wouldn’t it be sweet if you guys meet again after years?” No, mom, that wouldn’t be sweet. 

“Oh, honey! I’m so sorry. I totally forgot I asked Fred and his mother to come over for lunch. You remember Fred, right? He used to tease you back in middle school. You know what they say: lovers like to tease each other!” You were glad your mother turned away from you as you were rolling your eyes dramatically. Laughing at her own ridiculous joke, she turned to Fred and his mother. 

To be honest, your dating life was just as miserable as it could be. Even without your mothers help. And not because of what you were studying or your interests, like your mother said. Or because of your casual and comfy style or mostly reserved and introverted personality. Your heartaches and frustration with the male gender was mostly due to their immature behavior. 

Over the years you experienced nearly all sorts of failed romances. Caught them cheating, being ghosted, unknowingly ended up as a one night stand, being the affair, constant fighting, being rejected and creepy mothers who tried to arrange a wedding after two weeks of going out or guys with a special relationship to their mothers. Some weird Norman Bates kind of relationship. There was even one guy, whom you really liked, that sadly turned out to be gay.

“Why did you have to move so far away?” Well, this one is self-explanatory. 

“At least you could call us every second day.” Thanks, but no thank you. You didn’t want to give them another way of terrorizing you with their unrealistic ideas and expectations.

All you wanted was to live your life the way you wanted to, and not how they wanted your life to be. No parents, no stress, and most important: no dating. Just you.

So after you graduated and broke up with the seemingly most perfect guy, who turned out to be a rotten liar and the most unfaithful piece of shit, who didn’t just cheated on you multiple times, but also stole your hard earned money, you decided to take a year off to travel around the world, to find yourself. You sold your car and the stuff you wouldn’t need anymore and with that money, you started your journey. 

On your trip you’ve seen the probably most beautiful cities and met even more wonderful people. To afford your stay you worked from time to time in little cafés and lovely bars. In exchange for room and board you worked as a temporary worker on farms. In your free time you sat down and wrote. The people and landscapes were so inspiring, you filled one notebook after another with short stories, poems and even started to work on something that might be your first novel. Every now and then you sent your works to different agencies and participated in writing competitions, improved your writing and earned some reputation for your works. 

London was the city you stayed the longest. You stayed with a lovely family, the Bakers, who owned a little pub in the outskirts of London. They treated you like family, like a family you never had but always wished for. You helped them with their household, tutored the kids after school and worked downstairs at the pub in the evening. 

When you had a day off, you’d usually sit down at the bar, a pint of ale in front of you, pen in hand. The words seemed to flow right out of your pen, as natural as breathing. 

You could’ve never wished for a better time. The Bakers treated you like a daughter they never had, and even the regulars at the pub treated you like one of the Bakers. Between lovely drunken blue-collar workers, who loved to tell their stories and sing their work songs, you felt somehow at home, you felt safe and came out of your shell. With each day you became more extroverted, literally flourishing and bristling with self-confidence. 

And it was in that pub where you met the guy in Jean's vest who stood out like a sore thumb in this scenery. From behind the bar you couldn't help but notice how his leg bounced up and down like a nervous child. After some minutes you decided to help him calm down a bit.

“Are you waiting for your date?” With a warm smile you looked down on him.

“Huh?” As if you pulled him out of a trance, he winced and looked at you with a dumbfounded expression. You huffed at his reaction and sat down the pint in front of him.

“I asked, if you’re waiting for your date to show up.” The smile remained on your lips as you looked into his big brown puppy eyes. His eyes darted to the pint you just gently shoved towards him.

“Don’t worry, that’s on the house.” You assured him.

“Thanks, uh … “ Again, like he was in a trance-like state, he shakes his head and looks back at you. “My name’s Eddie.” He reached his hand out to you and you shook it. You noticed the unusual rings that adorned his fingers and the little bats that were tattooed on his forearm. He obviously didn’t belong here. 

“Nice to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N.” 

There was something in the way he looked at you that you couldn't identify. So after a short moment of awkward silence you took a sharp breath in, pulled your lips into a thin smile and said “Anyway, let me know if I could do anything for you. And good luck with that date.” You gave him a wink and turned back to your bar to serve the regulars who are now, bit by bit, rolling along.

As the hours ticked by and the bar settled into its usual hustle and bustle, you found yourself repeatedly returning your gaze to Eddie. Something about his appearance had a mesmerizing effect on you. And there was no way you could say what it was that captivated you. 

Slowly he began to warm up a bit, engaged in conversations with some other guests, but without further notice, he also caught himself repeatedly trying to catch a glimpse of you. 

“Make sure he gets home safe!”, you called out to the cabbie, a lovely man named Barnaby, after you accompanied a slightly drunk Tommy outside to the cab.

“Y/N, my dearest!” Tommy slurred after you handed him over into Barnaby’s hands. “One day, I promise, I will introduce you to my son! I’ll gladly take you as my daughter-in-law!” 

“Go home and sober up, then we’ll see!”, you laughed and waved the drunk redhead, with a face glowing as red as his hair, goodbye.

“Isn’t she just the most loveliest person on earth?” Tommy asked, now turned to Barnaby, who was just smiling and nodding in approval.

Quietly grinning to yourself you closed the door and headed back to the bar. It was already past midnight, the pub slowly became quieter until Eddie was the only one sitting there, his ringed fingers wrapped around his emptied glass. 

“I guess it’s time to kindly tell me to fuck off, isn’t it?” You had to admit that Eddie’s puppy eyes made you soft.

You cocked your head and with an apologetical expression you nodded. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”

Eddie just shrugged, a sheepish smile playing around his lips as he carefully slid the glass towards you. 

“It’s okay. I’m glad I had the chance to be stood up and get you as my substitute-date.” He got up from the old, shrieking bench, winked at you and left the bar.

“Keep the change, Y/N my dearest!”, he chanted. 

Only now did you look down at the glass and saw the bills peeking out from underneath. You wanted to shout out to him “Eddie, I think you made a mistake!”, but he was gone and left you with this lavish tip. 

For a moment you stood there, stunned by this man, before Mr. Baker could pull you back to reality. “C’mon Y/N, it’s late, go to bed and get some sleep.” You turned around to face him, the human version of a teddybear, looking down at you with a knowing smile. You quickly took care of closing out the register before stuffing Eddie's tip into the big tip jar.

“No, no, no. You keep that.” Mr. Baker pulled out the bills and handed them over to you. “It’s yours.” And before you had the chance to protest, he patted your shoulder and gently pushed you towards the door that leads to the family’s private apartment.

You tried to find some sleep, but everytime you closed your eyes, you saw this lovely smile and these big round puppy eyes. God damnit! Why did he have to be so cute?

The next morning you pulled out your notebook, after multiple failed attempts to fall back asleep again. Maybe some writing would banish this handsome face out of your mind that kept you awake. But jokes on you! 

Your mind always wandered back to this guy, his messy hair, the sloppy smile, the tattoos on his arm, his big, brown eyes … It was enough to drive you up the wall. So instead of accidentally turning the love interest in your little fantasy romance into a copy of Eddie, you put down your writing stuff, took a deep breath and left your room.

When you entered the small kitchen, Penelope Baker, who everyone called Poppy, already waited for you with a knowing smirk dancing around her thin lips.

“Good morning, lovely.”, she chirped, her words underlined with a cheeky undertone that made you stop mid motion. You narrowed your eyes in suspicion and cocked your head before you let yourself down on your chair.

“Good morning.”, you answered with a skeptical frown.

“Coffee?” As if nothing had happened, Poppy offered you the coffee pot. With a nod you cued her to pour the steaming hot liquid in your cup. You thanked her and wrapped your hands around the cup to warm yourself a bit. The smell of this freshly grounded coffee filled your nose and was already enough to wake up your still sleepy mind.

Just as you thought Poppys previous smirk was just another one of her quirky habits and meant nothing, her voice turned into that typical ‘I’m your mother and know exactly what’s going on’-tone as she said “So Theodore told me about that guy last night.”

For a split second you froze, then let out a sighed “Oh my god.” 

“What? Teddy said he seemed to like you. Oh lord, isn’t that adorable? A young, handsome, mysterious guy showing up, unexpectedly sweeping this young lady off her feet.” In a dramatic motion she clutched her hands to her chest and jumped out of her chair.

“Oh, young love! I would give anything to feel like this again in my old days.” As if she was dancing with the ghost of a long lost lover, she seemingly floated through the small kitchen.

With a frustrated sigh you buried your face in your hands. Your grumbled “Oh my god” was more embarrassed this time.

“But you do know I’m right here, my love?”, Theodore coaxed, as he leaned back in his chair and watched his wife with a raised eyebrow.

“Tz, I’m not talking about you, Teddy.”, she waved him off.

Sensing the upcoming argument, even if it’s not meant seriously, you grabbed your cup of coffee and sneaked out of the kitchen. “Okay. I guess that’s my cue to leave you two alone.”

The rest of the day you spent with Nathan and Ethan, helping them with their homework. You haven’t met a lot of twins in your life so far, but you never met twins that were so different from each other than Nathan and Ethan, which made tutoring them a real challenge. But sitting between these bickering boys was still a better alternative than being ribbed about Eddie by Teddy and Poppy.

Since it was your day off and you couldn’t focus on your writing upstairs in your little room, you went down into the pub earlier than usual. Your hopes were high that the hustle and bustle around you would distract your mind a bit so you could focus on your writing. 

The first few sentences had a hard time coming out. But after you got back into your flow the words came out on their own. That was until you noticed a brown haired figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye. 

“Aw, did you miss me?”, you leered and leaned back to face Eddie with a smug grin. “Or do you wanna give your date a second chance?”

“Well, actually,” Eddie declared, nonchalantly dropping into the seat opposite you, “I was just trying to get away from some of these pushy fangirls, you know?”

As if he was discussing the weather, he leaned back, fingers tapping a casual rhythm on the table. “Yeah, sure. Clingy fans,” you joked, closing your notebook and using the pen as a bookmark.

“Listen, being a rockstar isn’t easy when you’re smoking hot like me,” he explained, a self-assured chuckle escaping him as he tilted his chair back, the legs scraping against the floor.

You disappeared behind the bar and met a very amused looking Mister Baker.

With furrowed brows, you leaned to your side in an attempt to peer through one of the beautiful stained glass windows. Eddie followed your gaze, then turned back to you with a puzzled expression after trying in vain to discern what had caught your attention.

"What?" he inquired, reverting to the shy and nervous behavior from yesterday.

You couldn't contain the giggles bubbling out of your chest as you leaned back and faced Eddie again. "Nothing. I was just trying to get a glimpse of all those fangirls you escaped from."

"Oh, great, you're making fun of me," Eddie stated, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon, Eddie. You're trying to convince me you're a rockstar." You waited for a response, anticipating another remark about his alleged status as a musician, but were met with a sulky Eddie instead.

"Okay, I'm sorry, Mister Rockstar," you apologized playfully. "How about a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, whatever," he muttered in an exaggerated pouty manner.

 “Don’t you dare say a single word!”, you hissed to the man and to emphasize your statement, you raised a warning finger. Still grinning, he playfully raised his hand, mimicking the action of locking up his lips with an imaginary key.

You poured beer into two pints and placed one of them in front of Eddie.

“Cheers.” With your glass raised for a toast, you added “Let’s start over again. Hi, I’m Y/N.”

His eyes darted between you and his beer until he eventually gave in. “Hi Y/N, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.” As you clinked glasses you locked eyes, which unexpectedly sparked something inside of you. Something you couldn’t quite explain, but it felt unexpectedly good. 

For the rest of the evening, your intention to continue with your manuscript was completely forgotten and replaced by the desire to talk to Eddie for hours. He asked about your notebook and after you told him that you were about to write a novel, you found yourself in a lively conversation about your favorite authors with him. 

You talked about Tolkien, C. S. Lewis, George Orwell, Virginia Woolf for hours without noticing how late it was getting. There was this spark between you and him that ignited a fire within your soul, a fire that became bigger and bigger the more you talked about your interests. And when you spoke, his eyes were literally glued to your lips. You’ve never felt more comfortable in your life than in this exact moment, talking to a stranger about your biggest passion and your dreams to publish your first fantasy novel. 

A few more beers followed, Teddy even brought you some snacks. Then Eddie told you about the DnD campaigns he planned and plotted years ago with his friends, his love for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit and assured you that he’ll be the first one to buy your book. When you told him, you never had the chance to play DnD, because you never really had that kind of friends, something flashed in his eyes.

“You never played DnD?" Eddie's jaw dropped, his eyes widening as if your statement had personally offended his very existence. "Oh, what a shame! Okay, you know what?” His elbows crashed onto the table, and he leaned in so close that you could practically feel the intensity of his gaze. His soft eyes locked onto yours, filled with determination. “I, Eddie Munson, promise you, Y/N Y/L/N, that I’ll introduce you to the world of DnD one day.” With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he dramatically raised his pinkie for a solemn pinkie promise, an act you sealed with your own pinkie.

“Alright, deal.”, you whispered, absolutely mesmerized by the guy you just met yesterday.

“Deal.” He repeated solemnly.

“Okay, you lovebirds.” Mister Baker's voice interrupted your promise, pulling your attention back to reality. The pub around you was empty and the chairs were already put back on the tables. “I’m really sorry, but my wife will kill me if I don’t close the pub soon.”

With your face blushing with shame you quickly leaned back into your seat and looked away. How embarrassing that must have been to watch. Like you were teenagers again.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a look at the clock. “Oh, shit, yeah. I should go now, my friends are surely wondering where I am. Goodnight, Y/N.” He paused for a moment to look at you one last time before he left the pub in a hurry.

The looks both Mr Baker and Mrs Baker gave you were unequivocally. But in your opinion, they were reading something into your casual conversation with Eddie. Something you didn’t seem to perceive. 

The next few days, Eddie found himself inexplicably pulled to that charming little pub, his heart fluttering with excitement every time he spotted your Y/H/C hair behind the bar through the stained glass windows. Without fail, he made his way there each evening, armed with a new and absurd excuse. Sneaking up behind you, he would unleash the most cringe-worthy pickup lines, each one more outrageous than the last. You'd heard your fair share of cheesy pickup lines over the years, but none had ever elicited the same blend of blushes and giggles that Eddie's managed to. It was as if you both had regressed to the age of twelve, sharing a playful banter that was both bad and yet undeniably funny.

As you brought his first pint of beer for the evening, you found him crouched forward in his seat, his face twisted in an exaggerated expression of pain. Concern etched on your face, and with furrowed brows you asked, “Everything's okay, Eddie?” To which he replied with a mischievous glint in his eye, "Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I just scraped my knee falling for you." This unexpectedly caught you off guard, and despite your efforts to suppress them, snickers escaped you, filling the air with shared laughter.

Another very stressful evening, when you passed him with a full tray of empty glasses, he said “Hey, Y/N, you dropped something!” 

“Huh?” You promptly came to standstill, the glasses clinking at the abrupt stop, and tried to figure out what you had dropped. But after you couldn’t find a damn thing and slowly became somewhat desperate, you noticed Eddie's lopsided smile. He seemed to be biting back his laughter as he quipped, “My jaw”, and brought that lovely smile of yours back to your lips with this poor attempt at flirting with you.

One evening, you were seated at the bar, leisurely sipping your coke, when Eddie stealthily approached from behind. Gently placing his hands around your waist, he leaned in and whispered in your ear, “You know, with all these secret rendezvous with you, I feel like I’m a spy or something. Hidden identities, clandestine meetings, just you and me, and no one knows about this, far away from the public.”

Playfully, you rolled your eyes and retorted, "Oh, please. You're not James Bond, Eddie."

He chuckled, "I may not be James Bond, but I am a famed rockstar by night.” To make sure no one heard him, he looked left and right, then turned back to you. “Shh, it's a secret!", he whispered and winked at you.

After releasing you, his warm hands leaving a lingering sensation, you sighed and turned your barstool to face him. For a fleeting moment, your gaze flickered to his slightly parted lips, now curled into a smug grin. Looking back into his eyes, you cocked your head and, absolutely unimpressed, countered, "Yeah. Nice try, buddy. You're not fooling anyone with that."

By now, your jokes about him allegedly being a rockstar didn’t seem bother him anymore. No. Instead he chimed in on your jokes, complained about clingy fangirls, unreliable sound engineers, the bad food during their tour. And you laughed at his jokes, thinking he was trying to impress you.

You could’ve sworn he must have heard your heart beating heavily in your chest when, with his hand resting on the counter behind you for support, Eddie leaned forward, nearly brushing your cheek. Just inches away from your face, the sensation of his breath on your skin caused a shudder to run through your body. If you would have tried to stand up, you suspected your legs would give way, as your body inexplicably turned to jelly in the mere proximity of him.

Eddie flashed a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, can't blame a guy for trying, can you? But it seems like it doesn’t necessarily need a secret agent or rockstar to sweep you off your feet, right?" His coarse voice, barely above a whisper, was vibrating in his chest. Chuckling, he leaned back, feigning nonchalance, though a subtle twinkle in his eye hinted at the amusement behind his teasing attempt. As his face, and lips, were outside the danger zone, you noticed that you were straining holding your breath for what felt like an eternity. 

“How was your date?” Poppy asked teasingly as you came upstairs one evening. Eddie brought you his copy of The Hobbit and some flowers he picked from some front yard that reminded him of you. The pub was very crowded that evening, so you two decided to just chill in the backyard, counting stars and eating the cookies he brought.

“That was not a date.”, you declared and rolled your eyes.

“Oh. Of course. No date. I understand. Like the other not-a-dates you two had the last couple nights, right?” Poppy winked at you knowingly. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, so you turned away and took care of the dirty dishes.

One day Eddie came to the pub earlier than usual. The pub wasn’t even open yet. Shaking from the nervousness that filled his body, he paced up and down the sidewalk in front of the pub. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was all nervous and excited like this. A thousand thoughts rushed through his mind, as he waited for you to come down after he rang the doorbell.

“Okay Eddie. Breath in-” He took a deep breath in, “- breath out.” His breath was shaking. And since his attempt at calming himself down didn’t quite have the effect he wished for, he took a long drag from his cigarette, inhaling the smoke that had at least a little soothing effect on his nerves.

“Eddie?” The sudden sound of your voice made him jump, causing you to smile. You stuck your head out of a window and looked down on him.

“Hey, Y/N!”, he greeted you. All of a sudden the words he already laid out in his head vanished into thin air. 

“I … Y/N would you … I mean …” Eddie closed his eyes, took another deep breath and gathered his courage. “Would you like to go out with me? Tonight?” With furrowed brows he looked up to you. His heart nearly jumped out his chest as the words left his lips.

“You mean like a date?” The smile on your face grew wider than ever before. “A rockstar is asking someone like me out for a date? Is this some cinderella kind of story?” Your nervous laughter made him hold his breath, expectantly waiting for your final answer. His body tensed up as you finally nodded, accepting his invitation.

“Sure. When and where?”

He smiled from ear to ear as he told you the time and place. 

“Alright. See you tonight!” You waved him goodbye and disappeared back into your room.

“Yeah, see you tonight.”, he whispered dreamy with his eyes fixed on your window for a little longer before he turned around and went back to his friends.

“So how’s the no-date-policy going?” Teddy leaned against your doorframe as you turned around, grinning like a highschooler that’s been asked out to prom.

“Oh shut up.”, you laughed in an attempt to hide the blush on your cheeks. 

“Hey! Poppy! Guess who has a date tonight!”, Teddy’s voice echoed through the apartment. His words had only just left his lips when Poppy was already standing in your room, seemingly faster than light and with a grin that almost looked scary.

“He asked you out?” But before you could answer, she grabbed you by your hands, pulled you into a tight embrace and swirled you around. “I never thought I could be any prouder as a mother than this.”

“Poppy, she’s not -” Teddy tried to intervene to remind her that you were not their actual daughter. But Poppy, filled with pride, interrupted him.

“Oh shut up, Teddy.”

Still giggling she released you to look you up and down. You were still in your baggy shorts and a faded shirt, that once used to be a blue and violet tie dye. The longer she looked at you, the more you got anxious. 

“So … “ she started after a moment. “And what are you going to wear?”

“What?” Her question caught you off guard. You were still busy to not freak out with joy.

“What are you going to wear tonight? Sure you can’t go on a date looking like this, sweetie.” Well, she was pretty damn right with that. In your mind you went through your little options. Because you were often switching between hostels and other places to stay the night, you chose not to carry that much clothing around with you. So most of your outfits consist of simple shirts, most of them already pretty baggy and faded, and some simple jeans. Nothing that you could wear on a date to make a good impression. Well, you honestly didn’t intend to go on dates anyway.

“Oh my god.”, now you have started to freak out. “What the hell am I going to wear?!” With furrowed brows and slightly panicking you looked at Poppy.

“Don’t worry, darling. I got you.” She gently squeezed your hand, then left your room, skipping like an excited child. 

“I guess I should leave you two girls alone.”, Teddy whispered to you, somehow happy to leave this intimate mother-daughter moment.

As long as Poppy combed through her wardrobe, you faced the mirror, trying to tame your hair to look nice and girly and not like a crazy witch. Just as you were trying to braid your hair, Poppy came back with a pile of clothes. This might be a more complicated and complex quest than you thought. 

You tried on outfit after outfit. Dresses. Skirts with lovely ruffle blouses. Your favorite so far was a dark brown culottes with a fluffy beige blouse. That was until Poppy pulled out a dress, short puffed sleeves, flowy skirt and a lovely floral pattern. You instantly put it on. The fabric was soft and light, the layered dip hem skirt flowed down from your waist like a waterfall of flowers. You never were a fan of these oldschool puffed sleeves, but you had to admit, that these were pretty flattering. Around your waist, the fabric was a bit ruffled up and tightened in your back like a corset. And the neckline was low-cut, but not too revealing.

As you eyed your reflection, admiring how the dress accentuates your favorite features and yet managed to conceal your insecurities, Poppy carefully completed the dress with a cute little necklace. 

“You look absolutely stunning!” She stood right behind you with her hands on your shoulders and examined your reflection too, looking like the proud and loving mother you never had. 

“Thanks Poppy.” was all you managed to get out at the moment. You never considered yourself good looking, not even close. Instead you always tried to hide your body and your low self esteem. But your new found family taught you in so many different ways how beautiful and stunning you actually were, on the inside as well as on the outside.

It felt like an eternity until it became evening and your long-awaited date with Eddie came closer. Watching the clock hands seemingly move in slow motion, your impatience grew with every second to infinity. Poppy helped you to braid your hair and embellished your french braids with colorful flowers from their balcony. 

Every fiber of your body was tense and it was a miracle you managed to walk to your destination. Nervously fidgeting with your ring, you found the place Eddie told you. But to your surprise, it wasn’t a restaurant or bar. It was a nightclub. Every time the door opened, rock music blared outside, then fell silent again when the door closed. 

Did he mess up the address? Or did you mess up? Anxious, you verified the address of this place over and over again, finding no mistake, until the ticket taker spoke to you, thinking you were the next in line. “What’s your name?”

Pulled out of your thoughts you looked at him. “What?”

“What is your name, so I can let you in.”, he repeated.

“Oh, Y/N Y/L/N, but I think I got the wrong address, sorry.”

Just as you were about to leave, embarrassed and downhearted, he opened the door for you and the music carried you inside.

As you hesitantly entered the club you simultaneously entered a whole different galaxy. The heavy guitar sounds and fast drums adapted to the fast and nervous beating of your heart. With a loud thud the door slammed shut behind you. 

People mostly dressed in black leather jackets or jeans vests covered in patches, pins and studs ushered you further into the club. You let yourself get carried by the wave of metalheads, standing out like a sore thumb with your cute little dress and the flowers in your hair. The masses around you came to a stop and you found yourself in front of a big stage that was covered in red light, a flag hanging on the wall behind the setup that announced a band named ‘Corroded Coffin’. 

Squinting your eyes, you tried to find the guy with the wild, brown hair, but to your disappointment you couldn’t find him. After some minutes of desperately searching for that lovely smile, the few lights that tried in vain to lighten up the whole place dimmed and everything fell silent for a moment before some slow and hauntingly beautiful guitar riffs filled the air. Your eyes needed some time to adapt to the darkness around you. The crowd started to cheer frenziedly, jumping up and down uncontrollably as the heavy beats of a drum joined the guitar. Caged in that impetuous jostling, you had to stand on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the now partially lit up stage.

And when you caught sight of that wild, dark brown mane, you froze for a second, eyes wide open in shock. “No fucking way”, you mouthed in disbelieve.

The world around you seemed to fall into slow motion as the realization hit you hard. That guy in front of you, believe it or not, was Eddie. Eddie Munson, the guy you randomly met at a pub and made fun of because he claimed to be a rockstar. He was shredding his guitar like a maniac, a burst of energy radiating from him. And just as the crowd was about to freak out with excitement, he grabbed the microphone and, with a contagious enthusiasm, hollered to the crowd, "Alright, folks! Let's make some noise that'll shake these walls! We're here for a hell of a good time, so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride!" The crowd erupted into even louder cheers as the concert kicked off with a surge of electrifying energy. 

His eyes were scanning the crowd, desperately looking for your unmistakingly beautiful face. Fortunately his eyes found you, his look a mix of triumph and satisfaction. A silent declaration that spoke volumes, as if to say ‘See, I wasn’t pulling your leg.’ Still in disbelief, you shook your head as you watched him perform with his band.

“In the shadows of the night, where the demons come alive,

Echoes of thunder, a twisted ride, where the fearless dare to strive.

As the spirits intertwine, prancing to a symphony of the dark,

In the heart of rebellion, we leave our lasting mark.” 

Even though this wasn't your type of music, the sight of your type of guy performing like he's possessed by the devil himself made the whole show surprisingly enjoyable.

“Rising from the ashes, we're forged in the fire,

restless souls and a rebel's desire,

Riding the storm, breaking the chains.

Legends are born in the heat of the fight,

In the roar of the crowd, where freedom reigns.”

For the rest of the concert, Eddie couldn't take his eyes off you. The sea of ​​leather and denim jeans around you blurred into a viscous, gray mass, completely insignificant to him. All that mattered to him at that moment was you – your smile, outshining any star in the night sky, and your eyes, radiating a warmth that could envelop him even in the darkest of clouds overshadowing his mind.

The thundering beat of your heart, on the verge of explosion with excitement, merged seamlessly with the unexpectedly peppy song. At first, it was just the drums, synced with the slow strumming of the bass, gradually increasing its pace until it abruptly fell silent, giving way to Eddie's voice as he chimed in.

You couldn't have possibly missed the smug grin on Eddie's face, the grin you began to love throughout the past days, as he let his piercing guitar riffs slice through the dense air. The drums and bass seamlessly joined in, weaving together to unveil Eddie's latest song, evidently penned about a certain girl he had met just days ago.

“In a haze of neon lights, the city's heartbeat loud,

A crowded room, lost faces in the crowd.

Then there she stood, a vision rare,

Sweet innocence like the flowers in her hair.”

After they played their last song and the stage was once again covered in darkness, the masses around you, still hyped, rushed outside. Countless thoughts mixed with a wave of overwhelming emotions washed over you, leaving you riveted to the spot, unable to move. But as soon as you caught a glimpse of Eddie's wild mane while he climbed down from the stage, there was nothing that could’ve held you back. With a flock of muttered and incomprehensible excuses gushing out of your mouth, you pushed yourself through the remaining crowd towards Eddie. 

“Her laughter echoes, a sweet serenade.

Lost in the moment, nothing else compares.

Her eyes sparkle like stars in the night,

A sweet surrender, everything felt right.

Her words like poetry, a gentle breeze,

In the storm of life, she puts my mind at ease.

In the chaos of life, she's my symphony.”

“Eddie!” A security guard blocked your path, but you exerted all your strength to reach Eddie. “Please, let me through. I know Eddie; we’re friends. Please,” you pleaded, standing on your tiptoes and waving desperately for Eddie to notice you.

“Okay, you lovebirds. Don’t you think we should go somewhere more … quieter? At least with less prying spectators.”, the bassist, a tall guy with a smile sweet as honey which he desperately tried to hide, suggested.

“Nice try. I can’t let you through; the backstage area is just for the band.” The guard attempted to shoo you away, gently restraining you.

“No, you don’t understand. I���” Eddie, prompted by his drummer who pointed at you and the guard, rushed towards you, wearing the broadest smile on his lips.

“Y/N!” The sound of your name startled the guard, who turned his head, sensing trouble he needed to address. Taking advantage of the distraction, without a second thought, you leaped over the barrier.

There was no way anyone could have held you back at that moment.

Everything unfolded rapidly, yet it felt like slow motion as you enveloped him in your arms. His warm hands cupped your face, fingers entangled in your hair. His lips met yours, moving in sync to a silent rhythm set by your connected heartbeats.

“Okay, nothing to see here, guys!” His bandmates pivoted to shield the curious looks of the crowd, slightly bewildered by the unexpected sight of their lead singer's romantic interlude.

“I never thought you would actually come,” he whispered against your lips, breaking the kiss but still cradling your face with his calloused hands. His voice trembled, and you could feel his heart pounding violently against your chest.

“And I never thought you were telling the truth, but here we are,” you retorted, still breathless, earning a laugh from him—a laughter you never wanted to miss in your life again.

“Is this Eddie’s secret girlfriend?” someone screamed excitedly, pointing at you and Eddie.

“Well, does this look like a secret to you?” the drummer huffed, attempting to disperse the onlookers.

With the help of the security, his bandmates managed to give you and Eddie some private space, away from their curious fans. They already suspected something was going on since they couldn’t figure out the reason behind his late night trips or the silly smiles dancing around his lips when he returned to their tour bus. He seemed to be a completely different person after he went out one night after a little argument with their manager. And now they finally had an answer, the answer was right in front of them. 

“Yeah, I think Jeff is right,” the drummer agreed. “And don’t you think you should introduce your secret girlfriend to us?” He playfully mimicked quotation marks with his fingers, emphasizing the words with a teasing tone, the rest of the band loudly agreeing. With his arms crossed above his chest and a raised eyebrow, the curly haired drummer, who was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt underneath a red plaid flannel, nearly squeezed himself between you and Eddie. 

Eddie took a deep breath and let go of you, silently cursing his nosy friends for interrupting this intimate moment with you. He grabbed you by your hand, squeezing it gently to, on one hand, assure you that everything is okay since he sensed your unease, but on the other hand to make sure you wouldn’t leave his side. 

“Okay, okay.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner and added "When you finally stop pestering me" like an annoyed parent would to silence their nosy child. 

"Okay, let’s go, move, move!" the bassist, Jeff, demanded excitedly, ushering them into the backstage area with animated enthusiasm. You clung onto Eddie as the rest of the band, with combined forces, led you two further into the backstage area. 

You spent the rest of the evening with Eddie and his Band, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, you snuggled against his chest. His friends welcomed you with open arms and treated you as one of them, as if you knew each other for years. 

As they settled in, the atmosphere turned light-hearted, and this group of grown up adults, famous rockstars, who had momentarily reverted to their teenage selves, cracked one bad joke after another. Eddie's friends wasted no time in sharing embarrassing stories from their shared past, tales that had long been hidden in the recesses of their memories.

Amidst the banter, they found joy in recounting youthful escapades, revealing anecdotes about Eddie that made him both blush and join in the laughter. The tour bus became a time machine, transporting them back to the days of awkward adolescence, with the added delight of sharing these moments with someone who had now become a part of their close-knit circle.

As hours slipped away, the scent of beer and cigarettes lingered in the air, and your adoration for the dorky, brown-haired guitarist only deepened with each anecdote shared by his bandmates.This became one of those core memories that etch themselves into your soul—a source of perpetual joy, belonging, and safety whenever you reflect upon it.

Even though you enjoyed the time you spent with the band, you longed for some time alone with Eddie. The earlier kiss lingered, leaving a sweet longing in its wake, the taste of him remaining on your lips. Each and every time you caught a glimpse of his lips, your heart seemed to skip a beat and a cozy warmth spread within you as the memory of his lips moving against yours flashed through your mind. And it was no different for Eddie. 

Gareth noticed the looks you shared, your nonverbal conversations, not knowing how to get away from the boys for some alone time. So he did what every best friend would do.

“Alright guys.” He clapped his hands, gaining everyone's attention. “I think we should give our lovebirds some time for themselves.” As he stood up, he winked at Eddie, who, in return, mouthed a relieved ‘Thank you’. Before you and Eddie left them, everyone hugged you goodbye, like you’ve always been friends. 

You stumbled out of the bus, still laughing and grinning like a teenager. The cool air of the night let shivers wash over your body, which Eddie noticed instantly. Like the gentleman he was, he put his jacket around your shoulders and placed a kiss on the crown of your head, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You pulled him into a tight embrace, never wanting to let him go, your fingers buried in his still sweaty shirt. But you didn’t mind. He was yours and you were his. That was all that mattered in that moment. His hands slowly wandered up and down your back, his fingers gently painting little circles on your skin. 

“I’d love to take you out on a date sometime. A real date.” With his hands cupping your face, he looked down into your eyes. His expression was soft, almost sad at the thought of leaving you soon.

You melted under his touch, a sensation you'd never experienced before. No one had ever made you feel this way, and dreaming of such a connection was something you'd never dared. Surprisingly, Eddie managed to make you forget about your self-imposed "holy oath" against dating again—a so-called no-date policy that now seemed nothing more than a ridiculous joke.

“Come on, sweetness. Let’s get you home,” he whispered after what felt like an eternity. Reluctantly, you agreed and sighed as he broke the embrace. Slowly, you walked back home, taking some detours to prolong the precious moments with him.

Beneath the cloudless night sky, with the moon casting its enchanting glow on the Thames, turning its surface into an ocean of little, shiny diamonds, you felt like you were living in a dream. The most beautiful dream you never wanted to wake up from. All the way back to the pub you talked about home, his tour, your plans for the future, and your plans for whatever that was you two had going on.

With a heavy heart, you sauntered through the small alleys, cast in the dim light of old lanterns, drawing closer to the pub where your little story began. Soon, you recognized the green and brown stained glass windows of the pub, illuminated by the fairy lights Poppy insisted on decorating them with. You knew that Poppy and Teddy would probably be worried about you since it was getting pretty late, but you still didn’t want to leave Eddie's side.

“Whenever and wherever you want,” you promised, giving him a reassuring smile. “I can’t wait to spend more time with you.” You reached up to him, your fingers combing through his soft hair, and gently kissed him again. Eddie's tensed body relaxed under your touch, and you thought you heard a soft moan leaving his chest as he pulled you closer to deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, a shrill screeching cut through the silence, abruptly interrupting your kiss. “Teddy! Teddy, they’re kissing! Oh my god!” Poppy’s excited voice echoed from the small balcony, where she must have been watching the two of you, causing you both to break out in laughter.

“I bet she won't give up until I tell her every single detail about tonight,” you whispered, placing another kiss on Eddie's rough lips.

“Please don’t give this old lady a heart attack with your lewd disclosure of our little romance,” he admonished in a playful way between kisses.

“Teddy! Hurry up! They’re kissing again! Oh, sweet, sweet young love!” her voice filled the air again.

“Jesus Christ, she’s worse than all of those pushy fangirls,” he joked, earning a laugh from you.

“Yeah, sure, Mister Rockstar.”

“What? Don’t believe me?” He looked down at you, something provocative flashing through his eyes.

“Well, maybe I would believe you if you take me to one of your shows, Mister Rockstar,” you winked back at him, a smug grin dancing on your lips before he could kiss it away.

___________

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[proxima-writes]

nothing else matters

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Word Count: 2,454

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Part 2 | Part 3

Summary:

It’s been a few months since Corroded Coffin has played at The Hideout. Ever since recording an actual album and having one of their songs picked up on the radio, they’ve been securing actual shows, with actual crowds.

But whenever they’re within fifty miles of good ol’ Hawkins, they drop into the grimy dive and put on a show. The crowds are bigger, with fans coming in from surrounding towns and cities, but there’s one constant he looks forward to every time.

The new bar owner. As of two years ago, crotchety old Hank finally sold the bar to the hottest woman he's ever seen.

Additional tags: rockstar eddie munson, blow jobs, semi-public sex, degradation, praise kink, spit kink, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, pet names

It’s been a few months since Corroded Coffin has played at The Hideout. Ever since recording an actual album and having one of their songs picked up on the radio, they’ve been securing actual shows, with actual crowds.

But whenever they’re within fifty miles of good ol’ Hawkins, they drop into the grimy dive and put on a show. The crowds are bigger, with fans coming in from surrounding towns and cities, but there’s one constant he looks forward to every time.

The new bar owner. As of two years ago, crotchety old Hank finally sold the bar to the hottest woman he’s ever seen. 

Eddie watches with you rapt attention as you put away the clean glasses and polish the scuffed bar top. When you turn, he gets a delicious eyeful of your ass and the way it’s hugged by the leather pants you’re wearing. Behind him, Garett grunts under the weight of the amp he’s pulled into the small side stage area. 

“Thanks so much for the help, Eddie,” he quips sarcastically, snagging a beer from the bucket on the floor of the stage. He flicks the cap off and raises it in a salute to you across the bar. 

Jeff trails inside, a case in each hand that he sets on the stage. His eyes narrow at Eddie. “Left the drums for you, buddy.” 

With a groan, Eddie heads out the side door.

———

It’s always a full house when the boys from Corroded Coffin come back to play. Which is surprising, given how much shit the town gave them for being different back when they were kids and teens just trying to play music and Dungeons and Dragons without being harassed. But most of the crowd isn’t even locals, but hardcore fans that have made the trip just to see the boys after finding out they’re hosting an “underground show”. 

Jim Hopper is here, though, showing his support under the guise of keeping an eye on El. You know he won’t admit it, but he’s proud that Eddie, who frequently found himself in the back of a police cruiser, is doing what he loves and staying out of trouble. You slide him a cold beer and he tips his head in silent thanks.

The rag tag group of kids that used to follow Eddie around in high school are crowded around a table as well. Dustin, Lucas, Mike, Max, El, and Will, now seniors, always try to make it to see their former Dungeon Master play. Especially since you don’t charge them cover and let them order as much pop as they want. Max makes eye contact with you and waves, making you smile. They’re good kids, and you’ve only ever had to throw them out once for trying to sneak alcohol. Once was enough, after facing your wrath.

Other than that, the small bar is full of strangers. Men dressed in black denim, leather, and chains, with tattoos covering any visible skin. Women dressed in tight pants and skirts, makeup done up and hair teased to perfection. They crowd the bar, putting you and the other two weekend bartenders to work as they order buckets of beer or the occasional mixed drink. 

“God, he’s so fucking hot,” a woman says, back pressed to the bar as she stands to face the stage. You follow her eyes and note her hungry gaze falls on Eddie, where he’s adjusting his mic stand and plugging his signature Warlock NJ series guitar into his amp and testing his chords. 

“I know, right? But I heard he never goes home with anyone,” another woman beside her laments, red painted lips pursed in a pout. 

“Bet I could change that,” the first woman replies, shoulders thrown back with confidence. She sets her empty cup on the bar and shimmies her top down to expose a bit more of her ample cleavage. She heads over to the stage and you watch as she taps Eddie on the arm and he leans forward, her mouth getting close to his ear so that she can be heard above the noise.

A hand waves for your attention and you move to the end of the bar, your unobstructed view of the exchange broken. You fill several orders back to back, making change and pocketing tips, before you notice that the woman is back at the bar, a sullen look on her face. 

“Hey, Hawkins, we’re Corroded Coffin, your local devil worshippers,” Eddie says into the mic, earning him a laugh from the crowd. You finish up serving more people, before tapping Mark on the shoulder and letting him know you’re taking a break.

“Got it, boss,” he says as he fills the ice well. 

You’re still getting used to that title. You bought the bar for dirt cheap from the former owner, Hank, because he was desperate to sell it, but not desperate enough to sell to a developer who was going to mow it down and build a strip mall on top of it.

“This place is a cornerstone for Hawkins,” he had grumbled. “I ain’t gonna let it get turned into some new age bullshit rock store or whatever.”

Once you’d gotten the keys, you’d replaced the grime covered floor, fixed the stage up, and gotten the place as clean as possible, while still keeping the character of the hometown dive bar that drew in town regulars and people passing through to Indianapolis. 

When Corroded Coffin started gaining popularity, so did the bar. People not only came to see them play when they stopped in during their tour, but they also visited the spot like it was a tourist attraction. Business was great, and was even doing well enough that you don’t even need to act as bartender most nights. 

Unless Corroded Coffin was in town.

You watch Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Frankie play their hearts out on your little bar stage like it were any other big time show they’d gotten to play the last two years. Eddie commands the audience’s attention, his deft fingers flying over the neck of the guitar as he sings into the mic, deep voice echoing over the speakers. His eyes find yours as he’s finishing up one of their original songs, and he winks, making you roll your eyes.

The song finishes and Eddie takes a swig of his drink before addressing the crowd. “Alright, last song. Tip your bartenders, assholes.”

The opening chords to Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters float in the air and you smile, leaning into the wall to watch. 

So close, no matter how far

Couldn’t be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters

It’s an interesting song to end the night with. The once rowdy crowd has settled, swaying with the slow tempo. It’s almost hypnotic.

Never opened myself this way

Life is ours, we live it our way

All these words, I don’t just say

And nothing else matters

With a sigh, you push away from the wall and weave your way back to the bar to join your bartenders before the post show rush of orders starts. The back of your neck prickles with the sensation of being watched, and when you round the bar to face the stage, Eddie’s got his gaze focused on you as he sings.

Trust I seek and I find in you

Every day for us something new 

Open mind for a different view 

And nothing else matters

You twist your ring on your finger out of habit as you hold his stare. He smiles at you as he finishes through the song. When the last chord fades and the crowd cheers, you grin right back.

——

Eddie’s been surrounded by people since he stepped off the stage and he’s finally getting a moment of peace to slip out the back door for a cigarette.

He’s patting his pockets in search of his lighter when a familiar voice asks, “Need a light?”

He nearly drops the cigarette from his lips when you step close to him, holding a lighter that illuminates your face in the otherwise dark and empty alley. He leans forward, pressing the cigarette into the flame and inhaling until it catches.

“Thanks. Seems I’m always losing my lighter,” he comments, staring down at you. 

“You’d lose your head if it weren’t attached to your neck, Munson,” you quip, leaning into his space. He laughs, smoke billowing around the two of you, creating a hazy little cocoon of privacy. 

He slips a finger into a belt loop, pulling you flush against him. He revels in the little gasp that leaves your lips, in the feel of your hands pressed to his chest. That anticipation of being in your orbit after circling each other all night is making his head spin. Your fingers tangle in the chain around his neck, tugging his neck down until his lips are brushing against yours.

“Heard you didn’t go home with girls from shows,” you tell him. His chest rumbles with a laugh. 

“I can always make an exception,” he growls before his lips take yours and you meet his kiss with a groan.

Eddie’s hands slide down your hips before reaching for a handful of your ass, pressing you further against him and making you let out a little gasp. His tongue slips into your mouth to dance with yours and you can feel the hard length of him through his jeans. Your fingers slide from his hair to trail down his chest until you reach his belt buckle.

His hand circles your throat, the cool metal of his rings pressing against the thin skin as he uses the grip to hold you where he wants, to explore the taste of your mouth to his content. You work the belt open until you can pop the fly on his pants, working the zipper down to reach in and palm his hardening cock. He lets out a delicious groan, his head tipping back against the wall. You take the opportunity to trail your lips across his neck, biting at his pulse hard enough that he lets out a hiss.

Satisfied with the state he’s in, you drop to your knees on the rough concrete, working his pants down just enough to be able to reach in and tug his cock out. Hand wrapped around his warm, thick length, you give him a couple of teasing pumps. As he looks down at you, eyes half lidded and dark with lust, he brings a hand to your chin, prying your mouth open and pressing his thumb down on your tongue. 

“Christ, sweetheart, look at you,” he says, the gravel of his voice making you clench your thighs together for some semblance of friction against your throbbing core. “How much of my cock do you think I can fit in this pretty mouth of yours, huh?”

“Only one way to find out,” you reply with a wink. He laughs, but the sound is cut off by a rough moan as you wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the crown and humming over the taste of him as it blooms across your tastebuds. His fingers tangle into your hair, tugging roughly as you pull him into your mouth.

When your nose brushes the light trail of hair on his stomach, he bites out a curse. “Fuck, angel, that’s it. Swallow.”

You do as instructed, your throat fighting against the obstruction and making your eyes water as you repress your urge to gag. He pulls his hips back and you take in a deep gulp of air before he plunges back in, taking over the motions and using your mouth for his own pleasure.

“So fucking good,” he says, head tipped back as he revels in the pleasure. Eddie holds your head away from his throbbing cock the next time you pull back and orders, “Open your mouth.”

You do as asked, sticking out your tongue. Eddie leans forward slightly, pinching your cheeks with one hand as spits onto your tongue before roughly pulling you back to working his cock. 

“Dirty fucking girl,” he tells you, and your head goes fuzzy at his words. It's a few more rough drags of him in your mouth befores he’s pulling back until just the tip sits in your mouth as wet heat explodes across your tongue. “Swallow it, baby, that’s it.”

You grin up at him and he pulls you up, rotating your bodies so that you’re pressed against the wall. Eddie makes quick work of the fly of your pants, shoving his hand roughly between your bodies and immediately circling your clit, fingers dragging through the wetness he’s caused.

“So fucking wet for a dirty alley blowjob, princess? Such a little slut,” he murmurs against your ear before biting roughly at the sensitive skin just below it, making your back arch and a whimper leave your lips. “Bet you’re gonna come so quick for me, huh?”

You nod, hands wrapping over his shoulders and holding tightly, fingers curling into his worn leather jacket. “I’m gonna–”

“That’s it, fuck, yes, just like that, baby,” he groans as your muscles tighten. He plunges two fingers into you with no warning, and that’s all you need to shatter. He works you through it, thumb circling your clit gently as his fingers pump to the rhythm of your hips working against his hand.

“Jesus,” you mutter. You bring one hand to his neck, trailing it lightly over the chain there until you reach the ring hanging over his heart. “You sure know how to show a lady a good time, Munson.”

“Always a pleasure to serve.” He grins, eyes bright even in the dark alley. “You like the show?”

“Mighty romantic of you to be playing our wedding song like that.”

His fingers toy with the ring on your left hand. A simple silver band he’d placed there two years ago that you haven’t taken off since. “Figured you might like that.”

“I gotta finish up helping with closing. I’ll see you at home?”

“I’ll help you out. I’ve only got three days before we’re back on the road, and I am firmly attaching myself to your hip the whole time,” he says, pushing your hair back from your face, cupping your cheeks reverently. “I love you.”

You go soft against him. “I love you, too.”

It’s tough, being away from him for so many long stretches at a time. But when he’s home, looking at you the way he is, a hand planted on the small of your back as you re-enter the bar, you can’t help but think - nothing else matters. 

[broke-art-girl]

"The Billionaire, The Rockstar and The Somebody." by Broke_Art_Girl

(Beta Read by @inthedarknessofnight )

Fandom: Stranger things

Summary: Y/N logs onto Tinder one night. Low class life is not for them. When they stumble across a profile with images of two men clearly in a relationship, they click on it out of curiosity... Before they know it, their signing a marriage contract with Billionaire, Steve Harrington and Famous Rock Star, Eddie Munson.

Words: 7k+

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Reader/ Y/N, Robin Buckley, Vickie Corroded Coffin.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54334972/chapters/137998927

[madelynraemunson]

pass the salt • e.m. smut

DAD’S BEST FRIEND!OLDER!EDDIE x FEM!READER

summary: you’re home from college and staying with your dad for the summer, spending as much time as you possibly can with him…and his hot best friend that you’ve never seen in your life.

authors note: okay have you guys ever seen those text posts like “when you say ‘daddy pass the salt please’ and your father and your man both reach for it” 💀💀 well this is inspired by that concept. also i went overboard and this is a LONG BOI

disclaimers — photo credits to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🫶🏼porn with plot, reader’s nickname is “sunshine”, reader has female anatomy, race unspecified, divider: @iluvpooks

NSFW — 18+ obv, porn with plot, daddy kink pls keep scrolling if it’s not ur thing, slight age gap (eddie is mid to late 30s, reader is in her early 20s), corruption kink, size kink, masturbation (m&f), p in v sex (protected), dirty talk, teasing, sexual innuendos, extreme flirting, eddie kinda being a perv, praise kink

The sound of breakfast on the griddle summons you downstairs.

Dad never cooks.

For as long as you can remember, weekends at your dad’s have always consisted of Lucky Charms cereal and powdered donuts. That tradition continued even after you started college.

Oh yeah. Someone is here, alright. Someone Dad desperately wants to impress.

Trailing after the commotion, your fuzzy pink slippers guide you down the wooden steps of your dad’s ‘bachelor pad’ and into the kitchen. And when you near the bottom of the steps, you can make out two distinct voices — one belonging to Dad, another belonging to someone who's identity is obscure.

“God, I fucking missed you, Jeff. Missed everyone so much.”

The smells of pancake batter, cigarette smoke, mint, and petroleum fuel reel you in, but not nearly as much as the sight of the man sitting on the opposite side of your dad. He's built, handsome with wavy brown hair, leather, black denim, twiddling a toothpick between his teeth as he listens to your dad speak with a smile on his face. That is, until you come into sight. It then that his intense focus circles in on you.

Funny. You don’t remember this friend. And something in your gut tells you that you won’t ever be forgetting him after this.

The stranger's grin curls into a wonder-filled smirk. You can feel your knees start to buckle.

“Uh oh. Looks like our shenanigans woke up Sleeping Beauty.”

When you get a closer look at Dad’s friend, you observe his faint brown beard — neatly kept and lightly peppered with some gray — delicious lips, shiny white teeth, and grooves along his laugh lines that would deepen with every theatrical cackle he belted out.

You can't help but freeze in your tracks as him and your dad continue on with their banter, reliving their glory days like it was yesterday. Man. What a damn dreamboat.

Your dad’s eyes light up with glee when he sees you.

“Hey, good morning, Sunshine!” Dad cheers. “Thought you’d never wake up. This is my friend Eddie. We were in that band together in high school. Come say hi.”

"Yeah, come say hi," Eddie agrees. feeding into the obvious tension in the room. "I don't bite."

The stranger laughs at his own comment as soon as he utters it.

There’s a charm — a magic — about Eddie that could only be found in Hollywood or the Big City. But of course, you didn't expect any less from Dad's supposed ‘Rockstar Friend’.

When your parents had you at 17, life went on for Dad’s band Corroded Coffin. And although he missed out on the ‘Sex, Drugs, and Rock&Roll’, Dad insists that tea parties and white picket fences were an ideal trade-off. Because — despite how things ended with Mom — it still meant a life spent with you.

You tell him your name as Eddie offers you his hand to shake. Electricity serges through you when your hand is enveloped by his firm, calloused one. Eddie smiles down at you, his presence all-consuming. It's almost as if he knows it. And as much as you were dying to, you resist the urge to fall into him.

Eddie's no better.

It takes everything in Eddie's power to keep his eyes above your collarbones, reprimanding himself with the utmost tedium. Because heaven knows he'd be TOAST if his best friend found out that Eddie thought that you were absolutely stunning — strutting around the house the way that you do, without a bra underneath that poor excuse of a sleep shirt — a sleep shirt far too tight for your own good. With tight, pajama shorts to match…

Of course, this is all an assumption…Not that he caught wind of it or anything.

“You know…” he mentions. “Your dad has told me SO much about little miss Sunshine.”

“Me, really?” is all you can say behind those fuscia cheeks.

“Really,” Eddie insists. “He never shuts up about you, darling.”

“Hopefully you’ve only heard good things,” you mutter faintly.

And instantly, your dad and Eddie share a laugh.

“Only good things,” Eddie assures you. He nudges your dad playfully.

Your dad doesn’t exactly deny the last part, basically confirming to Eddie that you’ve got a hint of spunk to you. The heat settles at your cheeks as you shy away from your father’s curious friend.

Taking note of how timid you’ve just become, Eddie furrows his brows.

“What — was that an implication that you’re not always good?”

“No comment,” your smile melts into an awkward one.

“Kept me on my toes back then,” your dad reflects with a sigh. “Keeps me on my toes now.”

“You don’t say…” Eddie smirks slightly, gaze panning back over to you.

Eventually your dad leaves you two alone, going into the garage to fetch something that he insists Eddie would like. But little did he know that such thing was already in the room, leaning…reaching into the fridge for some orange juice, not realizing its atmosphere caused your nipples to harden.

Eddie’s eyes proceed to follow you as you strut back to the griddle, flipping some hot cakes over before tending to your messy bedhead.

Eddie probably doesn’t know — or maybe he does, who knows? — that you feel him staring at you. It’s a burning gaze that practically impales you, but you’re too nervous to say anything. You’re better off pretending like it’s something you don’t notice.

You and Eddie continue to help yourselves to breakfast, enjoying the company of each other and your mutual silence. That is, until Eddie speaks up.

“Got some sausage for you if you’d like.”

“I’m sorry?” you sputter, looking up from your food.

Eddie shoots you a weird glance as he holds up some breakfast franks.

“Sausage?” he repeats. “Store was out of beef so I settled for turkey. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Not at all,” you clear your throat. “I love turkey sausage.”

“Okay, good,” Eddie chuckles, seemingly relieved at how quickly the situation had diffused.

“Cool,” you chuckle with him while taking some links to cook.

The silence returns once more and is replaced by the sizzling of the grill. It’s short lived, however, because soon, the man nearly twice your age speaks again.

“What’d you think I said?” Eddie circles back.

“Nothing, why?”

“You just looked stunned.”

“I just woke up,” you shrug. “My mind’s somewhere else.”

“I can tell,” he smirks. “Get that thing out of the gutter.”

The coming days paved way for some more innocent flirting.

…Like when you make sure to wear the shortest skirt in your closet when running Eddie his afternoon beer in the garage.

“Well don’t you look absolutely darling…” he says as he peers up from his guitar.

“Hehe,” you smirk connivingly. “Thank you!”

“You are so welcome.”

Eddie downs the liquid guilt along with his pride, watching you strut around…the hem of that pleated cotton fabric just barely covering the roundness of your asscheeks. And as you blush a rosy pink when you process his little remarks, Eddie can only clear his throat in arousal, fantasizing about just how badly he wanted to turn your other cheeks that very shade.

…Or when you come downstairs the next day to help Dad manually wash his car.

While he and Eddie are harassing each other with soap and that god-forsaken hose, you decide to join in on all the fun.

“Watch out, Sunshine,” Eddie forewarns. “You’ve just entered the splash zone!”

And with the intention of cooling you off on a hot summer day like this, Eddie teasingly sprays you with said hose, your white shirt becoming transparent when lathered with water. He could see everything. Your erect nipples. Your perky tits bouncing in the sunlight as you jump around in excitement. How glazed your oil-nnuendo’ed skin looked when glimmering in the sun. All as intended.

“You got me,” you surrender yourself to him. “You got me good, Eddie.”

And when you walk away, Eddie mutters slyly to himself.

“Yes, yes I did.”

…And then there’s dessert after dinner.

Eddie watches as you lick your popsicle, his fingers curling at his thighs in arousal as you retract the wrapper before enclosing your lips around the bright pink dessert. And he swears he’s going to blow his pants when he envisions the melted sugar shooting into your mouth with the swiftest hollowing of your cheeks, the quiet suction noise you make with your pursed lips forcing him to adjust the way he’s sitting.

…The final instance takes the cake.

“What’s your major?”

You’re in the home library grazing some of Dad’s old books and vinyls, talking to Eddie while your father gets ready for the day. Meanwhile, Eddie is perched at your dad’s desk, rolling around in his expensive swivel chair and occasionally doing some spins on it to make you laugh.

“History.”

“Sounds boring.”

“You just haven’t found a topic that interests you,” you point out.

“Mm,” is all Eddie says. “Maybe I will eventually.”

Eddie watches as you waltz around in front of him, following your movements with his eyes as you get onto your tippy-toes in order to grab some books on the top shelf.

“Oh my god!” you yelp.

Your plan to entice him seemingly fails when you graze a book that’s halfway off the shelf. It’s already flying off of its platform, headed straight towards Eddie's lap before you can even stop it.

Eddie catches it before any damage can be done, saving Dad’s old campaign book with the hand furthest from you and snaking the other around your waist to prevent you from sinking any further into him.

Phew. Crisis averted.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie,” you gasp in embarrassment. “That book has a mind of its own.”

“You’re fine,” Eddie laughs. “Can’t defy the laws of gravity. Sometimes it betrays us.”

You feel yourself burning up a fever. Excusing yourself from the room, you leave Dad’s library and make your way over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

But you’re nearly taken aback when you feel tight, calloused hands wrap around your hips, and like a feather it’s like you’re whisked away into the air, and soon your body is pressed up against the wall.

Slam!

Breathing heavily against each other now — chest to chest, lips so unbearably close you can smell the whiskey — Eddie draws you even closer to him. You both study each other intently. It’s like you’re waiting for the other to say something. Eddie does the honors and speaks first.

“I wasn’t born last night, doll. I was also your age at one point.”

———

To his own despair, Eddie touches himself later that night. Facing your room, he strokes his rock hard cock with his lotioned-up hand, running his thumb across the slit of his head, pretending it’s your tongue giving him a little tease like you did the popsicle.

“Fuuuck,” he grunts quietly. “You like when I fuck your throat, baby? Gonna suck me dry with that pretty little mouth of yours?”

You’re playing make-believe just as much. Because at the same time, in your room, you’re a drooling, pathetic mess, riding your wall-mounted toy to oblivion in your bathroom, legs trembling when the thick, veiny piece of silicone slams into the spongy part of your heat, initiating shock-waves all across your body.

“Eddie,” you find yourself blubbering. “EddieEddieEddieEddie…”

You both know it can’t be like this, but that was the mere thrill of it all. And when you both have overcome your peak, just one mere wall apart, the floodgates of guilt outweighs both your arousals the way it comes pouring in.

So, so wrong. But oh, so right.

You’re anticipating…waiting…aching for Eddie to make the next move.

He doesn’t.

“Going to the store again,” Eddie announces. “Hopefully this time they’ll have beef sausage. Need anything?”

Need you, is what you think. But you end up shaking your head, a part of you disappointed that you and Eddie won’t be able to spend some time alone together.

“No,” there’s defeat in your voice.

“Are you sure?” Eddie questions softly.

“Mhm,” you nod.

“Okay,” he gives you a grin, one in the form of a tight-lipped smile. “I’ll be right back. You be good.”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes.

——

Eddie leaves the door of his room open that night. Just a smidge. You end up following the sound of his TV that he’s placed at a low volume, making out that it’s Seinfeld just by Jerry’s voice and the laugh track.

Your heart skips a beat as Eddie laughs along with the show, shaking his head at a stupid joke. But he shifts his focus immediately onto you when he sees you at the doorway.

“Having some alone time tonight?” you ask him.

“Mmm…not by choice,” he responds. “Tuckered your dad out after dinner doing P90X.”

Eddie follows a crazy workout routine. He says that it helps with his stamina, especially when he does crowd work during his stage performances. Your mind can’t help but wonder what else he may be using it for.

You snort. “Yeah. Dad wasn’t what you’d call an athlete in high school.”

Eddie laughs at that too. Both you and him know that.

He then pats the space on his bed beside him. “Wanna come watch with me?”

Your stomach does a series of cartwheels when you process Eddie’s question. You know what’s bound to happen if you follow through. And it seems Eddie knows it too. Even if there wasn’t any sexual tension between you both already, the concept of it all would rub anyone that way.

But you still follow through with it. Just like Eddie knew you would.

“You comfortable?” Eddie asks you, eyeing you endearingly as you squirm around on the bed.

“Yeah,” you breathe.

“Good…” he replies, voice nearly at a strained whisper now.

You two watch the show in silence for a few minutes, exchanging commentary and pleasantries regarding the show every so often. It’s not too long after Eddie pulls a laugh from you that he starts closing up the space between you both, scooting himself closer…and resting his gruff palm over the base of your knee.

You inhale sharply as he does so. And evident by your refusal to pull away, it’s enough of a green light for Eddie to hike up further.

A soft moan escapes your mouth from the back of your flustered throat, but you bite your lip in restraint.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?”

You shrug sheepishly as Eddie continues to graze your thigh. Your breathing falters even more.

“Don’t be scared,” Eddie coos.

“I’m not,” you insist.

“Then what’s stopping you from getting on top of me? Hm?”

He’s in between your legs now, the rough material of his denim jeans riding up your sex, teasing your clit with every calculated rub against it.

“And riding my rock hard cock til those pretty legs give out?” Eddie continues. “I see how you’ve been looking at me, doll. It's all over your face how bad you want it.”

“The bed is squeaky,” you answer honestly. “And that headboard is a lost cause.”

Eddie puts the dirty talk on pause, squirming around to assess the guest bed’s squeak factor. When it checks out, he gives you an understanding nod. You giggle.

Eddie wastes no more time. You watch as he grabs one of the pillows on the bed and wedges it between the wall and headboard. He issues you a sly smile.

“Oldest trick in the book.”

You're back to fooling around shortly after, your aching core burning with lust as you pine for him.

“The boys at school ever touch you this good?” Eddie quips rubbing circles around your puffy, needy folds as you hopelessly cling to him out of pleasure.

“No, Eddie.”

“Didn’t think so.”

He continues to tease, gliding his fingers along your slit before slowly inserting two large digits inside of you.

His calculated pumps into your needy pussy are steady, a pace so agonizingly beautiful that it makes you squeal sweet nothings into the crook of his neck.

"Shh, baby," Eddie hushes you. "Your dad's gonna hear us. Gotta be quiet for me, mkay?"

Your hot, messy, and muffled sounds cease as Eddie soothes your quivering lips with his tender ones.

The wet sounds that ricochet and fill the room in tandem is almost enough to send him over. And Eddie is sure to communicate that… with an abrupt curving of his three thick fingers.

Fuck.

Needing him direly now, you tug helplessly at his pants.

“God, Eddie,” you whimper. “Just fuck me already. Please.”

Eddie laughs at the desperation. He hasn’t ravaged you to his fullest extent yet, and you’re already a pooling mess beside him.

“Well since you said please, sweet girl,” Eddie obliges as he starts to undress himself. “Your wish is my command."

You watch Eddie as reaches over into the bedside drawer for a fresh box of condoms. Looks like the sausage links weren't the only things he went to the store for.

“Oh.”

Eddie chuckles at your observation before shrugging. Can you really blame him? You both knew what was coming.

You watch with absolute lust as Eddie slides the piece of rubber over his long, girthy, throbbing cock. He’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had before, and the snarky, hooded-eye smile as he watches you fawn reveals to you that he knows exactly how to use it.

"On your stomach, babygirl. Will have you all nice and pounded out just like you wanted.”

You situate yourself in prone and spread your legs for Eddie to line himself up against them. He teases his wrapped cock against the entrance of your pussy, and when his soothing countdown is over, your lips part in disposition as you accommodate his ruinous stretch.

A throaty moan spills out of the both of you the moment Eddie snaps his hips in and out of you. Meanwhile, one of his hands lays tauntingly at your stomach, so the prideful man can feel himself wriggling inside you, glazing his shaft with your slick more and more with every pump into your weak cunt.

"Fuck, Eddie... yes..." you mewl. "R-right there, Eddie, please..."

And then it picks up. You can feel Eddie’s hips practically collapse right onto you, his balls slapping against you as he digs further into your body.

"God damn..." the man sighs in disbelief.

He can only beam down at you in awe. You were taking him so good, pussy swallowing him so nice and tight. And when you nestle your ankles between each other to keep him there in prone, the nearly cries out in pleasure, but refrains because he knows your dad is resting — just a thin wall over.

That still doesn’t stop him from going to town though. Practically seeing stars, the broken record of a mouth that belongs to you chants Eddie’s name like it’s all you know. Eddie attempts to keep you contained, offering you his fingers to suck on as he’s railing you dumb.

And when he fucks you through your climax, Eddie continues with his string of lust-filled praises, satisfied at himself that he was able to make you wet enough to soak the mattress.

“Did so good for me, angel,” he praises you as he sucks at your temple. “Always knew you weren’t all that innocent.”

The griddle comes out again on Eddie’s last day. But this time, for a homestyle southern dinner.

You and Eddie were on mashed potatoes and gravy duty at the stove, an ordeal that only opened doors for lots of innuendos on Eddie’s part. Meanwhile, Dad insisted on making the rest, having taken pride in continuing his Mama’s legacy.

“This is amazing, Daddy,” you rave. “I really missed this. Do you mind passing the salt, please?”

And to your horror, you watch as your father and Eddie automatically extend their arms, bumping into one another in the process en route to getting you the salt.

The gentlemen meet each other’s eyes.

“Ohp!” Eddie exclaims, letting out a slight chuckle. “Sorry.”

You try your hardest not to blush. Eddie kicks you from under the table, and softly he oh-so-seductively he mutters,

“I was just tryna help her out.”

[taintedcigs]

i slept with someone from corroded coffin and all i got was this stupid song written about me.

ROCKSTAR!FBOY!EDDIE X READER

summary: fooling around with a famous rockstar who's a notorious playboy sounds perfect on paper, until you catch feelings for him. that's why you decide to end things, to not get your feelings get hurt, and its all going perfectly, until eddie releases a song, written all about you.

warnings: smut, p in v, MINORS DNI!!!!, pet names, praising?, lovey dovey, kinda angst and arguments, drgs & alcohol mention, swearing? idk this is kinda cheesy n cute with a mix of fluff sprinkled honestly!

author's note: the indented parts are texts between steve and reader and thenn reader and eddie. they look confusing as fuck im sorry i just wanted to make them look unique but they look stupid. also yes. i patted myself in the back after i found this title (thank you fob). and yes the lyrics are inspired by i don't care im on a fob kick sue me! and ofc fboy!eddie isn't actually that much of a fboy bc if i can't write lovesick eddie ill die. this is super cheesy so i still struggled a lot but UGH. not proof-read ignore all mistakes

also credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts! (i changed them but still!) and @saradika for the dividers! pls like + rb + interact w me in anyway to support my writings!! ty!!

DINGUS sent you a spotify link. did you listen to this? yeah. its kinda romantic. no. the lyrics are insane. n all about u okay? are u at the party rn? yeah. u comin? soon he’s there too u already knew that, didn’t u?  false accusations r rude, steve.

You click your phone off with a groan, but he was right. You couldn’t stay away from him, and maybe, just maybe, this was your way of running into him, accidentally. 

Because ever since he released the song, the tabloids had gone crazy with it, half of the lyrics screamed you and all of the old headlines pointed at you, the mystery girl Eddie used to be seen with, and you really were growing tired of seeing your name next to “Munson’s new girl.” 

Because you weren’t his new girl, you weren’t his anything. He was a cocky asshole who was good with a guitar and was even better at fucking. And that was something both of you could relate to, the only thing you had in common with him. Or, so you thought. 

But of course, as with everything else, the things between you changed, you started staying over, he started staying over, and the two of you even went on fucking dates, disguising them under ‘we were just hungry, is all.’ 

You tried to keep up the cool girl act, like you could fuck someone and not catch feelings. Every inch of you itched not to care, to act like it was all fine, but it was all fucking bullshit, you cared, so fucking much that your chest ached. The more you got to know him, the more you fell for him, and the more you fell for him, the more you realized there was no fucking way this would work. 

Cocky rockstar who spent more time doing drugs than sleeping, with girls all over him? The imaginary red flag bells rang in your ear, even now. He wasn’t looking for a relationship and you knew that. That’s why you ended it two months ago. Or at least, you started ignoring him two months ago. 

Yet, he had been calling and texting you, wanting to meet up, drunken slurs of nonsense, gibberish voicemails, and yet you never answered, because if you did, you knew you’d be back to pathetically swooning over him.

Until today, just because of that stupid song, like it meant anything. That douchebag probably wrote songs about every girl he fucked. 

You weren’t special. 

Another ding sound from your phone almost startled you, the contact name made you groan even louder. “don’t FUCKING answer.” That didn’t mean shit. It was just something stupid to make you feel better that you couldn’t stay away from him, because you knew, deep down that if you really didn’t want him to contact you, you would’ve deleted his number, and blocked him. You were too chicken shit to do that, and still desperately wanted to hear from him. 

So you settled on that contact name. Like it made a difference, like it changed anything. 

DONT FUCKING ANSWER did you listen to the song?

Don’t fucking answer. The contact name should be enough to convince yourself that.

Too late.

                                                                   no. don’t lie to me, sweetheart.                                      ��                                     why would i lie?

You sink into the couch, a much quieter corner of the party, not even bothering to socialize. Your brows furrow, index finger flying to your lips anxiously, as you chew on it to patiently wait for an answer.

You sip on your drink with a nervous gaze on your screen, barely noticing the way the couch sink further when someone else took a seat next to you. 

“Hi.” The gravelly voice pulls your attention away from the screen, making you set your drink aside as you look up, finding yourself face-to-face with him. 

Shaggy bangs cascade onto his forehead, and with your exaggeration, it looks longer than the last time you saw him. Black jeans cladded with chains. A graphic tee messily thrown over his heavily tatted chest, that you could still imagine right about now—pathetic. He looked just about the same, the deep dimple adorning his soft cheeks had seemed to disappear, wearing a scowl instead, that tiny voice in your head told you that was your doing, that maybe he was just as miserable as you. Maybe your feelings weren’t fully one-sided.  

Shit. 

“Eddie?” Squeaky, and annoying, you were sure that’s how your tone sounded, yet he didn’t seem to comment on it.

“‘m glad you remember my name, sweetheart,” he scoffs sarcastically, leaning further into the plush couch, elbow propped at the side, eyeing you with frustration. 

“W—what the hell are you doing here?” You stutter as if you weren’t expecting to run into him. Full of bullshit. 

“Did ya really think you could ignore me forever, huh?” He tilts his head slightly, almost expectedly, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t ignoring yo—”

Eddie tuts quickly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that cuts through the ambient noise of the party, “I thought we said no more lies, huh?” 

With a huff, “Why are you here, Eddie?” you mumble.

“Am I not allowed to party?” He banters, brows slightly raised, making you huff out an exasperated breath, your eyes bore into him, almost to signal him ‘Take this seriously.’

“I wanted to know what you thought.” He shrugs like it was normal to just come running after everything just to know what you thought of the song. 

“The song?” He nods in confirmation.

“Didn’t like it,” you confess, avoiding his gaze, but your brows betray you, lifting ever so slightly.

He tsks, shutting you off quickly, “You see that little quirk your brow did? That only happens when you lie, you can’t help it. You do that when I ask you if you ate the last pizza slice, or when I ask if you watched the next episode of the show we were supposed to watch together, or when you—” 

“Fine, fine! I liked it,” you groan, interrupting him and suddenly standing up from the comfort of the couch, being so face-to-face with him immediately making your nerves bubble.

“Just liked?” He tilts his head slightly, a smirk curving on his lips. 

A deep sigh of breath, “what do you want, Munson?”

He stands up with you, making you back away from him with a heavy footstep, the entire party was too loud and crowded, yet, in this stupid corner, it was just the two of you. “For you to admit that you loooved the song, and how much you missed me,” he sing-songs, taking a step closer to you, musky smell invading your senses, making you take a deep breath.

Both of you stand near the wall, and it should be awkward, it should be enough to make you leave, but all it does is draw you closer to him.

“You’re annoying.” 

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I wasn’t avoiding—” He tuts, with his stupid index finger up, rejecting your lie.

“I—I don’t know what you expected.” You shrug, so nonchalantly that his gaze narrows, chest aching with the implications of your words.

“We both knew this wouldn’t last forever, didn’t we?” You chew the inside of your lip to stop those tears that had been begging to flow ever since you listened to the song, wiping off that smirk on Eddie’s lips. 

“Would’ve been nice if I got a reminder, and not have been just fully ghosted, huh?” The brunette grumbles with a downturn of his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“Oh, don’t act all high and mighty, isn’t that what you do all the fucking time?” you snap, gaze narrowed, and arms crossed against your chest. 

“Fuck girls and then leave them? Did it crush your ego this fucking much that I did before you could?” 

“What the fuck does that mean?” He retaliates. 

“It means I was smart enough to pull myself away from your bullshit,” you rasp, disdain written all over your face.The room seems to shrink as the distance between you decreases. 

Another step closer to you, and you didn’t realize your back had hit the wall now. “My bullshit? God, that’s fucking rich, if I seem to recall correctly sweetheart, you were in this as much as I fucking was!”

“Oh, was I?” You bark out a chuckle, cruel, mocking, “I don’t remember being okay with you fucking half the city.” Realization of how bitter and jealous that sounds, dawns on you much later than the words leave your lips, and thankfully, Eddie’s too fucking immersed to realize the double meaning of your words. 

“Are you fucking kidding? No strings attached! Non-exclusive! That’s what you fuckin’ signed up for!” His voice echoes, mirroring his frustration, and you open your mouth.

But he doesn’t let you speak further, cutting you off sharply. “Is this all because of that new guy you’re seein’?” 

“What? What guy?” 

“The one who was all over you earlier,” he bites out, jaw clenched, and you can almost taste his bitterness in the air.  

“The same one you fucked at Jeff’s party.”

“Are you stalking me, Munson?” 

“Did you just want an excuse to end things? Are the two of you serious or somethin’?” His voice wavered between anger and desperation, gaze pathetically searching for yours, to gauge your reaction.

You scoff. Did he really think you’d end things because of a stupid fling you had which in the first place occurred just so you could forget him? He was so goddamn clueless it drove you insane. 

But what you didn’t realize was that you were just as clueless, if not more, because why would he write a song all about you, if this was just about sex? Because who would get so jealous of someone they didn’t care about? 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

The lyrics from his stupid song swirled your thoughts, yet you were still too stupid to see it, weren’t you?

Another step closer to you, a dangerous game the two of you liked to play. He smelled alluring, a fucked up mix of nicotine, his musky cologne, and that damn leather jacket. “Do you really think, he could compare to me, sweetheart?” 

Say my name and his in the same breath.

“Tell me he’s fucking better, and he’s actually what you want, and I’ll fucking leave, I’ll bury all the other songs I wrote, tell me, and I’ll be out of your hair forever.”

I dare you to say they taste the same. 

And just like that, all the defenses you put up, all the times you ignored him, they are cracked, disappearing into thin air. You hate it, you hate that he has this effect on you, you can feel your mind getting hazier, eyes blinking rapidly to process what the fuck is going on, and his face is mere inches away from yours. You knew their names didn’t taste the same. And you knew he could never ever compare to Eddie.

“Tell me,” he encourages, dares you to. You fail to notice how much emotion his gaze carries, how the corners of his lips twitch, just at the thought of you finally admitting you don’t want him. His stomach turns at the thought, this is his last chance, he knows that, and he can’t fucking lose you. He can’t. 

And you don’t know any of that, but you knew, know that no one else could compare to him. And you hate yourself for thinking that, you hate yourself for falling for him, the world stops rotating on its axis when he’s in your peripheral vision, and it’s fucking disgusting. Pathetic. Stupid. Because you know the two of you have no chance. But here you are. 

“H—he is b—” Of course, your brow quirks up almost immediately, betraying you quicker than you can even attempt to lie. 

That dawning smirk appears on his lips again, it’s mocking, and just as much smug. You want to wipe it off of his stupidly pretty face. “Tell me,” he dares you, again. This time much cockier and confident, and you suddenly realize how small you feel under him.

“He isn’t,” your meek voice is barely audible.

And you don’t register the shaky breath he draws when the words leave your lips, giving him the confirmation he needs. You wanted him, he had no fucking clue why you ghosted him, yet you still wanted him. Just as much as he wanted you. 

Both of his hands were placed on the wall now, towering over you, making your breath get caught up in your throat. “Speak up.”

“No, fuck! You know he’s not, you know he could never fucking compare to you, you fucking know tha—” He shuts you up with a rough kiss, lips pressed against yours messily, letting the petty comments die down your throat. Because this is all he wanted, needed to hear anyway. 

“Up,” he grunts into the kiss, tapping your thighs, hoisting you up from your waist to help you wrap your legs around him, tight, he wants you at his mercy, locked to him. 

You wrap your legs around him, barely, the melty sensation in your knees making you so shaky that he barks out a laugh into your lips, holding you close, firm, the butterflies in your stomach traveling all across your body.

He lifts you up as if you are weightless, arms wrapped around you strongly as he carries you to the nearest empty bedroom, impressively without hitting your back anywhere, so roughly that your core throbs at the feeling of his arms around you.

“Baby,” he mutters as he lowers you down on the bed swiftly, smooth, gaze darkened and pupils blown wide, all the pent up desire waiting to explode. 

“Eddie,” you beg, shaky voice sounding purely angelic to his ears once he got rid of his shirt, shrugging it off with a huff, his fingertips grazing against your top, feeling your hardened nipples, causing gasps out of you, he’s quick to pull it over your head while you run your fingers up the grooves of his stomach, the tip of your fingertips almost burns everywhere you touch. 

He groans at the sight of your bare breasts, “missed thi-you,” he corrects himself, because that’s all he wanted anyways, you. 

He nips at your nipples, tongue good at giving attention to both of them, all wet and warm, making you squirm under his touch, you’re quick to get rid of everything else, leaving you in your panties, making him grunt. 

The pad of his thumb rubs against your left nipple, leaving goosebumps in its wake, while his other hand travels down your chest, then your stomach, finally drawing circles when it stops between your thighs, ghosting over your panties before he tugs them down your legs, spreading them apart with a slight hum, pupils blown so wide that you can’t admire those chocolate hues anymore. 

He visually drinks in that sight of you, laid down on the couch, eyes squeezed shut, back arched, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re completely at his mercy and his chest aches with need. “So pretty like this f’me,” he coos into your chest, pushing his middle finger inside of you. Making you feel so good that you can’t stop the gasps coming out of your lips.   

Pleasure shivers through everywhere he sucks and touches, his finger eases into you when he adds another one, a moan escaping you quickly. “Need to be in here, sweetheart, d’ya have any idea how much I missed this?” 

You don’t. You don’t know about the sleepless nights, the drunken ones, the drug-induced ones in an attempt to recreate the high you gave him. It’s fucked up, it’s insanely toxic. Yet, he can’t get enough of you. 

His gaze upon you is dangerous, maybe it’s because he had missed you so goddamn much, or maybe because he didn’t know where this would lead, but it felt fucking sentimental, different somehow, and he could feel you, everywhere on his skin.

Your hips start rocking up against him when the pad of his thumb flicks over your clit, making you arch your back, whines, mumbles leaving your lips. And all he can muster is, “so goddamn beautiful, look at you whining for me.”

You can feel his bulge rub against your thigh every now and then, it’s distracting, almost agonizing. You desperately need it inside of you, you had missed him, missed his touch, missed the feeling of him filling you to the brim, you missed seeing his face contort in pleasure when he was inside of you, you wanted him to never forget you again. 

That’s why you feel so numb, can barely speak, and of course, Eddie notices, how unusually quiet you are, and he wants to make this unforgettable, just so you have another reason to come back to him. Just so you don’t leave him, just so you stay forever. 

“Gone too quiet on me, honey, tell me what you need,” he coos down at you, thumb still caressing your pussy, and all you can fucking do is chew down on your bottom lips, eyeing his bulge that was begging to get out. And he barks out a goddamn chuckle, “P—please, Eddie.” Pathetically leaves your lips. 

And normally he would make you beg, tease further, but he reaches to tug down his pants quickly, because fuck, he had missed you. And he can’t bear the thought of not being inside of you any longer. 

Thinking is not your strongest suit right now either, your brain is mushy, all the nights and days spent thinking about him, about this explodes into your body. Your pussy aches when you finally see his cock again, a sound of need leaving your lips as you eye his length, so big that pleasure ripples through you, especially when you see his gushy tip, glistening with pre-cum. 

You want every fucking inch inside of you, and Eddie’s more than ready to oblige, “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

“Need you, Eddie,” you moan, all fucked out, his fingers slip in and out of you still, but it isn’t enough for him. He needs more, he craves your validation like he never has before. 

“God, you’re soakin’ my fingers, princess,” he grunts, wedging himself between your thighs, weeping cock drips onto your inner thighs, making you moan breathlessly. “Tell me exactly what you fuckin’ want, honey.”

“Eddie.” His name sounds like silk, even when it’s so lewd, Eddie decides, and it makes him let out an impatient huff. “P—please. Need you to fuck me.” It’s so goddamn desperate that you can feel heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s everything to him.

“Want you to fuck me like you mean it.”

“Oh, that’s easy, sweetheart,” he grunts, lining his cock through your entrance, coating himself in your slick, enjoying your mewls before he doesn’t hesitate to push his cock inside of you, inch by inch, relishing the way you cry out for him. 

Greedily, you rock your hips into him, making him let out a frustrated groan. “Have no fuckin’ idea how much I missed this greedy cunt, sweetheart, shit.” He thrusts in a few more inches, and breathless moans and babbles of his name fill the air.

“Suckin’ me right in, baby, fuck, you’re so pretty like this, mhmm.” His cock moves inside of you, and your hands are wrapped around his back, desperately clawing at it, the fullness making you want more, “you like that, baby, like bein’ full of me?” A heavy sound leaves his lips, pathetic and you pulse around him. 

“S’so good Eddie, and s’big,” you barely manage to let out, and he watches you with that burning amber gaze, thrusting all the way in without hesitation. Those plushy lips that hang open, that filthy mouth, the prettiest fucking features—you, were going to be the death of him. 

Maybe it’s because you had missed him, or maybe because you hadn’t experienced this in a long time, or fuck, maybe, just maybe that the song had created a new type of need between the two of you. Using sex as a sort of connection that the both of you desperately needed. But, shit, was it this different this time. 

He felt different—his lips, touch, skin as it slapped against yours, it was different. 

Full. You feel so fucking full that your back involuntarily arches against him, fingers clenching desperately, your screams and cries filling the room the more he plunges inside of you, deeper, hungry, and just as greedy as you. 

“Yeah, better than that asshole?” It rolls off his lips so bitter and jealous that you can barely register it. Not being used to this possessive side of him, and it’s glorious, especially when he’s pounding his frustrations and insecurities into you. 

“Mhmm, so much better.” You clawed at his back, every thrust of his hip making you feel higher and higher, mind filled with nothing but him. 

“So pretty like this when you say my name, sweetheart… so goddamn beautiful, and all mine, yea?” He wants a confirmation, and wants to hear you say it, his head ducking between your breasts again to kiss, taste, suckle them. Make sure he never forgets it. 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He hums, the vibrations reverberating through your chest straight into your core, cock plowed so deep inside of you that you can barely speak through your cries, hitting that sweet spot that every other asshole misses. 

You’re too scared to give him what he wants. But you feel him, everywhere, and you still want more, of course, you’re his. That’s all you fucking wanted anyway. Plushy lips shake as you gaze up at him, his amber hues are so sticky-sweet that you still struggle to process it, words come out in a ramble “All yours, Eddie.”

His mouth crashes onto yours roughly, desire coursing through both of your bodies, almost interconnected. “Shit, fuckin’ hell sweetheart, ‘m not gonna last long.” His thrusts are getting sloppier, yet you feel the ravaging desire coursing through your veins. 

“So perfect,” he murmurs, the kiss he lays on your lips just as relentless, not letting you breathe or think for a goddamn second, you’re so goddamn close.

And you wonder, how the fuck did you even go two months without this? Without him?

“Eddie!” You cry out once you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing against your clit, eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washes over you. Pure bliss overtakes you while you claw at his back, his body tenses, and cock flexes as he cums inside of you, groans and curses left in your hair. 

Minutes pass of you lying next to each other, breathless, processing everything that just transpired. And you should feel guilty, embarrassed, and should run to the hills for doing this with him again. 

But you’re obsessed, addicted. He’s like an excitement that you’re sure you’ve never felt before, running through your veins, like a fucking drug. 

Both of you get dressed in silence, the party booming outside is quick to bring the two of you back to reality, and out of the trance that he pulled you in. 

He breaks your bewilderment with a slight “Fuck.” Standing on the opposite side of the bed before he fully turns to you. “This wasn’t—I was supposed to talk to you.” He mutters, fingertips anxiously running through his tousled hair.

Caught off guard and awfully curious, you mumble, “About what?”

“The song…”

“I told you I liked it.”

His brow furrows deeper, and he shakes his head in frustration. “No, that’s not it—uh, did you not listen to the lyrics?”

“I did.”

“And?”

Your face searches his for some clarity, you take a step closer to him, the distance between the two of you was still awfully much according to him. “What are you asking of me, Eddie? Did you really think one song would just solve everything?”

“You don’t get it, do you?”

“W—what am I supposed to get Eddie? You wanna have your cake and eat it too! And I just can’t fucking do that, not anymore.”

“That’s—that’s not it!” His voice wavers, with urgency, and desperation in his tone. He takes a step forward, attempting to bridge the emotional gap, feeling so fucking frustrated that he wants to rip his hair out.

“Then fucking explain it to me!” You plead. 

“You want an explanation, fine! Fucking fine!” His frustration echoed through the room, pacing back and forth, making you take a deep breath. 

Was he… actually gonna do this? 

“You wanna know what the fuck I’ve been doing ever since you ghosted me?” He ran a hand through his hair, scared, gaze all mellow and vulnerable in a way you have never seen before. It makes your shoulders slump when you nod. 

“I go to those stupid Hollywood parties, meet asshole rockstars—the most interesting shit, yet somehow someway the thought of you will pop up in my mind, uncalled for, might I add, and then I can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop thinking about you the whole fucking day.” Your eyes widen, trying to absorb his revelation, yet he won’t stop rambling and you feel your chest tighten with each word, fuck, he’s finally doing it.

“I—I never—shit! I never thought myself capable of feeling things like this, but fuck, you came along, with that goddamn smile, throwing a manicured middle finger right in my face, a—and just put up with my bullshit.” His voice softened, and he couldn’t help but trace the contours of your face, to desperately know if you were on the same boat, and you look at him with such glistened eyes that his heart leaps to his stomach. 

“My world flipped upside down, and you have proven me, so goddamn wrong that I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore!” The tears almost welled in your eyes, because, fuck, there was no way this was real.  

You reached out instinctively, the corner of your mouth twitching uncontrollably. “E—Eddie, please… please stop saying things you don’t fucking mean.” 

“Things I don’t mean?” He gives you a breathy chuckle, ironic, and nowhere near funny. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching. “Do you think I like feeling whatever the hell this is? I fucking don’t, you have me acting like someone I’m so unfamiliar with, to the point where it scares me. All I can think about is you, you, you, because you occupy every single space of my mind.” Your eyes soften, the room seemingly pulsing with his emotions, making you feel hot everywhere on your body. 

He felt the same way.

Eddie felt the same way. 

“B—but fuck I’m scared, honey, I’m so goddamn scared,” He admits, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through the tension before he’s at your side, calloused hands grabbing you by the shoulder, so softly that you melt into him.

“Because what if—what if all of this comes crashing down one day?” His voice trembles, gaze avoiding yours, he was scared, so goddamn scared of losing you. Forever. He doesn’t want that, he couldn’t afford that. 

“Just two months away from you fucking sucked. I didn’t—I don’t wanna feel these things, but you make it so hard not to.”  His forehead rests against yours, making you suck in a deep breath, it’s all so fucking sentimental, and all you wanna do this kiss him, tell him you feel the exact same way. Tell him about your fears. 

“And now I can’t fucking stop, fuck,” He confesses, admission punctuated by a frustrated sigh. 

“I wrote you a song,” he gently caresses your cheek, and you’re so scared to look up at him, to meet his tender gaze, because you know you can’t hold yourself back. 

“I came over to this party in a frenzy when I found out you’d be here,” he continued, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. “I—I just I haven’t even been able to touch another girl.” Your eyes snap open, you’re sure they’re almost heart-shaped now, with the adoration you look at him.

“And, do you actually fucking think I'd write songs for just anyone—” His question lingers in the air before you shut him up with a kiss, rough, sweet, and making Eddie feel dizzy all over, his head struggles to comprehend it all, breathless but he manages to react just in time.

The booming music becoming a mere background noise when he had you, mind swirling with all the possibilities and mouth begging to never stop tasting you. He wants to let you completely engulf him, feel you everywhere.

Everything he wanted and more.

He fucking hates himself for doing this, but he pulls away, mesmerized, eyes so wide that you can’t believe this is Eddie, he’s all flustered, salmon pink. And it makes a wider grin sit on your lips. “So… you—uh, what does this mean?”

You smile at him, lips widely stretching into a grin, as you shrug. “It means I feel the same, Eddie.” you admit, tone a tender reassurance. “That’s why I tried to shut you out… to try to move on, because I was scared—fuck, but I feel the same way.”

“So, does that mean we're dating now?”

“We can take things slow, figure everything out?” you mutter with a shy gaze, lips itching to twitch into a smile, again. “But I—uh—I like you, I really, really like you.”

“Gone soft on me already, sweetheart?” he mumbles with a stupid grin, making you elbow him softly, with an exaggerated playful huff. 

He’s quick to flinch, rubbing his arm as if you even delivered a powerful blow. “Ow—what the hell is wrong with you?”

“You think I’m going soft? You’re the one who wrote his feelings as an exaggerated love song!” 

He leans further slightly, his grin widening when you gave him those adorable eyes, finding you both equally amusing and endearing. “Oh… just you wait.”

You arched a brow, curiosity piqued, “What the hell does that mean?”

“The album is coming out soon, sweetheart. If you think this was an exaggeration, you should hear the whole fucking thing.”

That glint re-appears in your eyes just as quickly, gaze softening as you melt into his embrace.

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.” You tease, scrunching your nose at him, so adorably that he leans down and presses a gentle kiss onto your hair.

He's an idiot, a total complete fucking idiot, but he's all yours.

[tiannasfanfic]

White Wedding

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

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

Rating: Explicit 18+

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

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

Word Count: 1,953

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You bite your lip as you grin up at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[aphrogeneias]

in plain sight — one-shot

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x assistant!reader, rockstar!steve harrington x assistant!reader (one-sided)

summary: corroded coffin has a substitute drummer for the last dates of their stadium tour, and he's everything eddie dislikes, but his aggravation towards the drummer turns into something more when he starts getting a little too close to you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (+18), secret relationship, jealousy, possessiveness. steve isn't a bad guy but eddie sees him that way. bathroom sex, exhibitionism, finger sucking, fingering, unprotected sex.

author's note: this is based on a request by the lovely @thornsnvultures and i went a little overboard with it <3 oops.

As the house party raged around him, Eddie was not enjoying himself.

Everything was bothering him. The way the railing was digging to his back as he slouched back on it, his beer was getting warmer by the second, the buzz of whatever he'd smoked back inside long gone. He was in a mansion in Bel Air, overlooking the hills, celebrating selling out one of the biggest shows of his career yet, but he felt miserable.

If you were there, you'd tell him he was being dramatic, but that was exactly his problem — you weren't.

It was the last leg of the tour and you'd been beyond busy, busier than usual. Being their tour manager’s assistant, you had to be everywhere with Rick, and Rick had been working nonstop to make sure everything was happening accordingly. You'd been traveling back and forth, working late, helping the supporting bands as well.

Eddie was proud of you, but he missed you like hell.

What was bothering him the most, however, was not your absence, but the presence of someone else. See, Gareth had pulled a stunt that had cost Corroded Coffin their beloved drummer — a stunt that involved a risky jump and a hotel pool, and ended in a broken arm and a mild concussion.

They had to hire a substitute drummer, and Steve Harrington came with good recommendations, and a reputation to match. He'd played with multiple different glam metal bands in the past, and while that wasn't the band’s usual style, they were desperate and on a tight schedule. Steve and his excessive hair routine would have to do.

Except that Eddie couldn't stand the guy and his show-off attitude. It was one thing to demand attention on stage, something he was acquainted with, but he was constantly surrounded by people, talking loudly, making demands and getting on his nerves.

The worst was when you were around, which was — and Eddie had never thought he would even say this — thankfully not much.

Eddie understood, believe him. Being near you was tempting enough, and he knew he wasn't the only man, or woman, who felt this way in your presence. It didn't mean he was okay with it, especially when he couldn't publically stake his claim on you.

You were his, even if nobody knew. If he had his way, the whole world would.

Whenever you were able to be around, Steve was all over you, claiming he needed help adapting. He always needed a favor or two, all of which Eddie doubted were really a necessity. You smiled and obliged, as always. It made Eddie’s blood boil, the way he always seemed to stand a little too close to you, running a hand through his hard and batting his eyelashes at you.

Regrettably, it also made Eddie feel like a hypocrite. Before you were together, that's exactly what he would do to get your attention, and he still does — asking for favors only to have you all to himself, sneaking you into an empty room to spread you out on the nearest surface, to feel you close.

The only difference was that Steve had no right to, whether he knew it or not.

Eddie made his way back inside of the house, grabbing a bottle of whiskey that was left half full on the rail near him. He took a generous sip as he watched the scene developing in front of him. Steve sat in the middle of the couch, surrounded by their guests, a groupie in each arm, and they hung onto his every word.

“Hey, man!” From the other side of the room, the drummer waved him over with a smile, and a cigarette hanging on the side of his lips. “Come sit with us!”

The guitarist waved back, but with no intention of following through. Just then, two people walked in the front door. An older man in a brown coat and a woman on his arm, and right behind them, you. A vision in a fur coat, the one he got you while in Europe, and the knee high boots he loved so much.

Your eyes met through the crowded living room, and he fought the urge to run to you and hold you tight, lift you in his arms and make you yelp as he squeezed you tight. Neither of you moved, though.

There was a slight movement of your head, a discreet nod he knew well. Later.

Another nod. Another swig of the bottle on his hand. Later.

Watching you move around the house, mingling with the guests, making the rounds by Rick’s side was torture.

Sweet, sweet torture. Following your hips with his eyes, swaying as you walked. Watching your lips wrap around the bottle of beer handed to you by another man, the lipstick print left around the neck that he wished was on him.

He was getting tipsy, and probably obvious with his constant staring. Not that he cared, really.

Time passed as he did his own socializing. Fellow musicians, big shot executives, journalists trying to get a piece of him. Always one eye on you.

Distracted with making small talk with the guitarist from another band, he almost missed you passing right beside him, bumping delicately into him, and carefully placing a hand on his arm.

Just a small run of your thumb over his skin had him folding.

Eddie excused himself, following you to the most crowded part of the living room, where everyone was too distracted by the loud music coming from the big loudspeakers near the wall, or too under the influence of something or other to care who's around them.

The light was low, your eyes glowing under the black eyeliner around them, seeing right through him from where you stood, resting your body against the wall.

“Hey.”

The shy smile glistened on your pretty lips. He desperately wanted to kiss it off. Instead, he just answered, “Hey, you.”

He got closer, close enough to brush your body with his, watching your thighs fall open for him to fit between them. His lips laid a soft kiss on your cheek, and you turned slightly to nuzzle his nose with yours.

He was finally able to breathe.

“Are you okay?” Watching him closely, your eyes ran over his features. “What's got you all pouty like this, huh?”

Your hand caught his chin, pinching it between your fingers, squishing his lips together. He held your wrist in a reverent palm, removing your hand and kissing your fingers.

“‘M tired, and I missed you.”

You squinted at him. “That's not all, though. Is it?”

He sighed, long and still a little irritated. “Steve is getting on my fucking nerves.”

“I knew it.” You smiled, triumphant. “Why didn't you tell me earlier?”

“You knew it?”

“Baby, you are too obvious. Everybody knows, even Rick and he's stoned most of the time. Lucky for you, Steve doesn't seem to care, or if he does, he doesn't let on.”

You had an amused look on your face, lips downturned comically as to imitate his own. Eddie couldn't help himself, and leaned in to bite your cheek, playfully growling as he did it. Stop it, you cried out, pushing him off of you.

“I don't care what he thinks. I'm just glad he'll be gone soon.”

“What is it about him that has you all worked up, anyway?”

Your question made him mentally start listing all of the reasons the drummer got him like that. Center of attention, cares too much about his looks, tries to steal his girl. The last reason was the main one, but he wasn't about to tell you that.

Instead, he points to the couch where he's still sitting, soaking up on the attention he's being given. Glowing under the gaze of the adorning crowd around him. “Look at him,” Eddie rolled his eyes, and forgot for a moment how exasperated he was when you giggled, leaning in close, “seriously! We're not that kind of band.”

“Are you saying you're not a band of handsome guys?” You purred, wrapping your arms around his neck, trying to look your sulking boyfriend in the eye.

“That's not what I…” He huffed, eyebrows pinched, full-on pouting. “You think he's handsome?”

“Now it's my turn to say that's not what I meant.”

Eddie pulled you further into the corner, frustrated that he could only hold you like this in public in dark corners, hiding you in plain sight. His hands pulled you impossibly closer by the waist, and turned you so that your back was pressed against the wall.

His lips traveled lazily over the soft skin of your neck, taking in your scent, the taste of sweat and smoke and something uniquely you, biting on the sensitive place where your neck met your shoulder. He wished he could hear the sweet sounds he was pulling from you, but the deep bass coming from the nearby loudspeaker kept them from him.

“Don't want to talk anymore.” Eddie mumbled, kissing up your neck again, leaving wet kisses in his wake. “Want you.”

Pulling on his curls, you made him look at you as you giggled again, and for the first time that night, Eddie forgot what was bothering him in the first place. You leaned in to kiss him, smiling into his lips, “You started it.”

You stay like that for a moment, savoring each other. Stealing a taste or two, each kiss made sweeter by the urge of a borrowed moment. When he was just starting to push you against the wall a little harder, hands grasping your waist with unbridled need, you pulled away.

Eddie tried his best not to show his frustration, lowering his forehead to rest on your shoulder. Lovingly, you ran a hand over his hair, “I need to make the rounds a little more, and then we'll be outta here, ‘kay? We can leave together, we'll figure out a way.”

“I hate this.”

He didn't need to say more. He knew you understood.

“I know.” You whispered, and kissed his temple, making him sigh. “I don't like it either, but you got me for the rest of the night. I promise.”

You had to part ways, again. The promise of later still hung in the air, thick like molasses.

Trying to disguise his growing frustration, Eddie let himself be dragged outside by his friends, who were always trying to find a way to make drinking games more extreme with each passing party.

He stood to the side until he grew bored again, antsy with thoughts of you, knowing you were just in his reach. When he came back inside, he froze right in front of the glass doors.

“What the fuck?”

The aggravated mumble slipped out, along with the last thread of his self-control.

Steve was finally able to corner you. He'd left behind the girls that were all over him earlier to talk to you, standing in the middle of the room. You were smiling politely as he gesticulated, likely telling you a story with the intention to impress you.

Eddie was not impressed, not in the least.

He was already making his way towards you, his feet working faster than his alcohol-addled brain, when he saw Steve reach for you, putting a hand on your arm. It was an innocent touch at first glance, just a run of his thumb over your bicep, but the drummer was getting closer, lowering his gaze.

Your expression was guarded, but you were caught by surprise when Eddie reached you. Eyes widened as you caught his tight, forced smile, already putting one hand on the small of your back.

“Harrington! Steve, buddy. Do you mind if I steal Miss Y/L/N here for a moment?” He said, already pulling you away. He'd be damned if he waited another second. “I need to discuss some last minute details about the next show.”

“C’mon, man! We're in the middle of a party. Work can wait.” Steve argued, trying to get you back.

“Can't argue with a creative genius. Sorry, Steve!” You chimed in, allowing yourself to be led in the direction of the stairs.

Eddie could tell you were trying not to laugh as he guided up the stairs and through the hall, filled with people too high to notice the two of you, and another couple practically fucking against the wall next to one of the bedrooms. He pulled you in the first bathroom, but not before taking the bandana off his pocket and tying it around the golden door handle.

Busy. Please, do not disturb.

As soon as the door was locked, he pressed you against it, needing to feel your body against his. “What was that, Eddie?”

His hand went to the back of your neck, eyes blazing, set on your face. “I can't fucking stand it when he thinks he can get close to you.” Lips lower to touch the sensitive skin of your neck, delivering rough kisses, raising goosebumps all over your body. “Put his hand on you. You're mine.”

Between a heavy sigh, you whine. “He doesn't know, baby.”

“I don't care.” He was doing too much at once, but it's not enough. His hands were everywhere — on your waist, down to your hips, under the swell of your breasts, wandering over the soft fabric of your dress. His mouth abused your neck and collarbones, leaving his mark behind with tongue and teeth. “I’ll tell him. Let’im know you're taken.”

“Yeah? Gonna tell him I'm all yours?” Eddie lifts his head to meet your gaze, and he's faced with the little smirk growing on your lips. “Tell him you own me?”

He knew you were teasing him, but he was not in the mood for that. “Goddamn right, I do.”

You're given a bruising kiss, then. Full of meaning. It says mine, mine, mine. Your mouths moved frantically, your lips sucking on his tongue, his teeth sinking on your bottom lip. Pushing and pulling and taking.

One of the hands that were on your waist traveled up to your chin, pulling your mouth away from his, and replacing it with two of his fingers, which you take willingly, spreading your pretty lips open for him. “Suck,” he ordered.

Without breaking eye contact, you sucked on his fingers, making a show out of it, narrowing your cheeks and lavishing them with your eager tongue, making him throb in his tight jeans. His other hand lifted your dress up to your waist, and lowered your panties to rest down the curve of your ass, just enough for him to feel you with his now spit slick fingers.

He found you soaked. “You like this, don't ya? You like it when I tell you you're mine, baby?”

It was hard for you to answer with those thick fingers filling your dripping cunt, up to his ringed knuckles. You clenched around him and tried to grind yourself on him, wanting more. “I like being yours.”

“My girl.” He purred into your cheek, kissing you again. Taking no time warming you up, because he knew you could take him, he moved his fingers with precision, relishing in the wet sounds that you made just for him while you worked on his belt and zipper, pulling his jeans down.

Eddie made quick work of the rest, asking you to jump when he grabbed your ass and lifted you up to wrap your legs around his narrow hips. He didn't waste a second longer, pushing his cock inside you, letting out a long exhale as he bottomed out.

“Move, Eds, please.” You tried to push him impossibly closer, boots digging into his lower back. “I need you.”

“I'm here, baby. I've got you.”

He let all he was feeling out in his thrusts. His frustrations, the longing he felt being separated from you, his need to possess you. To make you his, even though you already were. He slammed your body into the door behind you, shaking it with the way he was drilling his cock into your needy pussy, sucking him in.

As he did that, he thought about how the entire corridor must be hearing you. The noise the door was making, your perfect, loud moans over the music that was already lowered downstairs. He reveled in it, grasping and grunting while he pounded you into next week.

“That's it, honey. Let them hear.” He ran his mouth, already feeling that familiar pull on his heavy balls, slapping your ass with each stroke. You weren't that far behind him how you were creaming all over him, dripping down his thighs, digging your nails on his back. “Scream for me. Let them know who's fucking you this good.”

“Eddie!” It took another grind of his hips against your swollen clit to push you over the edge, gripping tight as you came. He buried his head on your neck as he chased his own high, delivering a brutal pace that was surely to leave you bruised the next day.

Neither of you cared. They were just another reminder of who you belonged to.

Your boyfriend almost crushed you to the surface of the door when he came, holding you tight to him as he caught his breath. You clung to each other — Eddie kissing every spot of you he could find, and you with your hand buried in his wild hair, running your fingers over his scalp.

When everything went still, he breathed you in, taking in your scent, feeling your pulse under your heated skin. Finally in his arms, wrapped all around him.

“I wasn't going to let him do anything, you know that, don't you?” You murmured. “I only want you.”

“I know, baby.” He smiles softly, meeting your eyes. “I'm the one who needed a reminder.”

“I think we reminded the whole house.”

You were telling that more to yourself than to him, and he knew how shy you were. “Here's what we're gonna do,” he reassured you, “you're gonna leave first, I'll follow you outside, and we can have my apartment all to ourselves all night. How does that sound?” He finished his proposal with a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect.”

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie's rejection made you question your own hopes and dreams, but the consequences were even more dire for him. (3.6k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, homelessness, depiction of alcoholism, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter three: turn the lights back on

Eddie left during Dad’s shift on Friday. Over the years, there were more than a handful of guests who’d put up a fight when check out day arrived, but he wasn’t one of them. 

When you’d inquired about his departure, as nonchalantly as you could, Dad only said that Eddie had signed the log and walked off without any formal goodbye. 

“What time?”

“Six-thirty, or thereabouts. No later than seven.”

Almost as if he’d waited for you to clock out. Purposely avoiding you.

You shrugged off the thought, chastising yourself for taking a harmless coincidence so personally. Maybe he had to be somewhere early or wanted to beat the rush hour traffic. Maybe he didn’t even take your presence—or lack thereof—into consideration. 

He did, however, swipe the blanket from his bed, leaving behind just the pillow and a rumpled sheet. Disappointment wove its way through your veins at its finality. He was simply another guest, another face stored in the depths of your memory with some many other one-timers. 

Making a mental note to replace the blanket before the summer crowd arrived, you stripped the remaining sheet and pillowcase and made the bed with clean ones. The fabric was so worn that it was nearly transparent, barely concealing the litany of stains that decorated the old mattress. 

Eddie didn’t appear to have added any to the collection. That was something, you supposed. 

Your Friday and Saturday evenings were always spent the same way: watching groups of friends traipse up and down the boulevard, laughing at jokes that were only funny because everyone was on the right side of tipsy. Rain or shine, teenagers could always be counted on to frequent the local bars and liquor stores that didn't bother to check for identification.

Sundays brought the usual sense of existential dread; the week ahead was daunting and the week prior was a blur of exhaustion. A new guest checked in, an older woman who’d missed her flight out of LaGuardia and needed a place to stay until the next plane took off in the morning. You almost put her in room four, the key temptingly dangling from its hook, but you plucked the one for room three instead. 

And then Monday arrived, baring its ugly teeth in a menacing grimace. It exhaled a rancid puff of morning breath, the same smell that belched from the bus’s tailpipe. 

Backpack sagging low with the weight of overpriced textbooks, you dragged yourself towards the bus stop. Your only reprieve is that today marked the last week of classes. All that remained after that was finals week, and then you were done. 

The typical small collection of commuters greeted you in traditional New York City fashion: tired half-smiles with a respectful lack of eye contact that you reflexively reciprocated. One of the older men sat on the bench, but the normally empty spot next to him was occupied by none other than Eddie Munson. He kept his guitar case safely clenched between his thighs, his garbage bag suitcase leaning against his left leg. 

Curiosity nudged you and wormed its way into your thoughts. Where was he going? Was he staying at a different motel, one that had cable so he could watch MTV whenever he needed? 

Or maybe he was en route to Port Authority so he could high-tail it back to not-New York, to his hometown where people considered it polite to strike up conversations with strangers.

Wherever his destination was, it was no longer your problem.

If he noticed you, he gave no indication. His vacant stare never left the ground, vaguely looking up one time to light a cigarette. He cupped a hand around the flame, blocking his view of you. 

It was probably better that way.

The bus hissed as it pulled up to the stop and the doors hinged open to let passengers board. Would he sit next to you? Would he position himself as far away as possible? Or was he wholly indifferent, regarding the exchange as out of sight and out of mind?

Taking a seat towards the back, you searched for him in the sea of faces. You could apologize, explain you were only trying to help and never meant to embarrass him, and the two of you could part ways knowing that you didn’t look down on him. 

But there was no sign of the frizzy curls that he wore like a crown, no guitar case inching into the aisle. For all intents and purposes, this bus was an Eddie Munson-free zone.

A disappointed ache settled in your chest and you massaged your sternum in hopes of alleviating it. When the driver turned the wheel away from the curb, you caught a glimpse of Eddie through the fingerprint-smudged window, sitting on the bench just as he had since you’d arrived. 

Except this time, he was looking directly at you. It was intentional; he’d seen you waiting at the stop and waited until conversation was an impossibility before daring to glance your way. 

He averted his gaze the moment your eyes locked onto his. It was so fast that you worried that you’d imagined it. A sleep-deprived hallucination, even. 

You didn’t stop looking even as the bus left the stop. You watched him toss his cigarette butt to the ground and crush it with the sole of his sneaker. You watched him take another one and place it between his lips. You watched trembling fingers dig into his jacket pocket and take out the lighter once again. 

He was out of sight before you could see a spark. 

Excitement hummed through campus, a live wire that electrified even you. It was hard to ignore the end-of-semester buzz, especially with the sun warming the air in a soft spotlight. 

Other students sat on the quad, blankets tucked underneath them as they ate lunch with friends. Their mouths moved in conversations about exam cramming and upcoming parties and post-graduation plans. You wanted to bottle their lightheartedness and carry it around with you, dipping into it when life got too serious and dabbing it on your pulse points like perfume. 

Fluorescent bulbs replaced the natural light as you walked the hall towards the classroom. You slid into your usual spot and placed your bag on the adjacent chair to reserve it for Nora. Until she arrived, you’d be left alone with only your thoughts to keep you company. 

Great. 

The memory of the other night, of Eddie’s sullen expression and the way his lips hardened into a frown, was a stone in your stomach.

How could he think that you pitied him, looked down on him for his circumstances? Wasn’t it obvious from the motel’s disrepair that you weren’t exactly living in the lap of luxury either? And yet, he’d perceived your attempt at an alliance as some sort of enemy threat. You wanted to shake his shoulders and yell, “we’re on the same team!” but it would probably just bounce off of his MTV-obsessed brain without him ever processing it. 

Eddie’s reaction wasn’t the only part of the confrontation that bothered you. No, what really drove you to the brink of insanity was that the confrontation bothered you at all. 

How many guests were snippy or even downright mean to you over the years? How many had raised their voice over the most trivial matter? You had lost count of the number of times someone had spat the word ‘bitch’ in your direction because of low water pressure or a lightbulb that needed replacing. 

And yet, this is the instance that grated at you, had you wondering if he’d looked away from you this afternoon out of disdain, guilt, embarrassment, or some combination of the three.  

It shouldn’t have even mattered. So what if he hated you? He was out of the motel, which meant that his problems were no longer your concern. 

The click of the door being wrenched open forced you out of your thoughts and back to reality. 

“Last week of classes!” Nora trilled with a wide grin. She practically skipped to your side, slinging her backpack over the wooden chair back. “Then we have finals,” she contorted her face in disgust before resuming her excited disposition, “and then we graduate!”

She plopped down in her seat, adjusting her body to face you. “That reminds me; we should probably figure out where we’re going to meet before the ceremony, because I am not sitting through that alo—what?” She frowned when you flinched, the realization setting in. “Nonono, don’t tell me you’re not going.”

“Sorry,” you offered half-heartedly. The pen markings on your desk suddenly became incredibly interesting, and you rubbed your forefinger over them in a feeble attempt to end the conversation.

As usual, Nora refused to accept defeat. “Still haven’t told your parents?”

“Not yet.”

“Well, you’ve got two weeks.” She clapped you on the back a bit too harshly, her lips pinched with an edge of impatience. “Time to put on those big-girl panties.”

She meant well–she always did, doing everything in her power to encourage you to pursue the career you wanted. But she just didn’t understand the mounting pressure to be what your family needed, or how you were constantly towing the line between selfishness and dignity. One step in the wrong direction and you would either crush your parents’ dreams or your own. And while there had to be some gray area there, it was overshadowed by the polarizing categories.

“I’ll try.” 

You won’t.

You spent the class forcing yourself to listen to the professor, jotting down notes every so often when you could remember to do so. 

Paying attention to lectures, final papers and exams, the graduation ceremony–it all seemed asinine when you considered your failure to help people on the most basic level. Like with Eddie: as hard as you tried to emphasize the mutual benefits of him working at the motel, you’d still inadvertently offended him.

When were you going to learn to stop extending help to people who weren’t asking for any? In these situations, you tossed logic aside to make room for emotion. It had been that way since you first began to understand that answers to life’s problems were seldom clear-cut. 

There was one day in particular, where rain fell in sheets and your only option was to play indoors. You were jumping rope in the lobby, excitedly counting along with each skip.  

“Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty—”

The rope smacked against your ankles, but you were too distracted to feel the sting. Your eyes were glued to a man who was stumbling towards the front desk. He wobbled in his whiskey-drenched cloud, mumbling something incoherent under his breath before collapsing to the ground in sudden hysterical sobs.

“Everything okay, sir?” Dad asked. His inconspicuous hand motioned you towards your room, but you froze in place. It wasn’t fear so much as shock that a grown-up was having a temper tantrum. 

The man didn’t answer; instead, he took a swig from the brown paper bag clutched in his hand. Amber liquid trickled out from between his lips as he cried, and he slowly pushed himself up and out the front door without acknowledging anyone else’s presence. Raindrops pelted down on his head and matted whatever hair was left on his head

“Why was he crying?” You’d asked Dad, the jump rope now all but forgotten. “And what was in the bag?”

Dad gave you a small smile and did his best to explain the adult situation to a child. Even now, you remembered him talking about how drinking alcohol can make people feel happy, sad, or angry. He omitted the fact that all three emotions could occur in the same person, in the same moment, but your eight-year-old mind wouldn’t have comprehended that anyway.

Ever inquisitive, you continued asking questions. “But if it makes him sad, why doesn’t he just stop?”

“It’s not that easy,” Dad said with a tight grimace. 

You’d considered his response for a moment, eyes lighting up when you conjured up a brilliant idea. “What if we go in his room and throw out all of his alcohol!” You tugged on Dad’s hand, expecting him to reciprocate your enthusiasm, but he’d stayed where he was and shook his head. 

“Afraid it doesn’t work that way, kiddo. He’s gotta want to stop drinking first.”

It hadn’t made sense to you then, and though you’d learned about the nuances of addiction as the years crept by, it didn’t do much to quell your frustration. Any solution being beyond your control was a piranha ripping into your ambitions with its razor-sharp teeth.

The Eddie situation gave you that same helpless feeling. If you could turn back the clock, you would have done something different. You weren’t sure exactly what would be different, but it would almost certainly be better than your spur-of-the-moment offer last Wednesday. 

But since time travel was out of the question and Eddie was no longer one of your guests, both he and his problems were out of your hands.

If only your heart could accept that.

A reel of your shortcomings played in your mind on a continuous loop; it still gnawed at you as class was dismissed, the professor calling out a reminder about final paper submission while you and Nora walked out the door. 

“Are you okay?” She frowned and put out a gentle hand to bring you to a stop. 

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

She wasn’t falling for that lame excuse, not when something heavier than sleep marred your face. “Seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Do you ever feel like you’ll never actually help anyone?” 

The words came out in a rush before you could curtail them. Wincing, you allowed yourself a peek at your friend’s expression. Confusion knitted her brows together, but her arms stayed at her sides. 

“What do you mean?” Her words were soft and careful, distinctly absent of judgment or condescension. 

A monologue of response was lodged in your throat. It was a thought you held inside, silently rehearsed but never dared to speak aloud:

Are we really going to make a difference? Or enough of a difference that it even matters? Like when you see a homeless person and you give them some money, or buy them something to eat. And you feel good for a split second, because now that person isn’t going to be hungry for a little while, right? But then you pass by another homeless person. And another. And you realize that, to them, it doesn’t matter that you helped someone else. Because those other people are still hungry.

You said none of it, swallowing the words and replacing them with a, “never mind, I’m too in my own head today.”

Nora nodded, not wanting to push too hard, but you knew she was teeming with questions. She offered a small smile that told you the conversation wasn’t over, just paused temporarily. 

A nod of your own sealed the compromise. 

The rest of the afternoon played out without a hiccup. Lunch was your usual greasy sandwich from Niko with a side of his irritated banter, this time about the price of gas. 

“You girls think it won’t affect you because you take the bus,” he warned, finger wagging between you and Nora, “but just watch them hike up the fare. It’s only a matter of time. Especially with those new card things you gotta use.”

His fears were unfounded, at least for the moment, and you and Nora each dropped $1.25 into the coin slot. 

“About what you said earlier,” she started, finding space to wrap her hands on the pole, “we don’t have to talk about it—”

“Please.”

“–but I need to tell you one thing.” Her eyes held firmly onto yours. “If anyone’s gonna make a difference in this shitty world, it’s you.”

The compliment should have illuminated you from the inside out; instead, it was a firefly’s light, barely bright enough to cast a shadow with its pathetic flickering. You ached to believe her, but it was impossible to imagine that the same person who wouldn’t tell her parents a simple truth could also change the world. 

“Thanks.” One word compounded with a forced smile, and the truce snapped back in place. Weighing potential conversation topics, you settled on the most neutral–the final paper for your class–and launched yourself into it with as much enthusiasm as you could summon for the remainder of the ride home.

There was no overt sign of Eddie when your bus pulled up to the stop. Not at first. The only indication of him was a familiar mint-colored blanket tightly wrapped around a lump laying across the bench. 

It wasn’t until you stepped off of the bus and got closer that you could make out the curly brunette tendrils peeking out from the top, the blanket rising and falling with each breath he took. His face was hidden and his eyelids were screwed shut in fitful sleep, allowing you to hold onto the false hope that it wasn’t him, just someone with a similar build and hair texture. Even the frayed hems of his jeans and his scuffed sneakers sticking out from the other end of the blanket could have been a coincidence. 

But there was no denying the truth once you caught a glimpse of the guitar case being hugged to his chest.

Just keep walking. Stop trying to fix things that you didn’t break. Things that didn’t ask to be fixed.

Your conscience trumped logic once again as two fingertips gently pressed against his blanket-wrapped shoulder.

“Eddie?”

His eyes flew open in an instant, revealing the delicate red lines that scarred the whites and meandered towards his brown irises. He clenched the guitar case even tighter as he jolted upright, protecting it like it was his child, and the sudden movement sent a handful of empty beef jerky wrappers floating to the ground. 

Sunlight streamed through the glass panes, fragmented where it had been shattered by a rogue baseball or perhaps the crown of someone’s head, though you would have heard about it if it was the latter. It backlit him in an angelic glow, a halo comically contradicting his bitter expression.  

“Fuckin’ shit–don’t scare me like that!” 

The gentle, rhythmic inhales and exhales were long gone, replaced by a frantic fight-or-flight panting that flared out his nostrils. His hardened jawline softened a bit once he’d fully clawed himself out of his sleepy haze and realized that the person in front of him wasn’t a threat, just a nuisance. 

“I told you; I don’t need your charity.” His lips set into a scowl and he laid back down on the bench, tugging the blanket back up to his chin.

That’s it. Conversation over. Go home. 

“You certainly need my blanket, though.” Raising one eyebrow, you thumbed at the thin material to make your point.

Eddie only doubled down, sitting up once more to ball up the blanket and toss it in your direction. “Here ya go. It’s all yours.”

You caught it with one hand, the loose threads tickling your forearm. 

“That’s not what I meant.” A hiss of air passed through your teeth. This was the perfect opportunity to leave him behind, to go somewhere you were needed and wanted. He had been making it abundantly clear that he’d rather live outside than spend another second with you. 

And yet.

“I’m not just gonna let you sleep out here.” Tone thick with insistence, you mustered up all of your determination. The blanket was now tucked beneath your underarm and sopping up the pooling perspiration. “And it’s only a matter of time before you get mugged. With that thing,” you gesture to the instrument still in his grasp, “I’m surprised it hasn’t already happened. So you can either stay at the motel and re-wallpaper the lobby or you can kiss your precious guitar goodbye.”

Fire burned behind your eyes as you spoke, each word adding kindling. You couldn’t tell if you were doing this for his safety or your own pride, but both led to the same outcome.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just scraped his top teeth over the dead skin on his lower lip, drawing a speck of blood that went unnoticed. You stayed silent, too, the weight of his impending decision anchoring your tongue.

Finally he nodded, slowly at first, then faster as desperation seeped in, but he remained steadfast in his refusal to meet your eyes. 

“Fine.” Eddie’s breath was shaky, teetering on the brink of tears, but none fell. “Just until I find a paying gig.” 

He grabbed the neck of his guitar with one hand and pressed on his knee with the other. Fixing his posture, he stood tall in hopes that no one walking by would equate him with the pitiful mess who had been sleeping at a bus stop in a stolen blanket.

“Okay,” you agreed with a quiet breath, a cautious smile playing on your lips as the two of you walked back to the motel. You stayed two steps in front of him, leading the way. 

He could turn heel and run. He could back out at any moment and you’d never see him again. But when you unlocked the door to room four–Eddie’s room–he was still behind you.

“I can take the blanket back,” he said, motioning to the bundle under your arm as he stepped over the threshold and into the room.

Like a phantom appendage, you’d forgotten it was there. “No. I’ll get you a fresh one.” You shook your head, finalizing the matter. 

“Okay.”

No hesitation. No argument.

Maybe there was a chance you could actually help him. Maybe you didn’t ruin everything you touched.

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[masterofmunson]

slipping through his fingers

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Ex!Reader AU

Summary: You’ve only wanted the best for Eddie, even if that means you’re no longer in his life. 

Word Count: 5.4k+

Warnings: language, ANGST ANGST ANGST GALORE (I’m so sorry) with a happy ending

Author’s Note: this has been brewing in my drafts for a week. I’m so excited for you guys to read this! Just a few notes: this takes place in 1991 so Eddie’s 25 and the reader is 24! Also listen to love of my life by harry styles to get the full angsty experience. Please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think! Enjoy xoxo 

The moment you step into the bar, you realize how much you regret agreeing to go on a double date with Annie, her boyfriend, and their friend they’ve been wanting to set you up with for the last several weeks.

The bar is way too crowded. You just want to go home and watch some trashy show before going to bed. Your day was especially long today at the hospital and the last thing you wanted was to sit in a crowded bar packed like sardines.

You know you can’t get out of the date. You can’t even pretend to be sick when your best friend knows it’s a fat lie. You just don’t want to be here in this shitty bar with shitty beer and shitty food.

Biting back the sigh threatening to spill from your throat, Annie drags you by the hand through the sea of people to a high top near the stage. She pulls away when she sees Malcolm sitting beside who you can only assume is your date for the night. You hate to admit it, but he’s incredibly handsome.

He’s muscular with thick arms and a broad chest. His face has a perfectly manicured beard and he has the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. His hazelnut-colored hair is styled to perfection and he grins when Annie approaches.

Trailing behind her, you watch Annie kiss Malcom’s cheek affectionately and you stand awkwardly beside a chair. Heat creeps up your ears when the handsome stranger waves at you and you feel like the smile you try and fake turns into a grimace instead. You were already getting off on the wrong foot with this man.

Annie shrieks your name and pulls you towards the table, effectively towards the man across from you. “Seth, this is my best friend,” Annie introduced the two of you, grinning like crazy. You watch the handsome stranger —Seth— stick his hand out for you in a kind introduction. You shake his hand delicately and slide into the chair beside him, facing the stage. You shrug off your jacket and rest your purse on your lap.

“I’ve heard a lot about you!” Seth yelled over the music with a smile. “You’re a nurse, right?”

You nod in reply and glance over at Malcolm. He hops off his chair and hurries over to the bar, ordering drinks for you and Annie. “Yeah! How do you know Annie and Malcom?” you asked over the music.

“I’ve known Malcolm since we were kids. Annie’s doesn’t really stray far from him, as I’m sure you know.”

You smile at his answer and laugh, nodding along. They’ve been together for three years now. You try not to remind yourself of the time when they first started dating. It was the worst time of your life, having gone through an awful breakup.

“Thanks for humoring Annie and meeting me. I know you would probably rather be anywhere but in a crowded bar waiting for a band to play with a guy you just met.”

“There’s a band playing tonight?” you asked, sipping on your beer. “Annie didn’t tell me.”

Seth grins. “Yeah. It’s some heavy metal band Malcolm and I have been listening to over the last couple years. They’re really talented and they’ve gotten really successful.”

You laugh, quirking a brow at him. “Are you one of their groupies?” you teased.

A soft blush covers his cheeks and he ducks his head down to hide his smile from you. Seth runs a hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck bashfully. He shakes his head. “No, just a big fan.”

“What’s the band called? Should I start listening to them after tonight?”

“Corroded Coffin.”

You choke on your beer and the wind is knocked out of you. Seth’s eyes widen and he rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Your head spins and you tug at the neck of your blouse, attempting to relieve the tightness in your neck. Your breathing sputters and you stumble off your chair. Annie’s brows pinch together, worry etched across her face.

Grabbing your purse, you hurry through the crowd towards the bathroom. Annie yells after you as you storm into the bathroom, clutching at the counter. The door pushes open and Annie stands in front of you apologetically. She smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of her neck.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was going to be here performing?” you asked her with a frown.

“I knew if I told you, you wouldn’t want to come on the date,” Annie admitted.

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t,” you hissed. “It’s been three years since I’ve seen him and you know how bad our break up was.”

“I know, but like you said, it’s been three years. You’ve moved on, Eddie’s in your past. Can you please come back to the table? Seth really likes you.”      

You let out a childish huff and roll your eyes at your best friend. Washing your hands, you leave the bathroom and return to the table. You didn’t care that it’s been three years since the last time you saw Eddie. Every now and then your mind wanders back to him if you let yourself reminisce on the past.  

You wonder what he’s been up to over the last three years. When you were together, the band started to take off. They performed at bars and clubs across San Diego nearly every night until a music producer offered to sign them to his record company after one of the sold out shows at a nearby theater.

You were ecstatic, thrilled that Eddie and the band were finally getting the recognition they deserved. Their hard work was finally paying off. They didn’t have to rely on their minimum wage jobs anymore to make a living. They were pursuing their dreams to be rockstars.

Their first tour was a major success, even though they performed in smaller venues across the west coast. They were itching to make it big, even though it took time. You always admired Eddie’s drive to succeed. He never took no for an answer and it got him far in life.

You would go to his shows on the weekends when your schedule allowed. You hated that you couldn’t spend as much time with him as before. You were busy with school and your clinical rounds at the hospital to go weeks on end touring with Eddie.

You wanted a career of your own, which Eddie understood, but the days, weeks, and some times months apart started to put a strain on your relationship. Every phone call you exchanged grew shorter and shorter with each day. When Eddie wouldn’t answer, there was a hole in your heart in the shape of him.

You missed how things were before Corroded Coffin rose to fame. You missed visiting the autobody shop Eddie used to work at and surprising him with lunch. You missed the excitement you felt whenever you snuck him into your dorm room at night. You missed feeling like a priority to him.

Your relationship fell apart on a Wednesday night. You begged Eddie for a date night the night before. You hadn’t had alone time together in a while and you couldn’t remember the last time you went on a date. You bought a brand-new outfit for the occasion and a racy lingerie set as a surprise for him. Eddie promised to meet you at the restaurant when they were done recording, but he never showed up.

The embarrassment you felt as you waited for him for nearly an hour would always stay with you. The pitying stares and soft smiles sent in your direction burned the back of your head as you drank yourself stupid to try and mask the pain you felt.

You left soon after you finished the bottle of wine you bought and hailed a cab home. When you walked through the front door to your apartment, Annie was surprised to see you home so early. You told her you wouldn’t be home until the morning because you planned on spending the night over at Eddie’s apartment.

The moment the door shuts behind you, you drop your purse to the ground and cry pathetically. Annie coaxes you to the couch and pulls you into her arms. You cry against her shoulder, ruining the makeup you perfected just for the date. Your mascara smears and you stain Annie’s t-shirt with your foundation.

Between your sobs, you tell her everything. You tell her how long you waited for Eddie at the restaurant until you made the decision to leave and come home. Your fingers cling to the blanket splayed across her lap as you voice what you’ve been trying to ignore: Eddie’s pulling away from you and you’re no longer a priority of his.

You suppose that you’re also to blame for the fall of your relationship. You and Eddie have been dating for the last four years and fell into a routine when you made the decision to go to California for school to be closer to Eddie. He was thrilled when you told him you would be coming with, and when you made it to California, you hadn’t expected for things to change so drastically between the two of you.

You thought it was going to be easy. It’s you and Eddie. It’s always been the two of you together. Who are you without each other? He’s your other half, your soulmate, the person you can’t live without, but you came to the stunning realization that the dreams you shared about starting your lives together in the future weren’t shared by him. Eddie chased his dream to be a star and left you behind.

For as long as you’ve been together, you were always on the same path. You and Eddie were going the same direction and then you slowly started to divert away from each other. You were holding him back and you only wanted the best for him. As much as you wanted to stay together because it’s what you know and what you’re used to, you have to let Eddie go.

You want different things now. You want something secure, tangible, something of what you had when things were easier and you didn’t feel second best. Eddie would always want more for the band and he would do anything to get it. You wouldn’t get in the way of his dreams.

Wiping away your tears, you let out a shaky breath and walk to the bathroom to take a warm shower. When you’re done getting ready for the night, you lay in bed and stare at the ceiling. Tears threaten to spill over your cheeks and there’s a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“Eddie’s here,” Annie murmured, poking her head through your door. “I can tell him you’re asleep if you don’t want to see him.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” you sighed, kicking your sheets off your legs and climbing out of bed.

Walking down the hall to the front door, you open it and slip outside. Eddie smiles sheepishly at you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. He rocks back on his heels anxiously and bends down to kiss your cheek.

“I’m so sorry I missed date night,” he apologized. “I lost track of time and Jeff came up with this incredible song idea for the next album and we just had to finish it. I can’t wait—”

“Eddie, stop,” you interrupted firmly, pushing a hand against his chest in order to create space between the two of you. Eddie’s soft smile crumbles and turns into a frown instead. He reaches out to touch you and you take a step away from him. The silence weighs heavily on your shoulders and you let out a huff. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. If you didn’t do it now, it would only make things harder. “I think we should break up.”

Your heart drops to the depths of your stomach as the words escape your mouth. Your throat tightens and you feel like there’s cotton in your cheeks. The words hang over Eddie like a dark cloud as he digests your words. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying. It’s like you punched Eddie in the gut with the wounded look across his face. He hadn’t expected you to break up with him.

“W-What?” he stuttered as tears glossed over his eyes. “I know I’ve been distant lately, but it’s only because we have the album to work on and tour coming up soon. I can ask David to cut our schedule in half if you’re worried about the distance. I know I haven’t been putting a lot of effort into our relationship lately, but I’m willing to work on it. We can cut some of our hours in the studio so that I—”

“Eddie, stop,” you said again through your tears. You bite your bottom lip and turn to look down the hall of your apartment to avoid looking at him. “I’m not going to ask you to do that. I don’t want to get in the way of your success. I’m holding you back and I don’t want to make you choose.”

“You’re not,” he pleads, closing the gap between you and holding your face between his hands. Eddie rests his forehead against yours as the tears slide down both your cheeks. “You’re the reason why I’m so successful. I wouldn’t be where I am without your love and support. I’m nothing without it. I’m sorry if I make you feel unimportant. I’ve been so wrapped up in Corroded Coffin that I’ve lost sight of you… of us and you’re the best part of my life. Please don’t let us go.”

You blow out a shaky breath and close your eyes momentarily, basking in Eddie’s loving embrace one last time. His rough, calloused fingers brush against your soft cheeks and you breathe him in. The scent of weed, a deep musk, and tobacco fills your nose. You sniff quietly and swallow hard.

“It’s… it’s better this way. You get to live your dream without me holding you back. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you throw your career away in order to be with me. What kind of person would that make me if I did? I have to let you go. I’m sorry,” you whispered through your tears, pulling away from him for the last time. You wipe away your tears with the back of your hand and look at Eddie’s warm brown eyes. They’re broken with tears as he looks at you. “Goodbye, Eddie.”

You turn your back towards him and sneak back into your apartment. Shutting the door behind you, you run to your room and cry yourself to sleep.

“Hey, are you okay?” Seth asked, resting a gentle hand on your shoulder when you return to the table. His bright, blue eyes stare at you curiously.

You laugh nervously and nod in reply. “Yeah, sorry. I think I just ate something funny before I came here,” you lied, downing the rest of your beer. “I’m getting another beer, do you want one?”

Seth nods and you hurry to the bar to grab two drinks. When you walk back to the table and slide into your seat, the house lights dim and the crowd cheers. You hold your breath as the silhouettes of the band appear against the backdrop on the stage before they walk out one at a time.

You feel 18 again when Eddie steps on stage. You suddenly feel like you’re back in Hawkins at the Hideout watching Eddie perform for the first time. You can’t help the look of awe that paints your face as you stare at Eddie.

The three years apart did him well. He’s dressed in a loose fitted t-shirt and his arms are incredibly muscular. Tattoos of all kinds paint his skin and his long hair sits messily on his shoulders. The longer you stare at Eddie, the faster your heart races. Your throat goes dry and blood rushes to the tips of your ears.

You watch with rapt intensity as Eddie walks to the center of the stage. He picks up his guitar and glances back at Gareth. He hits his drumsticks together three times before the thundering sound of Eddie’s guitar roars through the bar. You see Seth glance at you with a grin in the corner of your eye.

You never thought you would see Eddie again. You hadn’t imagined watching him perform again either. You feel like you were stuck in a dream. This was your brain’s way of mocking you. It was a constant reminder that you made the biggest mistake of your life by breaking up with him. It would haunt you forever and you couldn’t dream up what if scenarios had things been different.

By the look on Eddie’s face as he makes his way through the set list, you know you made the right decision. He belonged up on stage. It’s where he thrived. It’s what he was always meant to do. Eddie was always meant to be a rockstar.

It only confirmed what you know to be true: you would’ve held Eddie back had you stayed together. You wonder for a brief second if he’s ever grateful that you broke up with him all those years ago. Who’s to say what would’ve happened if Eddie did ask for the schedule to be cut in half to make more time for you? He probably wouldn’t be here had he done it. “Can we turn the house lights on for just a second?” Eddie asked into the mic as he took a sip of water. “I want to see the beautiful crowd!” the bar patrons and fans alike cheer and the lights turn on seconds later.

Eddie squints at the harsh light filling the room. His eyes scan the bar and he laughs, “I see why the lights are off,” he teased as the crowd laughs at his joke. You don’t bother trying to hide the smile on your face. You watch him look over the audience and then his eyes find yours and you feel time stop.

Your heart thunders against your chest as Eddie sees you for the first time in three years. His eyes widen in shock as he stares at you in disbelief. His doe, brown eyes fill with surprise and awe, his mouth slightly a gap.

Warmth flushes up your neck and across your face the longer he stares at you. You shrink into your chair and smile bashfully at him with a small wave. You ignore the worrying glance Annie gives you and the look of confusion across Seth and Malcolm’s faces.

Eddie stutters into the microphone and tears his eyes away from you. His cheeks flush a deep red and he scratches the back of his neck anxiously. “Uh… anyway!” he said, “It’s been a pleasure being with you all tonight. This is our last song of the night.”

The house lights turn off in favor of the stage lights and the bass thunders against your chest. You feel like you can barely breathe through the entirety of the song. Your ears ring from the loud noise and the sound of Eddie singing in your ear.

When the song ends, they all wave and bow towards the audience as the crowd claps for them. They leave in a cloud of smoke and the lights turn on again. A sigh of relief leaves your throat and you lean back in your chair, taking a large gulp of your second beer of the night. Annie reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

“You okay?” she asked gently.

You nod, swallowing the alcohol in your throat. “I’m fine, Annie,” you answered.

“Do you… do you know the lead singer?” Seth asked you with a curious gaze.

You swallow hard, considering how to answer. “You could say that,” you really hoped with your short and incredibly vague answer that Seth would drop the subject altogether, but it’s Annie who comes to your rescue.

“Malcolm and I were going to head to his place,” she offers, “would you crazy kids like to take the party there?”

“No, thank though. I’ll finish my beer and head home,” you declined with a polite smile.

“I’ll stay too,” Seth replied.

“You don’t have to,” you told him. “I don’t want to ruin the fun. You can go with; I’ll survive on my own.”

Seth smiles gently at you. “Why would I go when the party’s staying with you?”

God, was that corny. You try and refrain from wincing at him. You hug Annie and Malcolm goodbye and watch them disappear out the door. You really hoped that Seth would’ve gone with them. You wanted to be left alone and wallow in your own self-pity. You weren’t in the mood to be on a date anymore.

You turn your head to the direction of the stage door when you hear it creak open. Gareth, Jeff, and Eddie spill out the back and into the bar. They’re grinning like idiots and as they attempt to walk to the bar counter, Eddie’s immediately surrounded by a small group of women. A bitter smile reaches across your face. It’s good to know that some things haven’t changed since you saw each other last.

Gareth and Jeff squeeze past them and make a bee-line to the bar. The older patrons sitting at the counter shake their hands and congratulate them on their good performances as beers slide into each of their hands. With their backs to the bar, they stare out into the crowd and Jeff’s eyes light up when they land on you. You watch him nudge Gareth in the side and nod towards you before they walk the small distance from the bar to your table.

“It’s so good to see you!” Jeff gushed, pulling you in for a hug you weren’t expecting. He leans back with his hands on your shoulders to get a better look at you. “This is such a nice surprise. How have you been?”

Your once hesitant smile turns genuine at your old friend’s greeting. It was nice to see them, despite everything you’d gone through with Eddie. Gareth and Jeff had been your friends once, but you cut them off too when you broke up with Eddie. It was too painful to be around them when you knew Eddie was nearby.

Jeff steps away from you and allows Gareth the opportunity to greet you with a hug. It’s warm and tight and reminds you of home.

“I’m good. You guys were incredible as always,” you trailed off, “Eddie, too.”

They smile apologetically at you and it feels weird to have his name leave your mouth after all these years. You talk quietly and politely introduce Seth to your old friends.

“How do you guys know each other?” Seth asked with intrigue.

“We went to high school together,” Gareth answered.

Seth nods and you talk quietly amongst yourselves and catch up for several minutes before your old friends are pulled away by a group of fans. You wave goodbye to them and turn back to your beer. It remained mostly untouched through the entirely of Corroded Coffin’s set. You take a long sip and resist the urge to look over at Eddie.

“Did you want to go to your place or mine after this?” Seth asked with a sly grin, reaching across the small space between you and squeezing your thigh.

You brush his hand off you and blench at him. You hop off your chair and it screams under the hardwood floor. “You seem like a nice guy, Seth, but I’m really not interested. The only reason I came was because Annie asked me to, not because I wanted to,” you replied honestly, shrugging your purse over your shoulder.

Seth frowns at your blatant rejection. He hadn’t expected you to say no. “You’re joking, right?” you shook your head. Seth’s once gorgeous face turns down into a sneer the longer he stares at you. “You’re an ugly bitch anyways. I don’t know why Malcolm insisted on meeting you.”

You glare at him and your hand wraps around the glass of beer you abandoned as you splash the liquid on his face. Gasps of surprise fill your ears but you’re so enraged to notice all the eyes on you. “If I’m such an ugly bitch,” you hissed under your breath, “why did you want to sleep with me, asshole?”

You slam the empty glass on the table just as security is about to escort you out. “I’m going!” you yelled. “There’s no need to escort me out, I know where the door is.”

You storm out of the bar into the crisp night air. Your heart beats wildly against your chest and you can’t help but cry tears of shame, embarrassment, but most importantly regret, on the walk home.

You stop in your tracks when you hear Eddie’s unmistakable voice chasing after you. You did not want Eddie Munson to see you cry after not seeing each other for three years. You pinch your nose and square your shoulders as he approaches you from behind.

“Are you okay? I saw what happened back there,” he said, standing in front of you.

You let out a shaky breath and meet his eyes. You never thought you would be this close to Eddie ever again. You roll your eyes as a tear touches your cheek. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” you said with a sniff. “Just another entitled prick upset that I said no.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

The silence that follows is heavy and deafening. It has you itching to sprint the rest of the way home. This wasn’t what you pictured your reunion to be like. The last thing you expected was for him to see you cry over a stupid date.

“Don’t be. I should be the one saying sorry. You’re out here instead of at the bar. You didn’t have to come check on me.”

“I wanted to,” he murmured quietly with a light blush to his cheeks. “I just… I had to see you.”

“Eddie,” you warned with a pointed brow, “don’t.”

“Can you blame me?” he asked with a laugh. “It’s been three years and when I see you again, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time all over again.”

“Stop it. Stop talking. Go back to the bar, Eddie,” you demanded firmly, stepping around him and returning your journey home.

You must be dreaming. There’s no way Eddie Munson is running after you. You’re dreaming. This is your mind playing tricks on you. This is a cruel joke. You’re not the protagonist in a John Hughes film. The man you loved and had to let go was not chasing after you all the way home.

“No!” Eddie shouted, running after you and blocking your path. His eyes are wide with determination and he rests his hands on your shoulders, keeping you in place. “I am not leaving you, not again. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

Fat tears coat your cheeks. You shake your head. “It’s been three years, Eddie.”

“And I’ve thought about you every day since.”

“Stop it. You’re making this so much harder. Please, just let me go.”

Eddie reaches to cup your face in his hands and the worn calloses on his fingertips brush against the tops of your cheeks. He swipes your tears away and his big, warm doe eyes stare back at you. Tears gloss over Eddie’s eyes.

“I’m not letting you slip through my fingers again.”

You tear yourself from his gentle embrace and look out into the street. Cars drive past you and people walk up and down the strip where most of the bars were where you lived. You swallow hard. “It’s better this way,” you muttered quietly.

“For who?” Eddie can’t help but yell. “You?”

You turn and look at Eddie with a menacing glare and shove him in the shoulder. All the pent-up emotions you’ve suppressed over the last three years came bubbling to the surface. You should’ve known that this conversation was going to happen. You should’ve left the bar earlier when you had the chance.

“No!” you yelled back, “For you! You got what you wanted, Eddie. You’re a rockstar. You’re rich and famous. It’s all you ever wanted. You were always meant for bigger things. You should be thanking me! If I didn’t break up with you, you probably wouldn’t be where you are right now.”

Eddie shakes his head at you, grabbing at his hair. This was not how either of you pictured reuniting. “I would’ve had you had we stayed together. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. None of this means anything to me if I don’t get to share it with you,” he confessed, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand.

You shake your head in denial. “That’s… that’s not true. You would’ve resented me for asking you to sacrifice your career to make me happy and I couldn’t do that. I knew that when the band started to blow up, that we were on different paths. I was busy with nursing school and I knew after I graduated that I wanted to get married and have kids eventually. I couldn’t ask you to settle down when you were just taking off. I wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me.”

The silence between the two of you is deafening. Now Eddie knows the truth. The weight on your chest lifts and a deep sigh leaves your throat. Eddie stares at you like a fish out of water. You step around him and ignore the tears blurring your vision as you resume the journey home.

Eddie yells your name again and grabs you by the wrist. His fingers slip through yours and he squeezes gently. “If you asked me, I would’ve said yes. I loved you… I still love you. I would do anything for you. It would’ve been hard getting married and having kids when Corroded Coffin started to take off, but at least we would’ve had each other. You’re all I’ve ever needed. You were always my priority, but I was losing sight of what was important to me, and then you left. I’ve regretted it ever since.”

Another onslaught of tears makes their way to the corners of your eyes and Eddie caresses your cheek in the palm of his hand. His forehead rests against yours and he brushes his nose against your cheek. You sniffle quietly and meet his brown eyed gaze, swallowing hard. “Do you mean that?”

“Have I ever lied to you about anything?”

You shake your head, a soft laugh bubbling through your throat. “No.”

Eddie’s mouth presses into yours. He swallows your surprise and pours every ounce of love and passion into the kiss. The kiss was three years in the making. He kisses you like a starved man. It makes your stomach twist. Eddie kisses you slowly, savoring each delicate breath the bled into his mouth. Your fingers press into his chest and squeeze the fabric of his t-shirt. Eddie smiles against your lips and his teeth kiss your skin. Your spine tingles and blood rushes to the tips of your ears.

His hand slides to the back of your neck and tangle in your hair. Eddie presses his chest against yours and you taste the saltiness of each other’s tears. He holds you in place, his free hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you on to your toes. It makes you gasp and he pokes his tongue into your mouth before pulling away for air.

You breathe hard, catching your breath and resting your hands against Eddie’s chest. Warmth spreads across your body, up your neck, and into your cheeks. You have only dreamed about this moment for the last three years.

“I’m not letting you get away this time,” he whispered into the night air. “I lived without you for three years, and I’m never doing that again.”

“I don’t want to, either,” you replied, kissing him again.      

[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part fourteen

Warnings: angst, mentions of drugs, alcohol, heartbreak, mentions of unrequited feelings

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!reader

Summary: The hope of things getting better gets crushed too soon.

Word count: 6k+

Author note: In the fic, readers dad sang the song 'Hey Jude' by The Beatles. Also shoutout to @mysticmunson who made an article and a cover for a magazine for this fic!

Series Masterlist

-

It took a lot of convincing for you to join Eddie and the others for their friends' Christmas. While you got along with all of them and became friends with them quickly, you still felt like you would be intervening. They have been friends for years and you had only joined their group recently. None of them accepted a no from you though, the teens were begging you to come and so were Eddie and Robin. You and Steve haven’t talked since Wednesday night and you began to miss him.

Now you are here, surrounded by your new friends at Robin’s place. Her living room smells like the pine from the Christmas tree, freshly baked cookies and a hint of cinnamon and pumpkin spice from all her candles. 

She has a small apartment but it’s cozy, a bunch of movies and books are all over the place, some are on the shelves, others are piling up on the floor. You checked them out the moment you stepped into her apartment, getting excited over all the horror movies she had collected.  

You finally met Jonathan and his friend from college; Argyle, who pulled you into a conversation right away, enthusiastically asking you questions about the tour. You settled beside him on the couch, quickly forgetting about all the heavy thoughts that lingered in your mind.

Steve kept looking at you all evening, eying you with an unsure look in his eyes, he wanted to talk to you but couldn’t bring himself to, he was too nervous. Even though you told him that you were okay and that everything was fine between you, he didn’t believe it and he still doesn’t. The fear that he messed up completely and broke your trust makes him feel so unbelievably angry with himself. 

He was supposed to be your safe place, the one who protects you from all the pain and yet he hurt you. He knows he did. 

“Hey Dingus,” Robin whispers. She nudges his shoulder and offers him a drink. 

He looks at her and then he looks down at the glass in her hand, eying the beverage. “Eggnog?” He asks, already taking the drink from her hand. 

“Yup.” 

“Cool,” he mumbles. Raising the cup to his lips, he looks back at you as he takes the first sip. You are laughing at something Argyle said, the man beside you looking proud at his jokes. 

Robin stares at him. She pities him, knowing that he likes you and that he is beating himself up for what happened two nights ago. You are not mad at him, you told her that and she told him that but he doesn’t believe it. 

“You should talk to her.” 

“How?” 

“Just talk to her the way you always do,” she mumbles.

“Yeah but how do I approach her?”

“Just like always, like ‘hey honey, can we talk?’” Robin says in a deep voice.

Steve scrunches his face up, furrowing his brows. “I do not sound like that,” he mumbles. 

“Yes, you do.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do!” She exclaims with a teasing look on her face. “You always have that smirk on your face too, flick your hair and put your hand on your hip like a mom.”

“What? I– no!”

She laughs at him, drinking her eggnog and looking behind her best friend’s shoulder with a knowing look on her face. 

“What are you smirking at?” He mumbles, rolling his eyes. 

Robin raises her brows and tilts her chin, gesturing to something behind him. Before he can turn around, he hears your voice. 

“Steve?” 

Suddenly, he feels nervous again, in a way he hasn’t felt in a while. He turns around, trying to force a smile on his face when he looks down at you. He almost expects to see something negative in your eyes, disgust, anger, hate but he finds none of those, he only finds softness in them. 

“Can we talk?” You ask with shyness in your voice, something so unusual for you. 

He nods, eyes softening as he watches you sigh in relief. You take his hand and lead him to the quiet corner in Robin’s living room, you both sit on the window nook.

He doesn’t look at you, not yet. Instead, he looks around the room. Max is talking to Jonathan and Nancy. Argyle is now leaning against the kitchen island, joking around with Eddie and Dustin. The others are on the couch and on the floor, seemingly in a heated conversation about holiday movies.

He feels your eyes on him and he finally turns to face you. You eye him with an apologetic look in your eyes. 

What do you have to feel apologetic for? He is the one who messed up, Steve thinks. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, chuckling.

You nod. 

“Why are you so nice, why are you looking at me like that?” He asks. He feels genuinely confused. You should be angry at him, you shouldn’t be so nice, you shouldn’t look at him like that. 

“I don’t want you to feel bad about what happened, Steve.” 

“We– I messed up,” he mumbles, shaking his head a little as he stares at you with a frown on his face. “You– I didn’t even make sure that you were okay with it–”

“I was okay with it.”

“But I still feel bad.”

“You don’t have to, I promise. I just want to go back to the way things were.” 

“Really?”

“Yes.”

You look at Nancy, the girl that told you about the apparent feelings Steve harbored for you. With a nervous glance and an unsure look on your face, you turn back to him. 

Should you ask him? 

He knows it, he knows that you want to ask something. He can tell by the furrowed brows and the curiosity in your eyes. 

“A-Are we okay?” You ask the questions that you didn’t mean to ask. 

His gaze softens and he finally moves to touch your hand, something he wasn’t sure about at first. 

“Of course, we’re okay, honey.” He pauses, taking a deep breath, he keeps his eyes locked with yours, “but what do you really wanna know?” 

Your eyes widen a little, something that makes him chuckle. 

“Come on, ask what you wanna ask, it’s okay, I won’t be–”

“Do you have feelings for me?” You blurt out in a whisper, already blushing. 

His eyes widen, lips parting and his cheeks grow red. “W-What? Who told you that?” 

You grow nervous, your heart is beginning to race in your chest, you don’t want to hurt him, you don’t want to break his heart, he means too much to you. 

“I– no one,” you whisper, looking down at his hand, “I’m just wondering.” 

A small smile tugs on his lips as he watches you, for someone so tough and confident, you look small and shy, right now. You are worried about him and his feelings, that alone would be enough to mend the pain in his heart if it was there. You don’t want to break his heart. 

He whispers your name and you almost sigh in relief when you don’t hear any pain in his voice. He squeezes your hand, urging you to look at him. You do and meet his eyes again. 

“Listen,” he begins, “I would be lying if I said that I don’t feel something for you but it’s not– I’m not in love with you, I’m not gonna be heartbroken when you leave and when this thing between us will come to an end. I mean, I will be fucking sad,” he chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair, “you and I, we had a really good time, one of the best times of my life, actually. You’ve become one of my best friends and I hope that you won’t forget about me when you leave because I sure as hell will never forget you and our time.” 

You blink, smiling at him, you squeeze his hand the way he did to you. 

“I could never forget you, Steve Harrington.” 

“Never?” 

“Never.” 

You smile at each other, despite what happened and the way you felt the other night, you still feel safe with him. 

“I got used to this,” he smiles, flicking his hand back and forth between the two of you, “having someone to hang out with, I mean other than Robin or the others. You made me realize that I miss having someone, someone to hold and kiss, you know?” 

You nod at his words. You understand it, you feel the same but while he misses having someone in general, you only missed one person and even though you did enjoy the time with him, you still always thought about Eddie. 

“At some point, I convinced myself that I don’t need anyone, that I’m not lucky in that department anyways,” he chuckles, rolling his eyes at himself, “I thought that all I’d ever get is meaningless hookups or just.. heartbreak.” 

You raise your brows, smile turning upside down as you stare at him. He deserves more than that, more than meaningless flings. 

“But then I met you and yeah, we hooked up too but it was also more than that. You showed me that it doesn’t have to be meaningless, that even though we aren’t in a relationship, we can still be something more than just this,” he mumbles, scooting closer to you, he looks down at the rings on your fingers, the ones that he played with when he held your hands, “you never made me feel used. Even when I knew you loved him, you never made me feel like I was a rebound or a thing to play with when you were bored. You never wanted something from me, you were just this sweet girl that wanted to be with me, even if only for a moment.” 

Oh. 

You and him, you are the same in a way. Perhaps this is why you got along so well. 

All your life, you have felt like people wanted or needed something from you. You felt used, still do.

“So uh– I guess what I wanted to say is, thank you,” he smiles, squeezing your hand, “and I’m sorry for what happened that night.” 

You blink, staring into his hazel eyes, you see so much in them. Emotions that you both share. 

Yeah, the night at the trailer was something that left you feeling weird, something that made you feel used and even when it wasn’t what they did, something inside of you was damaged when you let your thoughts get the best of you. Your feelings for either of them haven't changed. You care about Steve and you love Eddie and that is something that will always stay the same. 

Steve mended the pain in your heart after the horrible nights that followed when you found out about Chrissy. He became your friend and something more, there is an energy surrounding the two of you, one that makes you feel safe and comforted. It’s like having a safe haven that you know you can always come back to even after a long long time and you know it will still feel the same. There is nothing romantic about it but it’s nice. 

He is your friend, one that will stay with you forever. You can confidently say that knowing that it’s the truth. 

“Thank you, Steve,” you smile, “you made my life better and you made me happy when I needed it the most.” 

“Come here,” he whispers, opening his arms for you. You smile and lean closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, you hug him and close your eyes. 

“I’m gonna miss you when I’m gone.” 

He hugs you even tighter, sighing sadly, “I’m gonna miss you, rockstar.” 

On the other side of the room, Eddie stands there with a drink in his hand and a scowl on his face as he watches you staying in Steve’s embrace for longer than necessary. Letting the man touch your face after tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Your eyes light up when he says something to you, you laugh and slap his shoulder playfully. 

Do you look at him like that? Do you smile the same way when he talks to you? Do your eyes light up the same way? 

Eddie swallows, his chest feels burdened with jealousy. He feels ridiculous for feeling this way, maybe even a little hypocritical considering he let Steve touch you in a way that was nowhere near friendly but he can’t help it. Anytime another man gets a little too close to you, he gets both angry and insecure but most of all, jealous. 

“Damn, I never saw you look so angry.” 

Eddie snaps his head towards Lucas, who is happily munching on one of the cookies that Nancy made. 

“I’m not angry,” Eddie mutters, angrily. 

Lucas chuckles, nodding, “sure, whatever you say, Eddie. You are totally not jealous over the fact that Steve is kissing her right now.”

“What?” Eddie almost shrieks as he turns to look at you again, heart dropping to his stomach at his words only to find you gone and Steve joining El and Robin in a conversation. 

Clenching his jaw, he turns back to Lucas, “you little shit,” he says through gritted teeth. Lucas only laughs, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. 

“So you are jealous, huh?” 

Rolling his eyes, he only shrugs, “clearly.” 

“You’re so dense, man,” Lucas sighs. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You are dense!” He exclaims, throwing his arms up. “She is like literally in love with you and you are over here glaring at her–”

“I did not glare at her!”

“Yes, you did! You looked pretty scary right now, scarier than Henry Creel!” 

“Dude!” 

“It’s the truth!” Lucas mumbles, rolling his eyes. He crosses his arms over his chest. “Listen, clearly you have messed up somehow, otherwise you wouldn’t look at each other like kicked puppies, all the damn time. You probably made things worse by trying to make them right ‘cause I know that you can be an idiot sometimes, no offense. But you really gotta man up and fix things before you lose her and trust me, you don’t wanna lose her.” 

Eddie blinks. 

How is this 17 year old boy wiser and smarter than him? 

He is right, he doesn’t want to lose you, ever. The thought of living a life without you makes him sick. Even if you never give him a chance again, he still wants you in his life, even if he’ll only get to love you from afar. 

You breathe in the cold air, closing your eyes, you lean back against the concrete wall. The wind is harsh tonight as the snow falls. You wonder if there is a storm brewing, beside the one inside of you. 

You are overstimulated by all the emotions running through you. 

Confusion. Sadness. Insecurities. Anger. Exhaustion. Heartbreak. 

The conversation with Chrissy left you with nothing but confusion, just like Eddie’s and Steve’s actions did. 

The days leading closer to Christmas and to your Dad’s death anniversary leaves you with sadness, too much of it. 

Your many insecurities have always been there but they have never been as intense as they are now. Despite Eddie’s words, Robin’s words or even Chrissy’s words, you can’t help but fear that Eddie doesn’t care about you in the same way you do for him. So far, things have only ever been physical between you two, at least from his side. 

Before Eddie, you had never felt an emotional connection to anyone else, you have never loved anyone romantically, you have never felt all of this for another person. You were scared of these feelings, of falling in love only to end up heartbroken. 

You were scared of falling in love with the wrong person. Though despite everything that happened, Eddie could never be the wrong person, even if he continues to put you through pain, you will never regret loving him. 

He is your person, even if you aren’t his. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

You open your eyes and turn to see Max approaching you, even in the darkness, you can see the concern in her eyes as she looks at you. 

You smile at her and nod your head, “yes, I’m okay.” 

She doesn’t look convinced, raising her brows, she crosses her arms over her chest as she pulls her jacket tighter around her body to shield herself from the cold wind. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah,” you mumble with uncertainty in your voice. 

She takes a moment to think about her words as she looks into your eyes as though she tries to figure you out. 

“Is this too much for you?” She asks, “I mean the whole Christmas party.” 

She doesn’t have to spell it out for you to know what she actually means by her question. 

“No, I actually like it,” you smile, “I’m just not used to it, I haven’t celebrated Christmas in years.” 

Because what was there to celebrate after he died that day? 

“Honestly? I hate Christmas,” Max admits with a sigh and an eye roll, causing you to chuckle. 

“Really?” 

Her eyes widen as she nods, “yeah because even though my mom left my step dad, she still insists on spending holidays with him and Billy.” 

“Billy?” 

“My step brother who is a major asshole.” 

“Oh no,” you mumble with a scowl on your face. 

“Yeah, he is horrible and he always makes sure to make me feel horrible, especially during holidays, so I really just can’t wait for it to be over.” 

“I get it. I feel the same way,” you admit, “but I’m sorry about him, fuck that guy.” 

She chuckles at your words, “yeah, fuck that guy.” 

“What about your dad?” You ask. 

Her eyes light up and a smile appears on her face. “Oh, my dad is amazing, I don’t see him very often but he calls all the time. Lucas and I are going to visit him over the summer, he lives in California.” 

“That sounds nice,” you smile, “I hope you’ll have the best summer before you both go to college.” 

“I’m sure we will,” she smiles, “but back to you, what are you doing tomorrow?” 

“Oh umm.. I think that I will relax in my motel room,” you chuckle. 

You are not looking forward to tomorrow or the day after at all. No matter what you do, no matter how much you try to distract yourself, it doesn’t work, it never works. This day always brings you back to that horrible night.

“Alone?” 

“Yeah, I’m gonna get ready for tour, we’re leaving next week.” 

“You can’t spend Christmas by yourself,” she frowns. 

“I always spend Christmas by myself.” 

“You shouldn’t, that’s sad.” Especially because of your dad, she wants to add but doesn’t. “I’d invite you to spend it with us but I don’t think that you want to meet Billy,” she rolls her eyes, “did Eddie not invite you?” 

No. He didn’t. Eddie didn’t invite you. Steve did but he didn’t. 

Maybe he doesn’t want you around. Christmas is a holiday that you spend with your loved ones, not ones you keep around because you like the way they make you feel, because you like touching them. 

You shake your head. 

“What?” 

“Uh no, he uh– he didn’t invite me,” you mumble as the sadness begins to take hold of you, “which is fine, that’s a day you gotta spend with your family or with people you love. Eddie and I are just friends.” 

She furrows her brows in confusion. She opens her mouth to speak but quickly closes it again. You feel overwhelmed, just like you did minutes before you left the apartment. She could see the way you put on a mask, the way you smiled at Steve and laughed along to his jokes despite the pain in your eyes, you are good at hiding your emotions and so is she, that’s why she could see right through you. 

“It’s getting late, I think I’m gonna go,” you mumble, blinking away the tears that start to well up in your eyes. 

“Do you want me to get Steve, so he can drive you?” She asks even though she already knows that you will say no. You want to be alone. 

“No,” you shake your head, forcing a smile on your face, “it’s just a short walk, I’ll be fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, thank you for tonight, the party was nice.” 

“You don’t have to thank us, you’re our friend now,” she smiles.

Her words warm your heart a little.

You give her a hug before you leave, telling her to enjoy the rest of the party before you walk away but then you make the abrupt decision to go the other way after Max goes back inside. The thought of being all alone in the quiet room makes you feel sick but going back to the party isn’t an option either. You need some time alone, a good drink and some music. 

That’s how you find yourself sitting at the bar you performed in this Tuesday. Ordering yourself a drink and opting to watch the people around you. 

Your eyes lock with blue ones, the ones that were stuck on you all night ever since you walked inside the hideout.

His hair is blond, a little messy. He has tattoos on his left arm, a dark look on his face and a smirk tugs at his lips when you don’t look away from him. He is attractive. If you weren’t so hung up on a man that probably only wants to fuck you, you would be over there flirting with this stranger already. 

You look away, running your fingers through your hair, you sigh. 

You’re a mess, a complicated mess with too many trust issues and feelings. You keep changing your mind about everything, your thoughts are running wild, making you feel as though you are going crazy. Everything that ever hurt you, keeps repeating itself in your head and you wish that your thoughts would just shut up. 

That the pain could just stop. 

Will it ever stop?

“Hey.” 

You already know who it is before you even turn around to face the man. 

“Hi.”

He smirks at you, eying you up and down before he looks at the seat next to you, “can I sit here?” 

“If you give me your name,” you say with raised brows. 

He licks his lips, chuckling, he holds his hand out to you, “I’m Henry.” 

Oh my god. 

“Henry,” you mumble, a smirk tugging at your lips. You assume that he must be the Henry Creel, the one that everyone kept mentioning, you expected him to look scary but there is not a single thing scary about him, well– maybe the look in his eyes is but you don’t care. 

You give him your name and watch as he takes the seat next to you. 

“I know who you are,” he chuckles, “you’re all over the television.” 

His voice is raspy and he looks deep into your eyes. 

“Yeah, do you want an autograph?” You joke. 

“No, I think I’d rather talk to you.”

“What if I don’t want to talk?” 

“Then I’ll leave,” he shrugs, “do you want me to leave?”

You tear your eyes away from him and look down at your drink, sloshing the dark liquid around, you down the rest of it, slamming the glass on the table. You call the bartender over, “can I get another one?” 

The bartender, a middle aged man with the name tag Tom, nods at you, reaching for your glass. 

“Actually make it two,” you request as you look back at Henry whose eyes light up. 

With the way he has been making eyes at you all night, you expected him to be flirting with you but instead you found yourself having a pleasant conversation with the man that your friends have warned you about. 

The only thing creepy about him is his obsession with spiders and zombies but he is probably just a really big fan of horror. He even has a big spider tattoo on his wrist. 

You find out that he lives alone in a big house, he stayed behind after his family left Hawkins but he works as a tattoo artist in a different town. 

The whole time he is talking to you, you nod along and listen. Leaning your elbow against the table, you cup your cheek and stare at him, wondering what gave him such a bad reputation. 

Hours go by and you knock back one drink after the other, letting the alcohol flood your system. You needed this. A distraction. To feel careless and free of your thoughts. Who would’ve thought that a talk with a stranger and a few drinks would make you feel better? 

“You are nice,” you slur, furrowing your brows. 

“Why wouldn’t I be nice?” 

“People say you’re dangerous and scary.” 

He chuckles at your words, “maybe I am dangerous and scary.” 

You shake your head, laughing, “no, I’ve met dangerous people before, you’re not dangerous. You just have that mean look on your face,” you mumble as you point to his eyes, “and your obsession with spiders makes you seem scary but you probably just want to be spiderman– hey, have you ever been to New York? You should go there but don’t have your first kiss there with someone you love or it’ll all go downhill,” you ramble carelessly. 

You don’t see the way he raises his brows in surprise, you are too drunk to notice anything at this point. Getting more and more dizzy and tired. 

“I fell in love with this– this guy who had a girlfriend but I didn’t know about her until she surprised him and then I got all heartbroken and we got into a lot of fights and blah blah,” you roll your eyes, “then I fucked his friend.” 

“Oh,” Henry mumbles, looking surprised. 

“Yeah and he got jealous. He got all pissed at me because I fucked his friend! He had a girlfriend! He had no right to be jealous, right?” 

“Totally not.” 

“But then he wanted to fuck me with his friend, how fucking stupid is that?” 

“Wait what–”

“I hate men, they are so dumb– no offense.” 

“None taken, you’re right.” 

“I know, I’m always right.” 

He chuckles as he looks down at you. 

You run your fingers through your messy hair, trying to sit straight. 

“I think I need another drink–”

“No, I really think you don’t,” he says, pushing the half empty glass away from you, “you’ve had enough. You should go home.” 

You tilt your head, squinting your eyes as you turn to look at him, “no, I don’t.” 

“The bar is closing soon.” 

“Oh,” you frown, “well, it was nice to meet you,” you mumble, jumping off the chair, your knees buckle and you almost fall to the ground if it wasn’t for him holding you up, “whoa, you okay?” He chuckles. 

A small laugh leaves your lips, you nod, “yeah, thanks,” you mumble, blinking, you feel yourself getting dizzy, “I think I had too much.” You stumble into his chest, “you smell good, is that Dior?” 

He chuckles again, placing his hands on your waist, he pushes you back a little. 

“Do you need some water–” 

“Hey! Get your hands off of her!” 

You look behind him, to see Eddie walking towards you with an angry and worried look in his eyes. 

“Oh no,” you mumble as a wave of sickness rushes through you, “there is the guy.” 

Eddie can’t believe it. He was sick with worry, searching for you everywhere after finding your motel room dark and empty. Here you are, getting cozy with Henry fucking Creel.

“What the fuck, y/n?” He mutters angrily as he stops in front of you, he reaches for you, pulling you away from Henry, he looks down at you, “I was worried about you!” 

“Why?” You slur, looking up into his dark eyes, “I’m fine, just hanging out with spiderman.”

He scrunches his face up, the smell of whiskey hits him. The red rimmed eyes and your drowsy state makes him even more worried. He cups your cheeks. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, “how much did you have?” 

You slap his hands away, “stop acting like my dad, you’re not my dad. My dad is dead.” 

Eddie frowns at your words. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Eddie–”

“You’re getting drunk with strangers now?” 

“Henry is my friend, he’s gonna give me a tattoo, right Henry?” 

Henry shrugs, “yeah sure.” 

“Or maybe some nipple piercings,” you smirk. 

“What the fuck,” Eddie mumbles. 

“Yeah, what the fuck, Eddie? Did you know that he is a tattoo artist and not some scary serial killer?”

He rolls his eyes at you, taking your hand, he squeezes it softly, “come on, I’ll take you home.”

To his surprise, you don’t protest. He grabs your coat and wraps it around your shoulders before he leads you out. He mutters something under his breath as you step into the darkness. Suddenly, you start giggling causing him to get even more irritated. 

You lean against the wall, almost stumbling to the ground again but Eddie holds your waist tightly. 

“What the fuck is so funny to you?” 

You look at the frown on his face, his eye is twitching and his cheeks are red. He is mad. 

“Get your hands off of her,” you imitate him with a low voice, “are you worried that someone else will use me for my body? I-I mean, that’s all I am to you, a body, right?”

“What?” He scoffs. 

“I’m just a body– a thing to you,” you slur, “that’s what you called me, a pretty little thing, that’s what you called me that one night on the tour bus. And that’s all you ever want me for. You always just wanna touch me and kiss me, otherwise I’m not interesting to you.” 

“What?” Eddie repeats, though he doesn’t sound shocked or angry now, just sad. 

“Can you bring me home– no, wait,” you giggle again, “I don’t have a home.” 

Eddie stares at you with tears in his eyes. Right here, right now, he realizes just how hurt you really are. Despite your laugh and the carefree act you put on, it’s so clear to him that you are in pain and it breaks his heart. 

“I’m a wreck,” you say, running your hand down your face, “man, I’m so annoying.” 

He shakes his head, stepping towards you, he cups your cheeks. Getting angry at himself for making you feel this way about yourself. 

“You’re not a wreck and you are not annoying, Sweetheart and you’re not some thing to me. You’re my girl, my best friend, okay?” 

Your glossy eyes widen at his words. 

“Best friend?” You whisper. 

“Yeah, you are my everything. I’m an idiot, a really big one. I know I made mistakes, too many of them but I can prove you wrong, I can show you that you are more to me than what you think.”

“Please?” You whisper with hope in your eyes. 

“I will prove it to you,” he says softly, leaning down, he presses his lips to your forehead, giving you a gentle kiss, “I won’t touch you unless you tell me to. We can start over, okay?” 

You nod. 

He pulls you into his arms and hugs you tightly. You breathe his scent in, a sense of comfort washing over you. You close your eyes and lay your head on his chest. 

“I can be your home.” 

“Really?” You mumble into his chest as the exhaustion takes over you again. 

“Yes baby,” he whispers, running his fingers through your hair, “and please don’t ever hang out with Henry again–”

“Henry is nice.” 

“No, he really isn’t,” Eddie mumbles in annoyance. 

“Yes, he is, he is a sweet boy.” 

“Jesus Christ,” he sighs. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Sweetheart.” 

He brings you back to the motel room, taking your clothes off and replacing them with comfortable ones. He takes your makeup off and brushes your hair while you brush your teeth. Eddie loves taking care of you, it’s something he never told you before but he does. 

Before you, he hated being responsible for others, he didn’t like taking care of other people but it’s different with you. 

He manages to convince you to drink a glass of water, hoping that it will make you feel less bad in the morning but neither that or the advil help you. You wake up with a pounding head.  

Groaning in pain, you open your eyes, feeling thankful for the closed curtains. 

You sit up, burying your face in your hands. You haven’t felt this way in a long time. You don’t drink much, ever. Hangovers are the absolute worst, that’s why you keep it light with the drinks, usually. 

You force yourself out of bed, you read the clock, 12:00 pm.

“Jesus,” you mumble. It’s unusual for you to sleep this long. 

You find a note and a full water bottle, along with some painkillers on the nightstand. 

Please eat something when you wake up and call me.

-Eddie.

You don’t think that you will get anything down right now or today in general. 

You don’t call him right away, opting for a shower instead, hoping that it will wake you up and make you feel better. You grab some fresh clothes before walking into the bathroom. Turning the water on, you start taking your clothes off. You turn to look at yourself in the mirror. 

Frowning at the puffy eyes and the circles beneath them. 

“Wreck,” you mumble to yourself, rolling your eyes, you turn away and step into the shower.

You close your eyes when the warm water touches your skin. You stand there for a couple of minutes before you begin to wash your hair and your body. You don’t think of anything yet, too focused on the headache and your craving for coffee. 

You take your time getting ready. You put lotion on your body, style your hair and put makeup on your face, hoping that it’ll make you look less exhausted. You pick out a warm sweater and some dark jeans.

The weight on your shoulder is heavy but some of it was lifted last night after your conversation with Steve and Eddie. 

I can be your home

We can start over

Start over. Yes, you both can start over. You can start over. Things don’t have to be this way. You don’t have to be broken and insecure. You can be more than that. You can be okay. 

You are surprised by the amount of snow that fell overnight. All the trees and all the streets are covered in snow and it's icy cold outside. 

You were meaning to go to the store but it’s too far away to walk in this cold so you stop by the gas station instead, hoping to get a hot drink and a few snacks here. 

You greet the very bored looking cashier as you walk inside. Last Christmas by Wham is playing on the radio. The only Christmas song you’ll ever tolerate. 

You walk past the drinks and the magazines when something catches your eye. 

The warmth that the store provided you only lasted for a moment. Your blood runs cold and your heart drops to your stomach when your eyes fall on the cover of one of the magazines. 

“What the fuck,” you whisper as you feel yourself getting sick already. 

A picture of your dad is on the cover of one of the magazines. You step closer, ignoring the pounding of your heart. With shaky hands, you reach towards it. Eyes filled with shock as you read the lines on the cover. 

HOLIDAY HEARTBREAK

BELOVED LEGEND DIED OF DRUG OVERDOSE, NOT MEDICAL CONDITION. AN INSIDE SCOOP INTO THE MAN WE THOUGHT WE KNEW. 

“No….” You whisper with tears in your eyes. 

You rush towards the counter with the magazine in your hand, slamming a fifty dollar bill on the counter.

“Hey, that’s too much!” The teen says to you as he looks at you in confusion. 

“Keep the change,” you mumble as you leave the store. Not even caring about the cold anymore, walk towards the bench on the sidewalk. Sitting down, you flip through the pages. 

Breathing heavily, you try to see through the blurry vision in your eyes as you begin to read the article. Your hands are shaking, you feel like throwing up as the bile in your throat rises. 

The Hey Jude singer secretly battled a drug addiction before being found by his daughter on Christmas. Is she following in his footsteps? 

You don’t even feel your heart racing any longer, you don’t feel any anger. 

You read the rest of it, only growing more scared and confused. 

Mentions of your apparent drug addiction only make you feel even sicker. 

“What the fuck..” 

You stare at it for the longest time, not knowing how to actually feel. Tears begin to stream down your face and you have to hold yourself together to keep yourself from sobbing. How do they know? How did this happen? Who talked? Who said all these horrible things about you?

You sniffle, closing the magazine, you get up. 

You never wanted this, you never wanted them to know about what happened to him. 

They waited for this day to publish this stupid magazine. You clench your jaw, looking up into the sky, you close your eyes. The pain and the anger and everything else begins to fade into numbness. 

You don’t even think about what will happen next but you know that the rest of the tour will be hell for you. 

Ever since he died, you have hated this day but now you despise it. 

His name is ruined and so is yours. 

You walk over to the telephone booth, throwing a coin into the phone box, you dial the number, already knowing that you are making a huge mistake. This person never gave you an ounce of comfort in your life and yet, you call her. 

You have never felt so low. 

You hold the receiver tightly in your shaky hand, ignoring the tears that stream down your face. 

“Hello?” 

“Mom?” 

The line goes silent and you are afraid that she hung up the phone. 

“Mom, are you there?” You ask, not even recognizing your own voice anymore. 

She says your name, almost regretfully. 

“Did you see?” You ask as you look down at the magazine. 

“See what, y/n?” 

“The article?” 

“Yes.” 

Her voice is monotone, strict. She doesn’t care, she never did and it hurts you more than ever today. 

“C-Can I see you?” You ask with a shaky voice. 

She sighs and you already know what that means. 

“Listen, I gotta go–”

“Mom, please,” you beg.

The line is silent for another few seconds. Your heart is racing, your bottom lip is trembling as your body is shaking, not from the cold but from the fear. 

“I need you.” 

She doesn’t say anything but she hangs up the phone, leaving you alone once again. 

You close your eyes as you place the receiver back in place, wiping your tears away, you hold the magazine tightly against your chest as you leave the booth. 

How much worse will it get? 

“Y/n?”

You look up, not caring about the tears on your face and the ones that are welling up in your eyes again. Even through your blurry vision, you recognize him. 

“H-Hi,” you mumble, trying to keep yourself from crying. 

He eyes you with concern in his eyes, holding the keys to his truck, he puts them inside of his pocket as he walks towards you. 

“Are you okay, kid?” He asks. 

You blink, trying to come up with words, trying to come up with a lie but you can’t, not right now. 

You shake your head, “no,” you whisper, unable to stop the sob from escaping. 

Wayne sighs deeply, a sad look taking over his features, he steps closer to you.

“Come here, darling,” he says as he opens his arms, pulling you into his embrace. He rubs your back softly, holding you as you cry. 

-

Here’s the article

-

only tagging friends & mutuals! Follow @andvyswritingss and turn on notifications so you don't miss updates!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @yearwalker96

[eiightysixbaby]

i've got you under my skin now

word count: 2.9k

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT. kind of asshole!eddie but he's really just a moody baby, oral (m receiving), masturbation, reader and eddie argue but everything is consensual, really just absolute filth with a plot.

summary: you're an up-and-coming musician in the rock scene and have been asked to join corroded coffin on a song. only thing is, their singer - eddie munson - proves to be challenging to collaborate with.

author's note: my first lengthier work so sorry in advance if there are errors! this is a daisy jones and the six inspired one-shot, and for the sake of this fic i directly reference the title and lyrics of the song 'honeycomb' from the tv show - but you really don't need to know the book/show to understand. ok anyways hope u all like it and here u go @taintedcigs i know u've been waiting for this one em i hope u love it!!

“Honestly Eddie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not listening to your little rockstar tantrum. She’s coming in, and she’s joining you on the song. That’s final.”

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

“Tom, you don’t fucking get it man. Clearly. My song is perfect. What do we need her for? She doesn’t even have an album out, she’s made no name for herself. She’s going to ruin Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continues pestering, despite Tom’s insistence against it.

“No, Eddie, see that’s where you’re wrong. You wrote a good song man, okay? A good song. But just a good song. She could make it great. You haven’t heard her sing like I have. She has real talent.”

Eddie scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Oh a good song, huh? But you said the label liked it. Why change it?”

Tom sighs, taking a step towards Eddie. “The label didn’t dig the song… okay? They said it needs more, otherwise they’re gonna pass on it.”

“So you fuckin’ lied man, fuck-“ Eddie grits his teeth. “Fine, whatever, she’s gonna sing on the song with me. But that’s it.” Eddie grumbles, storming out of the small room.

•••

“He doesn’t get it, guys, he doesn’t fucking get it!” Eddie yells. “This is my song. My fucking baby. And this... bitch is gonna come in here and destroy it. I don’t need her singing on the song - I don’t need anyone to make my music ‘better’” he spits.

The thing is, things have always gone Eddie’s way since Corroded Coffin gained traction in the music world. Eddie writes the songs, Eddie dictates which songs go on the album, so on and so forth. This makes sense to Eddie, and if you ask him, he’s being completely fair to the rest of the guys in the band. ‘Of course I let them have a say in things. I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard - it’s a fair process around here.’ It’s only natural that he can’t handle the idea of someone else singing on his song. Eddie is always the one singing, save for Gareth and Jeff doing backing vocals.

Eddie thrives off of being liked. The way the fans hang onto every word he sings- it’s electric to him. He’s addicted to the way people adore him. And he’d never admit it to anybody… but he’s nervous you might just show him up, and then *poof* no one cares about him anymore.

“Come on, Eddie. Ease up a little! This could be fun, you never know.” Gareth says, following Eddie back and forth as he paces the recording studio.

“I give you like, 20 minutes before you’re in love with her… or bending her over a table.” Jeff interjects, screeching when Gareth throws a drumstick at him to shut him up.

Eddie can’t get a rebuttal in before the door swings open. Tom walks in trailed by a young woman. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie’s ever see- nope. Nope. Not going there. What was that?

“Guys. This is Y/N, as I’m sure you could guess. She’s here to record ‘Honeycomb’ with us today.” Tom smiles politely at the group, jolting Eddie from his thoughts.

“Y/N, hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Gareth, this is Jeff, Greg, and I’m sure you know Eddie - the star of the show.” Gareth goes around the room, pointing at all of the guys.

You meet Eddie’s gaze as Gareth talks, and your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you know who Eddie is- you’ve seen him on magazine covers and in interviews. You’ve always thought he was alluring, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Long, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Tattoos trailing up his arms and chains around his neck. His signature ripped black skinny jeans that hug him so well in all the right places… fuck. Focus. You are not here to sleep with Eddie Munson. You redirect your attention to Gareth as he finishes speaking.

The rest of the guys all greet you warmly - except Eddie, you notice - who gives you a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.

You walk straight up to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Eddie. Thank you so much for letting me be on the song - seriously, it means the world.” You say, exaggerating sincerity a little.

Eddie reluctantly shakes your hand. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

He walks away to set up a microphone before he can think too hard about the way his heart pounded as your hands touched.

•••

The recording session starts, and take one of the song has begun. You insisted on using the same mic as Eddie, who begrudgingly allowed you to stand beside him, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. The contact sends chills down his spine. Eddie sings the first lines confidently into the mic, not making eye contact with you. Tom, along with the rest of the band watch the two of you intently from the sound booth. Honestly, Eddie has to admit everything is going smoothly. That is, until the chorus starts. Eddie sings one lyric into the microphone… and you sing a different one.

“Woah, woah, okay, stop!” Eddie yells to Tom to cut the track, pulling the clunky headphones off of his head. “Those aren’t the lyrics, what are you doing?” He’s turned to face you, incredulous.

“Um I- I’m sorry, did he not get my version? Does he not know?” You say, avoiding eye contact with Eddie to level with Tom.

“Your version!? This is my song- you are here to sing on my song. Not to rewrite the damn song!” Eddie hisses, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, darling, I’m here to make your song better. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” You narrow your eyes at him, a syrupy sweet smile on your face.

Eddie’s face is burning, his whole body is burning. You weren’t supposed to write new lyrics. This is not happening. And for the love of god stop staring at her lips, Eddie.

“Eddie, uh, let’s give her version a shot, yeah?” Tom says, framing it like a question, but Eddie knows he doesn’t really have a choice.

The track starts from the top again, and Eddie finds that his hands are trembling as he holds your songbook. He sings the lyrics as you have written them, and his stomach sinks as he does it. He hates that you’ve changed his perfect song. He hates that he was made to look like an idiot because Tom didn’t tell him you had rewritten anything. And most of all, he hates that he can hear how good your voices sound together. He hates that he thinks he’d like to hear the sound of your voice for the rest of his life, on the rest of his songs.

“Oooh, we could make a good thing bad,” the two of you sing out in unison, and the song ends.

Eddie stares at you and you stare at him, chest heaving and absolutely beaming. The rest of the band are looking at the two of you in awe from the sound booth. Eddie can’t bring himself to smile, can’t bring himself to let you know that he thinks you really might have made his song better. Can’t face you while his mind races with thoughts of grabbing your face and kissing you. Instead, he hands you your lyric book and hurries out of the studio.

You excuse yourself to the group amid their praises and follow him out the large wooden doors. You’re surprised to find the lobby empty, but then you hear noise coming from down the hall. Walking over to a small closet, you peer in and see Eddie in the dim light, leaning against the wall, hands covering his face and his head tipped back.

“Eddie, what was up with that?” You ask him gently, closing the closet door behind you for privacy. “I thought we sounded great.”

“You rewrote my fucking song!” He booms over you. “That wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to sing on it with me and that would be that.” He’s stepped towards you, leaving little room between the two of you in the already-cramped closet.

“It’s not my fault Tom didn’t tell you I changed some of the lyrics, okay? I didn’t expect you to be blindsided like that. But you could’ve been more mature about it!” You defend.

“Who the hell do you think you are? No- seriously, tell me. Corroded Coffin has worked so hard to make a name for ourselves. I have worked so hard. And you just waltz in here like you own the place? What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s words come out sharp, bitter, but there’s an emotion behind his eyes you can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe.

“Oh get your head out of your ass already, Eddie! I made your song better! We sounded fucking amazing together- the label might actually want it now!” You’re screaming back at him at this point, heat rising in your face as he steps impossibly closer to you. “And don’t even get me fucking started on the Corroded Coffin bullshit. Do you even give the other guys a say in what happens in this band? Cause you seem like a big cocky crybaby who always gets his way. I may not be rich and famous like you are but at least I’m not a fucking prick!” You’re seething, and you press your hands to his chest in an attempt to shove him backwards.

Eddie stops you, though, grabs you by the wrists. Firmly, but not hurting. His huge brown eyes haven’t stopped boring into yours. He thinks his heart might sprout wings and fly out of his chest. He thinks he might hate himself forever if he doesn’t get to have more of you.

“What- now you’re speechless? Don’t have anything to s-“ Eddie cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours like his life suddenly depends on it. Maybe it does.

You’re caught off guard, frozen in place for only a second until you kiss him back, pushing him up against the shelves behind him. His hands leave your wrists and hastily scour your body. You’d think he was a man starved the way he grips at your hips, lips basically devouring yours all the while. Eddie gasps as you lean down to his neck, sucking red and purple marks onto the skin that Jeff is definitely going to mock him for later. He can’t bring himself to care. He grabs your face in his hands to meet your lips once again, needing more.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” Eddie says between kisses, moving down to nip at your neck. “I can’t fucking stand the way you came in here so confidently today-“ another kiss to your neck. “The way you came right up and sang into the same mic as me instead of using your own, like you just own the whole room-“ another kiss, and another “I can’t stand the fact that your lyrics are better than mine- that maybe you made 'Honeycomb' something I couldn’t make it,” he’s talking through gritted teeth, agitated and yet completely enamored with you. “I hate that the entire time I was watching you sing, I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock..”

Before you can respond, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, pushing you against the opposite wall of the closet, taking control.

“I think you’re absolutely insufferable and immature” you breathe out, pulling his hair out of its ponytail so you can run your fingers through it.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, but it’s arrogant, smug. “You can spit whatever insults you like, sweetheart, but you’re absolutely soaked right now.” He gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he does. His fingers had slipped inside the waistband of your pants, and are now circling the lace fabric of your panties.

You feel yourself clench around nothing as his fingers tease your core. You let out an involuntary moan, rutting your hips down against his touch. He gets the hint and shimmies your jeans down your legs, and you slip out of them after quickly taking your shoes off. You meet his gaze again as he tugs his jeans down slightly, pulling his cock free from the thin fabric of his boxers.

And - oh my god - he’s fucking huge. Thick and long with a dripping pink tip. You swallow, hard, and you swear you feel your mouth start to water. Suddenly you can’t figure out how you’ve survived this long without him, and you certainly won’t be able to after this.

“Get on your fucking knees, babydoll” he purrs, lips inches away from your ear.

You oblige, of course, settling yourself so that your pussy rests on the toe of his combat boot, aching for whatever friction you can get. You take his cock into your mouth without further instruction from the rockstar, and he inhales sharply above you.

“Fuck, baby, shit-“ Eddie groans, collecting your hair in one of his hands and tugging, his cock twitching slightly in your mouth.

“What, big shot, can’t handle it? Should I tell the press that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin comes three seconds into a blowjob?” you tease him, but you can’t ignore the way your head spins at his praise.

“Shut up and fucking suck it, sweetheart- I can handle it.” He hisses.

You don't need further instruction. Your tongue works on his cock, licking a stripe up his length and then kitten-licking the tip. Eddie’s seeing stars as you engulf him entirely in your mouth once again. You go at it for a while before he feels you rutting yourself against his boot.

His laugh is devious, wicked. “So desperate for me huh, sweet thing? Gonna get yourself off while you suck my cock, baby?”

You want to retaliate, taunt him back, do anything to make yourself seem like more than a pathetic fucking whore for him, but you’re dripping through your panties and the friction is so, so delicious you can’t stop your movements. Warmth is beginning to pool in your stomach and you need this release. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, his tip practically nudging the back of your throat, gagging around him. Eddie thinks he might die, seriously, this is it for him. ‘Rockstar Dies In Supply Closet With His Dick Out’ he can see the tabloid headlines now. He tugs your hair and holds your head still as he starts to fuck into your mouth, reveling in the moans and mewls you let out beneath him.

“Shit, sweetheart, you feel s’fucking good around my dick-" he grunts, throwing his head back as he picks up his pace. "Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweet girl. I know you need more." He says roughly.

You happily let him throat-fuck you as you tug your panties down slightly, bringing a hand down to allow your fingers to rub harsh circles into your clit. You feel yourself getting closer, a coil tightening more more more as he fucks into the heat of your mouth. You can sense his movements getting erratic, and you glance up to look at his face. He's delirious, so fucked out, and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle right here at his feet as you watch him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, sweetheart, shit- you want it in your mouth?” He asks you, brown eyes blown out wide as he awaits your response.

You nod, mouth too full of him to speak, and you squeeze his heavy balls in your free hand as he thrusts faster faster faster into your mouth. He lets out a strangled moan as his cock twitches, ropes of hot cum coating your tongue. You quicken your pace on your aching clit and it doesn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap. You cum all over your fingers and Eddie's boot that still rests beneath you, as he finishes riding out his high above you. He watches you as you swallow his load and he silently swears to himself he’ll do whatever he can to have you like this more often.

“Fuck, baby, you soaked my shoes huh? You okay?” He asks you tenderly, grabbing your arms to pick you up off the floor and steady your shaking frame. You nod, collapsing against him, head pressed to his chest. The two of you stay like that for a while, listening to each others heavy breaths before Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about having you on the song, okay?” He says, his voice softer and far more unsure than you've ever heard it. “You made it better- I really fucking mean that.”

“I know I did.” you reply, shifting to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “A few more rounds of this," you gesture around the two of you, "and I think you’ll have made it up to me” you smirk at him.

“Alright, sweetheart, same place same time tomorrow?” Eddie teases, and you laugh. That’s a sound he thinks he could get used to.

•••

When the two of you walk back into the recording room, Eddie's neck littered with hickeys and mascara smudged around your eyes, no one says a damn word.

"'Honeycomb' take three anyone?" Eddie asks.

[madelynraemunson]

Married au with Rockstar!Eddie where he's just a man STARVED when he goes home from tour. LIKEEEE, he's just a needy husband in need of reader's loving and he's been lacking just that for months now ☹️☹️☹️ (please the Eddie brainrot is consuming my every being.)

☆ The Crawl ☆

rockstar!eddie munson x housewife!afab!reader

CW: 18+ obvs, needy, pathetic sub eddie, dom-ish afab reader, dick riding, cum eating, dirty talkin’ nasty goodness, eddie literally crawling towards us 🫠🫠, facial, implied unprotected p in v sex, dribbler!eddie

author's note: this is my first time writing sub!dribbler!eddie hehehe eds is usually a dom!shooter in my universe. i hope you all enjoy!!! 💌

WC: 686 words

“Need you to have your way with me, sweetheart…need you to use me…Can’t take it anymore. Please."

You meet your husband's desperate gaze as he brushes his stiff cock against your thighs, prodding you for the sensual loving you had promised him when he was to come back from tour.

Craving every inch of your touch, the man is at your mercy. And that damn polaroid picture you sent him a few days ago? The damn polaroid of that pretty pussy of yours, your glistening folds spread apart by your perfectly manicured fingers, the white border holding space for the title, “all for you” signed by your rouge red lipstick? Eddie damn near kicked the tour bus driver out his seat to turn the vehicle back around himself.

But, of course, the show had to go on. And as stoked as Eddie was for Corroded Coffin's Rise of Kas Tour, nothing compares to being with you, wrapped up in your intimacy in the comfort of the home you two share.

And now 385 days later, you two are here.

“Need you to ride me dry…” he pleads. “Need both lips on my cock baby, he’s missed you so much…”

“Nuh uh,” you smirk, enjoying yourself just a little. “Not gonna do away with the flatteries just yet.”

“Fucking please, princess,” Eddie begs. “Been blue-balled all tour, you can’t do this to me.”

“Oh but I can.”

Hellbent and greedy, your smitten, pussy starved husband treads hopelessly towards you on all fours as you guide him to the bedroom.

Too many press photos and interviews. Too many groupies lining up outside the tour bus to claim their spots with Gareth, Grant, and Jeff. And far too many titties to sign, but Eddie knows he shouldn’t refuse, cuz since he built his brand off being a sex-crazed rockstar, rejecting the ladies would mark the end of his — very successful — career.

Too much of tour life on repeat. And never enough of you. And when he finally gets you, the whining only seems to intensify.

Your twinkling, cum-coated tits bounce in Eddie's face as you frantically taunt your clit with his wide, veiny cock. The sight of you tossing your head back, a mewling mess as he splits you open is enough to tug orgasms out of Eddie’s blissfully aching body. And as you clench around him, screams getting louder by the pump, his spewing tip begins to twitch with every jab into your guts.

“Oh baby…shit, mmfuck, ‘m so fucking sensitive baby, you have no idea.”

Your excitement pools at the base of his naval. Knowing he's not going to last all that long, Eddie whimpers at the sight, his photographic conscious saving the episodic eye-sore for a midday work flashback.

“I love you so much,” he moans. Your orgasm begins to splash around him with every bounce. "Missed your beautiful face. Missed your tight fucking pussy."

“I love you, sweet boy,” you hum. “Your dick makes me feel so good, Eddie, fuck. You’re not going anywhere.”

Eddie releases one strained groan before he loses control. Now completely shifting the roles, Eddie pins you into place as he probes for his finish, thrusting into you as the sweat rushes down his body, his full sack beating at your skin as you ride out your last together.

“Fuck baby, yes baby, yes baby,” he pants. “Gonna be the death of me baby, oh fuck…”

And before he completely empties himself in you, Eddie retreats and finishes on your face. He beams down at you in awe as he glazes the hollows of your cheeks, glosses your lips, and caters to the tip of your cum-quenched tongue. Eddie then swoops down to collect his own eager laps, before thanking you with a kiss.

And, to your surprise, when all is said and done, and you’re all wiped down with a nice warm washcloth from the dryer, your husband books it to his office as if there were something else waiting for him behind that door.

“Eds,” you wonder. “What are you doing?”

“I need to write a song.”

[taintedcigs]

GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

♬ I'm in a getaway car, I left you in a motel bar, put the money in a bag and I stole the keys, that was the last time you ever saw me. ♬

summary: in which you return to hawkins to attend your best friend nancy's wedding, facing the problems you left behind, and the one person you abandoned; eddie munson. — inspired by getaway car by t.s.

spotify playlist.

warnings — ANGST, pining and slowburn, two idiots in love!!, second chance at romance, kinda friends to hating each other to lovers, strong language!, smut (eventually, minors dni), portrayal of a toxic, emotionally/physically absive relationship (not the main ship ofc), mentions of alc*hol and drg use.

pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

authors note — okay i sweeearr this is the last time. i made myself a cover and im sooo excited to share this series with yall again, this was one of the first series i posted but i rlly hated how i wrote that so this is almost like an entirely new version of it ! im so proud and so excited for you guys to read it ❥

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- CHAPTERS

chapter one: best of times, the worst of crimes

chapter two: where i end you begin.

chapter three: i’ll swim down, would you?

chapter four: two notes and a heart down

chapter five: struck a match & blew your mind

chapter six: all tomorrow's parties

chapter seven: she’s thunderstorms

chapter eight: made your mark on me

chapter nine: multitude of casualties (coming soon ♡)

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ- BLURBS

flashback when you met me (coming soon ♡)

[tiannasfanfic]

Paparazzi

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Eddie Munson Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: All of Eddie Munson's dreams come true when Corroded Coffin finally catches their big break. But once the record deal is signed, the executives take control of their images, lives and their relationships.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab reader, they/them pronouns. Angst with a Happy Ending. Rockstar!Eddie AU where record labels have old Hollywood like control of their artists lives.

CW: Controlling behavior from record label; social alcohol use; secret relationship; mentions of cheating but no actual cheating; smut (kissing, fingering, blowjob, tit job, p in v, slight exhibitionism); consensual non-con photos taken by paparazzi.

Word Count: 12,937

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore

Life is a bit complicated when you are the secret girlfriend of a rockstar. While it certainly comes with a lot of benefits, and the lifestyle it provided was beyond anything in your wildest dreams, it came at the steep price of some heartache and emotional discomfort.

Though, in all honesty, “secret” was purely a subjective word at this point. The rest of the band knew. All of their people knew. The record label knew. The touring crew knew. His wife knew. All of her people knew. Anyone that needed to know knew.

The general public, on the other hand, did not know, which is how you found yourself the mistress of your high school sweetheart.

How exactly did this happen, you ask?

Now that certainly is quite a story.

Once Eddie’s name had been cleared of all murder charges, the members of Corroded Coffin made getting the hell out of Hawkins their number one priority. It took a little over a year once the last member graduated from high school, but the band was finally able to make the move together to Indianapolis. They shared a small, one room apartment since it was all they could afford and set out to make a name for themselves.

Like most bands, Corroded Coffin was discovered purely by chance. After a couple years of playing in bars around the city, one of their shows was seen by an agent from Los Angeles, who happened in town for a wedding and took a break from family to relax to some local music. That’s how the band met Joe, the man who would become their manager and who would help catapult them to success.

With Joe’s help, they got a demo recorded and then Joe managed to get one of their songs on the radio. It took off, giving the band quite a bit of local popularity. After yet another move, this time to LA, they once again started over fresh, but soon Joe had them playing regular gigs around the city. It was only a matter of time before they were signed to a label and their demo re-recorded to be released as their first studio album.

It was shortly after this, when the band began to rise in popularity, that they realized how little the music industry actually dealt with music. Creating and maintaining an image was the largest priority.

And the image they had, as it turns out, was metal as hell right out the gate.

Four childhood friends from a small town in Indiana that were bullied for being outcasts. They lost three, almost four, classmates to serial killer Henry Creel. Front man, Eddie Munson, was initially accused of the murders due to being a metalhead loner but was eventually cleared on all charges. They survived a devastating earthquake that nearly destroyed their hometown but destroyed their homes. The front man himself then spent months recovering from a physical assault that nearly killed him and left prominent scars on his body. Through it all, they stuck together.

Everything about their story, particularly Eddie’s, was absolute perfection. It paired beautifully with their music and lyrics, with Eddie’s descriptions of bats in an upside down being seen as a metaphor for bullies terrorizing their victims.

It was all perfect except for one tiny detail.

You.

“Absolutely fucking not!” Eddie yelled, jumping to his feet so fast the chair nearly toppled backwards. “Whoever thought of that one can shove it up their ass!”

It been a casual, relaxed Monday morning up until that point. Everyone was well rested coming off the weekend. It had been quiet one, giving you all some much needed time off. The majority of it you and Eddie spent at home. Despite the fact you two went everywhere and did everything together, you never grew tired of each other’s company.

However, everyone went from relaxed to angry in two seconds once Joe told them what the executives at the label had suggested for Eddie to give himself an edger image.

“Eddie, let’s just-“ Joe started to say, slowly rising to his feet behind his desk, his hands making a settle down gesture.

“Let’s just what?” Gareth interrupted, looking as furious as Eddie, but still sitting down.

“Let’s just talk about this calmly,” Joe said. “I wasn’t saying I-“

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Jeff interrupted now, also angry looking.

“Right!” Nick yelled, jumping to his feet. “We’re not going to ditch Y/N and leave them behind for no good fucking reason!”

But in the minds of the label executives, they had a very good reason for suggesting this.

It was all about image. Single front men drew more attention, they said, especially when they looked like Eddie. He was someone every guy wanted to be, and every woman wanted to fuck, which would result in higher popularity in both market segments. Plus, with everything Eddie had been through, they wanted him to project himself as a lonely bad boy, but one who had a different girl on his arm every night.

Apparently, being with someone for fourteen years wasn’t very metal, nor did it mesh with the image of young, rock n’ roll promiscuity they felt Eddie should portray as his lifestyle.

Obviously, this upset you all. After so many years of leaning on each other, you all were a family now. You might as well have been in the band yourself with how close you all were.

You had been around even before Corroded Coffin, when it was just you and Eddie, two middle schoolers who fell deeply in love on the first day of school. You were there for the founding, and you were technically their very first manager even before Joe. You had worked your ass off promoting them as best you could, first at the school then the bars around Hawkins. You went with them to Indianapolis, lived in the shitty apartment with them, and dealt with just as many asshole bar owners to get them on stage time, if not more.

And then you did it all over again without complaint when they set up shop in LA, only under the helpful guiding eye of Joe. It had been a long and crazy road for the five of you, but you got through it all supporting each other.

You belonged here with them, and they knew it as well as you did. They weren’t about to just leave you behind, nor would you have let them. Not now, not ever, and certainly not just a few weeks before their first major tour as an opening act. The tour was kicking off in Seattle, hometown of the headliners. You were going to see the country with them if they had anything to say about it.

“Guys!” Joe barked, finally having to raise his voice to get their attention again. “I don’t agree with it either!”

That got them to simmer down enough that he was able to continue uninterrupted.

“Kid, I get it,” he said, putting his hands on the desk to lean over and make eye contact with the wrecked front man. “Believe me, I get it. Valerie and I hit thirty-five years next week. Coral anniversary. I still have no fucking clue what to get her. But I do know one thing.” Joe pointed one finger at Eddie. “I wouldn’t give her up either on any man’s word either.”

Joe sat back down, then made a gesture for them to do the same. Nick obliged with a heavy sigh, but Eddie came to stand behind your chair, his ringed hands resting on your shoulders. Joe pulled his glasses off to rub the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“It was only a suggestion,” he said as he put his glasses back on. “Nothing has been passed down as Word from God yet. Yet.” He held up a finger as he said the second yet. “But some of the big guys see potential in this storyline for you, which means they see money in it for them.”

“So, what are you saying?” Eddie asked with a tight voice, his hands squeezing your shoulders.

“I’m saying, now that the idea has been brought up, it’s not likely to go away,” Joe said, then leaned back in his chair. “And, judging by how excited they seem about this one, I’m guessing the order to actually sever ties with Y/N will come down soon. They’ll want time for the word about Corroded Coffin’s newly single front man to get around before the tour starts.”

Everyone quietly stared at him, speechless.

“That quick, eh?” you said, finally breaking the silence. Joe nodded regretfully. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you looked up at Eddie with a half grin. “Babe, most guys would kill for this chance. You might want to think it over a little more carefully.”

Joe was the only one to laugh, but he quickly turned it into a cough at the glare he got from Eddie.

The glare softened before it was turned on you, but you still got glared at regardless.

“This isn’t funny, Precious,” he said, and you could see it in his eyes that he was close to panic. “They’re fools if they think I would discard you so easily into the fires of Mount Doom.”

One thing you learned about Eddie Munson a long time ago is, when he’s under a lot of stress, be it from the chord of a song being difficult to having to hide at Skull Rock wanted for murder, he starts making Lord of the Rings references about the situation.

You reached up to rest one hand on top of his and gave it a soft squeeze. Eddie quickly wound his fingers through yours so you were holding hands.

“You’ve gotta admit though,” you said, smiling reassuringly. “Those assholes do have a point, babe. Most guys don’t get into this business while attached. They live a rowdy life and never settle down until they either marry a porn star or marry the mistress they cheated on their first wife with.”

As you spoke, Eddie’s face became a mask of abject horror. He quickly came around to drop to his knees in front of your chair and took your face in his hands.

“Sweetheart, please tell me we’re not splitting up right now,” he whispered, looking near tears.

“We’re not,” you said firmly, taking his face in your hands. “Absolutely fucking not. I just said they have a good point.”

Relief washed over his face, and he wrapped you in his arms. After you exchanged a tight hug, Joe cleared his throat so your attention would come back to him.

“Now, as I was about to say before you all started yelling at me,” he said, pausing to give them a fatherly glare before continuing. “There is an alternative, but it will require a lot of discretion from you two lovebirds.”

Since Corroded Coffin didn’t have much media attention outside of local music papers, you were still an unknown name in the scene. Local places knew you as Eddie’s girl. In interviews, if relationships ever came up, Eddie had only referred to you as “my girl” instead of by name. You certainly weren’t in any of the official photos the band had done. You could fade into the background easily and go unnoticed.

Based on Joe’s suggestion, which was immediately approved by the guys before you could get a word in edgewise, you went from Eddie’s longtime sweetheart to his personal assistant. That was actually the next matter on the agenda anyway since Eddie was the only member of the band without one and he needed to get the hiring done soon before the tour started.

Two birds, one stone, as they say.

“Wait, wait, wait!” you protested as the guys were taking turns high giving Joe for his ingenuity. “I’ve never been a personal assistant before! I’m not going to know what the hell I’m doing!”

“You’ll be fine,” Joe said, turning to you with a warm smile. “Trust me, my dear, I’ve had many personal assistants over the years and I’m quite sure none of them knew what they were doing either.”

Fortunately, Gareth’s personal assistant, Lucy, did know what she was doing. She was able to give you a crash course in the weeks leading up to the tour so you would know what the typical day of a personal assistant is like before you were throw into it.

While you took to your new responsibilities with ease and spent just as much time with Eddie day to day as you did before, the change in your status didn’t really become apparent until after you had left the home comforts of LA.

Two nights before the first concert of the tour, the headliners wanted to give everyone a proper welcome to Seattle by treating the bands to a night on the town. Since It was their first ever tour as the main act, they were in the mood to party. Band members, their entourages, and dates only.

Since it would look a little odd for Eddie to be the only one showing up with his personal assistant as a date, you had to break the news to him that you weren’t going. This resulted in you having to nearly force him into going since staying in with his personal assistant rather than partying with a famous band would look even odder.

While you were just as upset as Eddie, you didn’t let it show. He could tell. You knew he could tell. But keeping a brave face kept his cracks from showing. He could keep it together if you could, and that’s exactly what you did. You helped him get ready and shared the elevator down with the band until it reached the floor your room was on. All of the boys were sad you wouldn’t be joining and hugged you before you exited. With nothing left to do today, your plan was to raid the mini fridge and cry.

You were well into your second tiny bottle of vodka when a frantic knocking at the door to your room nearly gave you a heart attack. Then your mind immediately went to Eddie. Thinking he had changed his mind about staying, you rushed to the door, not sure if you were about to hug him or yell at him.

Instead, you found a very breathless Lucy standing outside.

“Here,” she said, thrusting several shopping bags into your arms. “Change into that and get your ass down to the hotel bar pronto.”

You blinked several times, looking from Lucy to the bag then back to Lucy.

“What’s going o-“

“No time to explain, just do it!” she hissed urgently, then retired to her room across from yours.

Twenty minutes later, as you stepped out of the elevator into the hotel lobby, you immediately regretted your decision to play along with whatever Lucy had planned.

Inside the bag had been an outfit that made it easier for you to blend in among the groupies scattered about the lobby. It was tight in all the right places, layered everywhere else just right to smooth everything out as it hugged close your body and pushed everything up to just the right angles. When paired with the high-quality black wig you found one of the other bags, you hardly recognized yourself. While it was far from your normal style, while in the privacy of your room, even you had to admit that you looked damn good. Feeling bold, you added some dark makeup, the jacket from the final bag and a pair of your own shoes to top everything off.

It was easy to feel confident while in your room, and even while on the way downstairs, but now as several patrons in the lobby looked you over, appraising you, you felt exposed and extremely uncomfortable.

You swallowed nervously, took a deep breath to calm yourself, and then did your best to ignore any leering stares as you headed for the hotel bar just as Lucy instructed.

A loud cacophony of voices and laughter hit your ears as soon as you walked in. The place was packed. You hadn’t realized this was where the bands would be gathering to meet up. It looked like they were still waiting on a few people, so they were having a few drinks as they waited to set off.

As you made your way over to sit at the bar itself, you glanced around the room. It didn’t take you long to spot Corroded Coffin. You couldn’t help but smile seeing them. Three of the guys seemed to have already found a companion for the night, while Eddie sat there playing with his rings and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else right now. It almost made you laugh how sullen he looked, but you kept your cool as you took a seat. Since Lucy hadn’t given you any other instructions, you ordered yourself a drink.

Fortunately, you didn’t have to wait around long to figure out what scheme Lucy had been a part of. Not long after you began sipping your drink, you were fetched from the bar by Garth’s bodyguard and lead to the Corroded Coffin table.

Gareth grinned at you as he watched your approach. The glimmer he had in his eye told you this had been his plan rather than Lucy’s.

“Good evening, miss,” Gareth said to you as you stopped at their table. “I couldn’t help but notice you sitting at the bar all alone. Are expecting company this evening?”

You shook your head, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

Gareth straightened up brightly, then winked at the redhead sitting with him, who giggled.

Sometime between high school and now, Gareth had become quite charming with the ladies. Granted, he wasn’t trying at all that hard with you, just enough to sell the ruse, but whatever he had said to the young woman earlier clearly still had her under his spell.

“Wonderful!” he said, then gestured extravagantly to Eddie. “My friend here also happens to be without company for the evening. We’re about to head out to dinner, but it doesn’t feel right for him to be here alone. Would you care to join him?”

You finally let your gaze slide around the table, taking in the happy grins of Jeff and Nick, before letting your gaze land on Eddie.

And you almost lost your shit laughing.

He was now sitting with his eyes closed, his facial expression a mix of annoyance and resignation, as if he were now mentally preparing himself for a long evening with unwanted companionship.

“Hmm, I’m not so sure,” you said, keeping your gaze on Eddie and tilting your head at him. “Your friend sure doesn’t look like he wants my company.”

At the sound of your voice, Eddie’s eyes shot open, and he looked up at you in confusion. It took a moment for him to register what he was seeing. His jaw dropped as realization set in.

“Pfft, that’s just his normal face,” Gareth said, making all the girls at the table laugh, and you looked back over to see him wave his hand through the air in a gesture of dismissal. “I’m sure he’d love to have your company.” He looked over at the front man with a grin. “Wouldn’t you, Eddie?”

Despite the verbal cue from Gareth, Eddie just continued to stare at you until the blonde sitting between him and Jeff finally elbowed him in the ribs.

“Oh, y-yeah,” Eddie murmured, jumping out of the booth. He cleared his throat then stepped aside, gesturing to the seat with a bow. “It’d be an honor if you would grace me with your presence, m’lady.”

The other women at table giggled at Eddie as you lowered yourself into the booth, but as you scooted over to make room for Eddie, the brunette at Nick’s side started to pout.

“Aww,” she said, winking at you. “I was just about to say, if he didn’t want your company, we certainly wouldn’t mind a third.” She looked up at Nick and winked at him. “Would we, Nicky?”

Nick nearly choked on his drink, eyes slightly widening in horror at the idea of a threesome with the girl he thought of like a sister.

“N-nah,” he said, fumbling his words for a second before thinking of a good response. “I’m a one-woman man and, baby, you’re all I need tonight.”

It was a good recovery. Nick’s words had brunette giggling and blushing. You couldn’t help but grin yourself, remembering back when Nick used to be a stammering fool around the other sex instead of the smooth talker he was now.

You couldn’t help but wonder right then where the time had gone.

As soon as Eddie was seated next to you, he wasted no time before throwing his arm over your shoulders and pulling you close. A round of introductions began, where you then pretended to not know anyone at the table.

It didn’t take long for the guys to return their attention back to their respective ladies, leaving you and Eddie in your own little bubble at the end of the table.

“Getting a bit handsy aren’t we?” you couldn’t help but giggle as he leaned in to nuzzle your ear, keeping your tone soft enough only he could hear you. “After all, we only just met, like, five seconds ago.”

Your hand slid over into his lap to softly squeeze his thigh as you spoke. Eddie sucked his breath in through his teeth, then you felt him grin against your ear.

“Well, they do say the front man of Corroded Coffin is a bit of a whore,” he said to you softly, then took ahold of your chin with his free hand and turned your head gently so you were looking at him. “And I’d say that makes me your whore, now, doesn’t it?”

Much later that night, when Eddie brought the raven-haired woman back to the hotel, he made sure everyone in the surrounding rooms heard exactly how much of a whore he was for you.

That was how things continued for most nights on the tour, with you being snuck along to parties as Eddie’s piece of ass for the night. While this wasn’t what either of you had pictured when dreaming of your life together once he made it big, Eddie didn’t care so long as you could be by his side. No matter how you were dressed, now he actually had the money to the queen you always were to him. The whole crew figured out the scheme halfway into the tour schedule, but they pretended not to for plausible deniability’s sake.

The record label wasn’t exactly happy with Eddie’s interpretation of their desires but couldn’t exactly say it wasn’t effective. The front man of Corroded Coffin was projecting exactly the image they wanted; a hard partying bad boy who had his pick of women every night. Who cared if it was the same woman in a wig? So long as Eddie kept playing it up, and your true identity went undetected, they had to let it go.

That was until they were in the studio working on their next album and Eddie unknowingly opened the door for them to finally step in.

A couple months had passed since that first tour successfully wrapped up. Corroded Coffin was enjoying more fame and publicity, but despite the happy, smiling personas the guys wore in public, they were all varying degrees of miserable. It was hard to be happy when they had little to no control over their lives.

On the day they signed with their record deal with the label, Nick made the joke that they were signing their souls away. It turned out to be a very prophetic statement. While Eddie received the brunt of it being the front man, life wasn’t much better for the rest of the band. None of them really had a say in major life decisions anymore. Even potential relationships had to be approved by label executives first.

While everyone was upset about it, there was no one more upset than Eddie. By signing his soul away, he felt like he had inadvertently signed yours away as well.

A few months after they began working on the album, the next big story in entertainment news broke. An actor just had a baby with his former personal assistant. This was the same personal assistant he was caught having an affair with the year before via telephoto lens.

While it wasn’t exactly the same situation, it inspired Eddie. Now that Corroded Coffin had started attending more publicity events, he wanted things to go back to normal with you two. He missed being able to be free with his affection for you. He had Joe pitch the idea to the label that involved him starting to publicly date his own personal assistant. It shouldn’t cause a stir like the actor did because he was single, Joe reasoned on Eddie’s behalf. They could restart their relationship over in the public eye. No one would be any wiser. Pretending to be a new couple wouldn’t be hard since the guys often teased you both about how your honeymoon period was still going on.

While the label executives did agree it was time for Eddie to start settling down and have a regular date on his arm, they had different ideas as to who would be his girl.

Eddie was then informed he would be entering an arranged relationship with someone of their choosing. However, they wouldn’t be dating for long. Not due to a breakup, but because they would be married within the next two months. It was an arrangement that would be beneficial for everyone, the executives reassured.

For his future bride, they had chosen adult actress and dancer Deandra Day. She had starred in the two most recent Corroded Coffin videos and had recently began dancing live at their local shows. The new storyline the label had in mind for Eddie was the bad boy that finally met the right woman and settled down.

And, with that, they expressly stated that Eddie was now a one-woman man effectively immediately. His public persona was to now be a man deeply in love with his wife. There were to be no more one-night stands with women from hotel bars.

The news hit hard, for both you and Eddie.

Marriage was one of the things you two had always put off for later. Mainly it had been Eddie who wanted to wait, wanting to put on a grand spectacle when it finally did happen. He had known on the very first day of sixth grade when you gave him your extra pencil that he was going to marry you. He had told you as much right then and he could still remember how baffled you initially looked after that statement. But then you grinned and said okay, the memory of voice right then could still make Eddie’s heart skip a beat.

Eddie still wanted to marry you just as much now as he did when he was twelve years old. The idea of marrying anyone else completely shattered him.

They were leaving you with your duties as his personal assistant, but little else. Your position ensured you would still be there backstage at concerts, interviews, on tours and on location during shoots. That was it. The after parties, fancy dinners, VIP sections, limo tours of cities, everything else was cut off to you now. You would have to stand back and watch as another woman took your rightful place.

While you were just as upset as Eddie about it, you weren’t exactly surprised. The executives didn’t like it when their artists outsmarted them. And you had been warned that they held grudges. Joe had long suspected the label would eventually make a play to get rid of you again in order to mold Eddie into the artist they wanted him to be. As much as Joe had tried to prepare you for it, that didn’t stop it from hurting when finally happened.

Ironically, the one redeeming quality in the whole situation was actually Eddie’s wife to be. The label had unknowingly given the both of you a huge boon in choosing Deandra for this new role.

Deandra had no interest in an intimate connection with Eddie. For her, the marriage was purely a business arrangement to further her career goals. After being in the adult industry for so long, she was interested in branching out into music. While she was a talented singer, getting a foot in the door was hard for anyone just starting out, no matter their fame in other form of entertainment. The music industry was very competitive, and one that had a lot of turnover. Deandra didn’t want to be a one hit wonder or have one good album then fade into the background. She actually wanted to have a long-term career. This marriage to Eddie would open the doors she needed in order to be successful much faster than they would normally open for her. Her commitment to the label only required the marriage to last for a minimum two years with the option to renew, which she had no intention of doing.

While on the surface it seemed like there was nothing in this for Eddie aside from having a beautiful actress on his arm, that couldn’t have been further from the truth. The evenings spent on Eddie’s arm may have ended for you, but the appearance of a steady relationship opened other avenues for you to be together.

There was no need to recruit Deandra into your conspiracy. She identified the relationship after Eddie introduced you at the very first video shoot simply by the way he did it.

“He introduced you the way any man should introduce his wife,” she explained after asking them directly how long they’d been together. “And most men I’ve met don’t even introduce their own wives with that much reverence, much less their personal assistants.”

With her being in your corner, your time with Eddie actually increased after the wedding. Since the record label had no control over Deandra or her schedule, outside of her contractual appearances with Eddie, she was rarely around. Since a majority of her work in adult movies was based in the San Francisco area, she had no intention of ever selling her house to permanently move to Los Angeles. When the studio prodded at Eddie to finally purchase a house with his wife, Deandra made sure she was shooting out of town and busy with projects for other clients. You were officially sent by Deandra in her stead to give you and Eddie the opportunity to finally pick out your dream home together without the prying eyes of the label.

It ended up being way easier for a member of staff to sneak you in and out of the house everyday than it was pretending you were a groupie. The modest mansion just off the beach in Malibu had a six-car garage, two of which were always empty. All you had to do was lay down in the backseat of a car with heavily tinted windows, until they pulled inside and the doors closed. No one was ever the wiser.

Once you were inside, you and Eddie could do as you pleased. The decorator had ensured the place was outfitted with heavy duty blinds and drapes, an oddity for a mansion with such an amazing view of the ocean, but it ensured total privacy. You could be yourselves, even on the rare times Deandra stayed in Malibu. But it was easy to keep to yourselves, Deandra had her own room while you and Eddie had the master bedroom.

The end date of the arranged marriage came while Corroded Coffin was back in the studio working on their fifth album. The joint statement announcing Eddie and Deandra’s separation had been drafted by the label and Deandra’s PR team. The announcement would coincide with the album’s release to garner publicity. From adult movies to music, this was a common marketing tool many entertainers used to drum up publicity for new releases. Sad news such as a divorce always brought in sympathy dollars.

With the popularity of Corroded Coffin at an all-time high, the label executives had been in good spirits about the band for a while. They had started loosening the reins some with its members, allowing them more freedoms in their personal relationships. Joe felt confident that so long as the album succeeded as well as they’d hoped, and the divorce went smoothly, that Eddie would be able to enjoy that same freedom as well.

But just as you began to see light at the end of the tunnel, it winked out of existence.

A former disgruntled employee spoke to a tabloid about the suspiciously close relationship between the married front man of Corroded Coffin and his personal assistant. They provided firsthand accounts of witnessing suspicious behavior that occurred between the two of you.

While the source remained anonymous, everyone suspected an aide that Jeff had recently hired and then almost immediately fired after catching him stealing his fiancés jewelry. The incidents described in the interview were fairly recent, and the former aide was the only unknown among those present for them.

Luckily for the label, the editor of the tabloid who purchased the story owed one of the executives a favor and gave him a call as soon as they had bought the rights to the story. An arrangement was worked out for the label to purchase the story, and it was swiftly buried.

Unluckily for you, the label was angry. While they were willing to tolerate some controversy and scandal generated by their artists, they did not abide major scandals like adultery.

As of that day, you were barred from all properties owned or affiliated with the label. You were also barred from any concert or event sponsored by the label. On top of that, Eddie was told not to enter into any relationships once the divorce was announced because once it was final, they would have someone new already lined up for him. This time, they expected him to be a truly devoted husband and even possibly start a family with his new wife.

It was a complete disaster.

The only time you had with each other now was at home. As much as the label wanted to, they couldn’t control what went on inside the privacy of Eddie’s house, and you technically lived there. In retaliation, they started booking him for more event appearances. publicity appearances and after party appearances, keeping him away from home as much as possible. When he was at home, he was exhausted, and you let him rest as much as possible.

With the new album fixing to be released, a new tour was already being planned. It was to be Corroded Coffins first tour as the only headliner, with their opening act. But it was hard for anyone to be excited knowing you’d effectively be a prisoner on the tour bus unable to enjoy it with them. You wouldn’t be able to leave while at the venues since the tour was label sponsored. Most of the hotels they would be staying at were label affiliated, which ensured you couldn’t set foot on the properties.

Even though the story about Eddie and his personal assistant never broke, whispers overheard at the tabloid office alerted some paparazzi to a potential story regarding Corroded Coffin’s front man. No one knew specifics, of course, just that there were some rumors that Eddie Munson might be cheating on his wife. But paparazzi don’t need specifics to latch onto a lead. The house was now under constant watch, and you and Eddie both were constantly followed. As production on the album grew closer to wrapping, it began to get extremely hard for you to slip to and from your own home unnoticed.

After several miserable weeks, Deandra approached both you and Eddie with an idea.

It was a bold idea. A daring, not to mention extremely provocative, idea. But it was an idea that, if executed correctly, could be just the ticket to the freedom you all so desperately needed. But while it was you and Eddie that would be exposing yourselves to major controversy and possible public humiliation, you weren’t the only three people that would be affected by it. You sought out the rest of the band and they gave their blessing. With Joe, you two decided it was better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

It was all up to you and Eddie now.

Using the labels own marketing tactics against them, the three of you decided the best time to enact the plan would be the night after the new album released. The label was sitting on the joint statement regarding the divorce for at least another week, giving the album time to naturally rise up the charts before giving it that sympathy boost.

There was also a second reason for choosing that particular night. While Deandra had been in town for a couple of weeks, that particular evening she would be out for most it. After heading to dinner with her normal entourage, she would then be spending the rest of the evening MCing an event at a local club. With the after party that was to follow, Deandra didn’t expect to be home until close to sunup the next day. It wouldn’t look weird for Eddie to stay at home since they rarely attended anything together save for award shows. Deandra felt like the plan would have a better effect if she were just merely out of the house for the night rather than in another city for several days, if not weeks. It made the whole thing more taboo, in her opinion.

When the night in question finally came around, your nerves kicked up. The finality of it all was starting to sink in. After tonight, there would be no way to hide anymore, no way to blend in with the crowd. You and Eddie both were about to be put at the mercy of public opinion and let the fans decide your ultimate fate out here in California.

Once Deandra had left to head out for dinner, and a suitably long enough time had passed, it was time. Eddie got everything ready while you got changed.

The backyard of your home wasn’t large by mansion standards, but it was far from small by normal standards. It was wider than it was long, holding a rectangle shaped pool with a built-in hot tub on the side closest to the house. Even with that space taken up, there was still room for a small yard complete with privacy fence on one side of the pool, and an outdoor cooking space on the other side. The view below took in the beach and beyond that the beautiful Pacific Ocean.

As the sun lowered past the midpoint of the horizon, the outdoor lights in this little backyard paradise automatically came on. While there were bright security lights at the front and sides of the house, back here the lighting was soft rather than bright, programmed with quiet relaxation in mind. Clear garden lights hung underneath the porch, illuminating the sitting area and hot tub with a gentle glow. Dimly lit solar lamps lined the pool area with enough light to watch your step. The pool itself was lit from within, the water glowing with a soft illumination. There were a few lights dotting along the structure of the house to add lighting to the house itself.

It was your quiet paradise that Eddie helped you find but had been unable to fully enjoy.

Until tonight, at least.

Once you heard the outside speakers begin to softly play some newer music that you both liked, you knew it was time. You made your way downstairs, wearing the bikini Deandra had bought for you earlier that week, your heart pounding the whole way. Every time you caught sight of yourself in a mirror, you couldn’t help but pause to gawk.

While it wasn’t so far away from your normal style that it looked completely out of place on you, it certainly displayed a lot more skin than you were normally willing to show. It fit you well though, the thin fabric hugging your body comfortably tight. Whoever designed it had both sex appeal and wearability in mind.

After a few stops just to stare at yourself, you finally made it to the dark kitchen and then the sliding door leading to the backyard. Looking out, you could see Eddie had already settled himself into the hot tub, his hair wet now and plastered back on his head. He was in a relaxed posed; both arms up behind him on the edge of the hot tub, with his head tilted back and eyes closed.

Your gaze shifted over to your yard, then let your eyes drift slightly beyond it to the vine covered fence. Somewhere in that area hidden by vines and shadows, you knew two of the slats in the fence had been cut from the outside. The hole this left could easily accommodate a wide-angle camera lens. It was a fairly recent vandalism, done within the last few weeks when the paparazzi really began staking out the house. And you knew with as many people that had been caught spying on the house in that same time period, it was likely that the hole was always manned.

Normally, this gross violation of privacy would have severely angered you, but now it had the opportunity to work in your favor. Whoever was currently behind the peep hole would be getting a clear view of everything that was about to happen.

You took a deep breath, tried to calm yourself one last time, and stepped out the door.

Eddie didn’t hear the door when you opened it, too lost in this peaceful moment of solitude. However, he did hear the soft click of it shutting over the low music and soft hum of the jets and lifted his head to turn towards you. It took a second for the image he was seeing to translate in his brain, but when it did, his eyes widened, and his jaw dropped.

No matter how many times over the years that Eddie saw you naked or in something he thought was sexy, he always behaved like it was the first time.

“Goddamn babe,” he called out breathlessly, arms coming down from the edge of the hot tub so he could lean forward, forearms on his knees, as he carefully watched your approach.

You took your time as you made your way over to the hot tub, your eyes taking him in as much as he was you. The heat of water made his skin flushed, which when paired with the intense gaze he was giving you made him look almost feral.

A cool breeze blew in off the ocean just as reached the hot tub. With only the bikini covering you, goosebumps slightly rose up on your skin and you felt your nipples hardening at the temperature change. The thin fabric covering your tits did nothing to hide this, and you saw Eddie’s gaze dip down to your chest.

As you stepped down into the water, you watched his eyes darken as he took you in again now that you were at close range.

“Deandra did good, I take it?” you asked, making your way down the rest of the steps until you were standing on the bottom.

Eddie’s head rapidly bobbed up and down.

“My soon to be ex-wife has excellent taste,” he said, his tongue running over his bottom lip as his face started to grow more flushed.

Right as you started to lower yourself into the water to take the seat across from Eddie, he lifted one arm up and extended his hand out to you. You took a couple steps forward, closing the distance to accept the gesture by placing your hand in his. With a gentle tug on your arm, he pulled you into his lap, his free hand resting on your waist to help steady you as you positioned yourself to straddle his thighs.

“Hi there,” you said with a coy smile, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Come here often?”

“Not exactly here, per say,” Eddie replied with a chuckle as his hands rested comfortably on your hips, his head tilting back up to look at you. “But I hope that changes soon.”

With a smile, you leaned down to kiss him passionately. His response was immediate with no hesitation, his lips latching onto yours to return your intensity with his own. As your tongues met just inside his lips, Eddie slid one hand up your back, traveling upwards until it finally came to a rest on the back of your neck. He held onto you tightly, his remaining hand pulling at your hip to slide you forward in his lap.

With your bodies now so close together, chest to chest, you gave your hips a gentle roll against him. Eddie softly groaned into your mouth, his hips slightly thrusting upwards to match your movement.

Then he broke away from you just enough so he could speak, his eyes gazing up into yours.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” he asked you, voice low and soft enough it couldn’t be heard by anyone else but you. “It’s not too late to back out.”

You shook your head.

“It is,” you said, lightly running your nails down the back of his neck. “They’ve got photos of us kissing now at least.”

Eddie studied your face, as if looking for any sign of hesitation, then nodded before returning his lips to yours.

It was a lot easier to let go and forget about your audience than you would’ve thought. But as Eddie’s lips moved downwards towards your neck, and then started sucking on that one spot just below your ear, everything around the hot tub just faded away.

You moaned softly, head tilting back as your hips pushed forward into his impulsively. A soft grunt left Eddie, his ass bucking up slightly at the feeling. You hadn’t done it very hard, just enough for him to feel you rub against his hardening length. But it was enough to spur him on.

The hand on your hip slipped down slightly to rest on your ass. Squeezing it tightly, Eddie pulled your hips forward again as he thrust his own towards you. You moaned softly into his mouth, helping him out by rocking your hips down into his thrusts. He stopped pulling at you when he realized you were matching the movements, instead holding onto you firmly as bucked up into you harder. His motions were rough enough to make your body jar upwards on his lap. You both swallowed each other’s moans, the thin fabric of your respective swimsuits doing little to dull the sensations of you grinding against each other.

Your hands slid down his back, raking his skin with your nails as they went. It wasn’t a hard scratch, but not a light one either, making Eddie hiss softly, his hips thrusting hard against you at the feeling.

Eddie’s lips traveled lower on your neck, down to your collarbone. There he started kissing and nibbling his way all the way across your chest, taking particular care to bite at the hallow of your throat. The feeling of his teeth bearing down on the delicate tendons just under the skin made you gasp, almost yelp even. You could feel Eddie’s lips twist upwards in a grin against your chest.

As he continued to make his way across, the hand on your ass slid lower, caressing down over the curve of the cheek until it was under you. His arm slid under your thighs and lifted you a little. This now put your chest at Eddie’s eye level, and he immediately dove forward for your tits. Holding you there, his lips latched onto one through the fabric of your bikini top. As his tongue swirled around one of your nipples, his free hand slid around from your neck to roughly grasp your breast from underneath.

“Mmm,” you moaned softly, as your back arched forward towards him.

One of your hands went to the back of his neck, steadying yourself as you pushed yourself back down to resume grinding against him. A loud groan erupted from Eddie, his hips thrusting up as he bit down on your nipple, making you gasp. He slowly pulled away, still holding it in his teeth for a second before letting go.

“Now that wasn’t very nice, Princess,” he growled softly, but you could hear the playfulness in his voice.

“You don’t love me because I’m nice,” you said, smirking as you brushed your lips over his.

You felt him smile against your mouth and you softly ran the tip of your tongue over his bottom hip. Eddie shivered at the feeling.

“Good point,” he said softly, his hands moving to rest on your lower back. “But remember, sweetheart, I’m not particularly nice either.”

Eddie quickly brought one hand around to slide it between your bodies, pushing it down between your legs. He began rubbing his open hand back and forth over your mound, his palm gently pressing against your clit with each pass up. Your moaned softly, arching your chest forward, and Eddie slid the hand on your back further upwards to the rest between your shoulder blades. His fingers drifted apart with each pass, letting two fingers lay on either side of your slit to rub outer lips, while he pressed his middle finger down to rub between them.

With each pass of his finger, he stopped just shy of your clit, passing just close enough you could feel how close it, but not quite touching where you most wanted him to. Not until a soft whimper left your lips and your legs started to twitch did he finally oblige and give you want you wanted. He pulled his hand forward, drawing his middle finger up along your slit until he could slowly circle the tip around the sensitive nub.

The combination of the light pressure and the slick material of the bikini rubbing against your most tender areas soon had you quivering in his arms. Unconsciously, your hips started to move in small circles in tandem with the circles Eddie was making on around your clit. It added a new sensation, making his finger alternate between firm and featherlight pressure, teasing you one second then pleasuring you the next.

Your head tilted back again, eyes closed, and Eddie’s lips soon found the side of your neck. When your moans started to grow louder, he moved away from your clit to push his hand back between your legs. He wiggled his fingers past the edge of your bikini to push it aside and sink his middle finger all the way into you.

“Eddie, god,” you moaned, your nails digging into his back, as he slowly started to finger you. “Always feel so good.”

“Yeah?” he asked against your neck, and you nodded as his tongue traced over the purpling skin under his lips. “Love it when you call me your god.”

You moaned in response as he added his ring finger next to his middle and curled them both upwards, hitting just that right spot. Crying out loudly with your head thrown back, you held onto him tightly as your hips thrust forward against his hand. This pushed his fingers deeper and made you gasp.

When he started pushing the heel of his hand against your clit, grinding into it with every inward thrust of his fingers, it didn’t take long for you to come undone. Clenching around his fingers like a vice, you completely let go, screaming Eddie’s name along with incoherent praise.

Eddie continued to finger you through your orgasm, gradually slowing down as you came down from your high. When your moans softened into whimpers and you began squirming, he finally pulled his hand away, only to begin opening the front of his swim trunks.

As you shifted your hips back a bit to give him more room, some advice Deandra had given you came floating up in your memory.

“Remember, make it really good,” she had said. “And make it so damn dirty they’ve got no choice but to go straight to print, no matter how many favors they owe.”

In this brief moment of clarity, you realized that, yes, while this all had been very enjoyable so far, it was rather vanilla compared to what you were used to. It seemed like Eddie was holding back, either from his own nerves or his worries for how you were really doing with all this. He was going to need to get over his hesitation quickly if they really wanted to make headlines.

“Eddie? Baby?” you said softly, dragging the tips of your nails across his upper back. He grunted in response just as you felt his cock come free of his swim trunks. “I don’t think you fingering me and then me riding you with all the good stuff under water is going to cut it.”

Eddie paused for a second, then pulled back a bit to look at you, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“What do you have in mind, Princess?” he asked.

You inclined your head upwards towards the edge of the hot tub.

“Why don’t you hop up there, and I’ll show you,” you said, leaning in for a moment to flick your tongue over his lips.

You pulled yourself out of Eddie’s lap and he lifted himself out of the hot tub to sit right at the edge, his feet resting in the seat. As he did this, you briefly submerged yourself under water, getting yourself completely wet. Eddie watched as you resurfaced, leaning back on one hand, and lazily stroking his cock as you wiped the water out of your face.

It was quite the sight to open your eyes to and you couldn’t help but pause to watch for a few seconds. His grin got even bigger, watching your eyes move up and down in time with his hand and your lips open slightly.

Then you came forward to kneel between his legs on the seat he just vacated. One hand immediately went to his cock to bat his hand away, wrapping your fingers around his hard shaft in their stead. Kissing along his chest, you started working his cock with your hand. You kept a slow pace until your lips were at the base of his shaft, where you then ran your tongue down his full length.

Eddie’s legs twitched and he muttered a soft curse. You shifted your gaze up to see a soft look on his face despite how intently he was watching you. You paused, quirking a brow at him. He brought his other hand over to rest it on your shoulder, giving it a soft, reassuring squeeze before sliding over to the back of your neck. With that last check in complete and permission to continue given, you turned your attention fully to his cock.

After slowly circling your tongue around the tip several times, you took the head of his cock into your mouth. Eddie started to let out a deep groan at the feeling of the warmth and wetness enveloping him, but it changed to a cry of surprise and pleasure as you hollowed out your cheeks to apply a deep suction.

“Fuck!” Eddie cried, his hand letting go of your neck to grip a handful of your hair instead. “S-shit, babe. That’s it. That’s my girl. You know how I like it.”

Indeed, you did, and you needed no further encouragement. You started bobbing your mouth up and down in just the head of his cock, keeping up with the slow rhythm of your hand stroking his shaft. Another low moan left Eddie, and you felt his fingers flexing in your hair. He wasn’t pushing or pulling at you yet, merely holding onto you.

As you increased the speed of your hand, you lowered your mouth down on him a little more with each downstroke. Already you could taste his precum, the tip of his cock leaking on your tongue and coating the roof of your mouth.

Once his cock was halfway in your mouth, you moved your hand away from his shaft and took the rest down your throat in one fast motion.

Eddie gasped loudly, and when you looked up you could see him staring at you in awe, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head.

“H-Holy s-shit,” he groaned before pinching his eyes closed and tilting his head back as his entire body shuddered.

You set a slow and steady rhythm, sliding all but the tip of his cock out of your mouth before taking it all back in again. The sounds Eddie made every time he felt your throat around his cock made your core throb.

After taking him down your throat a couple more times, Eddie’s moans became whimpers, and his hips began to twitch upwards. When that happened, you slid his cock from your mouth, your hand returning to stroke his shaft.

“Wanna do something really dirty?” you asked, batting your eyes up at him before flicking your tongue over the tip of his cock.

Eddie shivered and gasped, his eyes heavy lidded and dilated as he watched you.

“Maybe,” he said, brushing some hair away that had fallen in your face. “What were you thinking abo-“

The sudden halt in his speech was caused by you leaning up towards him just enough that the head of his cock nestled between your tits. You then angled yourself so that the length of his shaft was laying between them.

“Oh f-fuck yes,” he finally said, arching his hips up a little to thrust his wet cock upwards between your tits.

With a smile, you brought your free hand up to the bottom of your bikini top. You pulled it away from your chest just enough that you could easily slip his cock underneath. The new sensation of the wet fabric against one side of his cock and your smooth, warm skin on the other made Eddie groan. It seemed like he didn’t know what to do with his hand suddenly as he watched you with wide eyes, so he moved it behind him to lean on as well.

Shifting your body a little bit more, you got into a better position so it would be a smooth glide. You moved his cock a little bit then tilted your head down, taking a second to gather all the saliva in your mouth to spit it down between your tits and his cock. A stream of curses left Eddie’s mouth as he watched you do it again a moment later, this time directly on to his cock.

“Fucking hell,” he panted, legs twitching as you pushed your tits closer together with your arms, pushing them closer around his cock. “Always so fucking filthy for me, baby, fuck.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d let him fuck your tits. After nearly twenty years together, fifteen of which as lovers, there was very little you two hadn’t done together in bed. But it was one of those things that didn’t happen often, so when it did, Eddie went mad.

And, after fifteen years as lovers, you knew exactly what buttons were left to push before Eddie went absolutely berserk.

“Like that, baby?” you asked, moving your body so he cock began to glide easily between your tits at a steady pace.

“Fuck, baby, I fucking love it,” he groaned deeply.

Eddie’s ass was starting to buck up off the tiled edge of the hot tub. His breathing was becoming erratic, his cheeks turning red as he tried to hold onto himself for as long as he could. Your skin was smeared with precum as it leaked down his shaft. When you looked down and saw this, you paused temporarily and opened your mouth, letting him thrust the head of his cock past your lips so you could gently suck on it, cleaning it off. Eddie gasped loudly at the feel of your mouth around him again and you felt his whole-body twitch.

Suddenly, he completely stopped moving and leaned forward, taking ahold of both of your shoulders in order to push you away, his cock slipping free of your bikini top. You didn’t have time to say anything before he had jumped back in the hot tub with you. He took ahold of you then spun you around, pushing you to the edge of the hot tub so you were bent over it.

While there wasn’t much sense left in Eddie, there was enough to make him be careful of how he angled your body. He made sure to position you in such a way that nothing of yours could be seen or photographed by outside parties. That was his one stipulation to agreeing to this. He didn’t care who saw what of his, but the Full Y/N Experience, as he put it, was for his eyes only.

Once he had the angle right, where a semi side profile of your bodies could be seen, along with a left clear view of your faces, Eddie pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and held them open. Using his free hand, he lined himself up with your entrance and then pushed the head of his cock into you.

You moaned loudly, your hands gripping the side of the hot tub as both of his came up to grip onto your ass cheeks. He lifted them slightly and spread them, watching as he slowly sheathed himself deep inside your aching cunt. The feeling of him bottoming out made your legs tremble, a long moan leaving your throat at the feeling of him being so deep in you.

Eddie gave a couple of slow rolls of his hips, allowing you to properly feel his full length dragging through you. Low, deep moans left your throat, the slow pace making you want more. Soon though, he began to pick up the pace until he was finally slamming himself into you fast and hard.

“Fuck, Eddie!” you screamed, squeezing your eyes closed.

All you could do was hold onto the edge of the hot tub for dear life as he pounded into you from behind. He slid his hands up from your ass to take hold of your waist. He started pulling you backwards into each thrust, the force making you both gasp and moan together. The head of his cock pushed even deep inside you, hitting all your most sensitive inner areas. It wasn’t long before you could feel the coil inside you close to snapping.

“G-gonna cum,” you managed to gasp out.

Your words made Eddie’s thrusting slightly stutter, but not for long. He slid one hand down from your waist back between your legs, his fingers seeking out your clit to circle around it.

“M’close too,” he groaned out as your inner walls twitched around him when he swept the pad of his finger directly over your clit. “Want you to cum around me.”

With three more thrusts, Eddie’s wish came true, and your cunt clamped down around him as you came. The orgasm washed over your body hard, making your legs shake and your knees start to buckle. You screamed, crying out curses and his name in an incoherent mess of words.

The hand on your shoulder left it to grab a handful of your hair, pulling your head back and causing your chest to arch outwards. This also caused your hips to lift, giving Eddie a better angle to fuck straight into you.

He fucked you through your orgasm and wasn’t too far behind you. His thrusting was already growing harder and erratic as you were coming down from your high. The steady grip of your inner walls coaxed him along, and after a few more of those hard, deep thrusts, Eddie began to shoot his cum deep inside you.

“F-fuck!” he cried as his lower body slightly spasmed, the hand on your waist gripping you hard. “That’s it, fuck! Such a good girl for me, Y/N, fuck!”

The stream of cursing and praise that left Eddie’s mouth next was almost unintelligible as yours as he kept fucking you through his orgasm. His hips gradually slowed until he finally came to a stop, leaving his cock still buried in you.

You both were panting, exhausted messes. It took several moments before Eddie could even move in order to pull out of you. You whimpered at the loss of contact when he finally did, the motion making your legs tremble again. After tucking himself into his trunks, he helped you stand up and fix your bottoms, before dropping into seat you just fucked on. He pulled you down into his lap across his thighs, sitting there contently with your arms wrapped around each other.

It took a while before either of you felt like moving, supremely happy to just sit there together. You spoke softly about trivial things, exchanging soft kisses and caresses until the timer on the hot tub went down to zero and it shut itself off. That was your cue to finally go inside. After drying yourselves, the two of you went inside to shower then get ready for bed, both exhausted. Just before you went to sleep, Eddie wondered aloud to you about how long it would take for the photos to get out.

That question was answered barely two days later. Shortly after the nationally aired morning shows began for the day, you and Eddie were woken up by a phone call from Joe, telling you both to get down to his office as soon as possible. The label wanted the band and you assembled for a conference call with the executives.

About an hour later, once you all were assembled around Joe’s desk, he dialed into the labels conference room as he was instructed.

The phone call as brief as possible.

It hadn’t taken long for the photos to be picked up by a major tabloid. While the story hadn’t hit the printers yet, legitimate news outlets caught wind of the story and had already validated its legitimacy. There had only been short blurbs about it so far during the entertainment news, but everyone knew it wasn’t going to take long for the photos to be everywhere.

They were informed that Corroded Coffin’s contract with the label was terminated effective immediately with the upcoming tour cancelled.

They cited a morality clause in one of the subsections of their contract stating any behavior considered immoral or reprehensible by the label from any member of the band would be grounds for label to terminate their agreement with the band as a whole. Since the statement announcing Eddie and Deandra’s pending divorce hadn’t gone public yet, it was a clear-cut case of adultery. There was absolutely no way for the label to spin it into anything else and that created a big problem for the executives.

While they had no interest in continuing their relationship with Corroded Coffin, they assured the band they would not be put their names on any blacklists so that they may find another label to take them on during this next phase of their careers. They predicted that Corroded Coffin would have no trouble finding someone to quickly sign them on.

After wishing everyone well, and reminding you all that your NDAs still wouldn’t expire for years to come, the executives ended the call.

You all listened to the dial tone coming through the speaker phone for a few seconds before Joe finally hit the button to hang up.

Then the guys cheered with joy.

A tremendous feeling of relief washed over everyone in that office. Even Joe, while he didn’t fully approve of you and Eddie’s methods, definitely appreciated the outcome . He was happy to finally have the label out of his hair, too.

While none of you knew whether or not to believe the label executives at first, they held true to their word and did not blacklist the band in the industry. It didn’t take long before other labels started reaching out to Joe, interested in signing them. However, most of the labels he met with were offering deals way too similar to the one the guys just got out of. This time, they wanted to be much more careful. Since they actually had the clout now to be choosier, Joe put potential labels through far more scrutiny on their behalf.

In the meantime, Joe made sure they continued to work and perform, but things were much different now than before. The bigger venues were hard to book without the backing of a label, and the dive bars they started out in were too big of a security risk thanks to their fame. All that really left was the festival circuit and special appearances. But none of you minded though. Every show was much more relaxed than their previous concerts with the label had been, and definitely not as frantic and stressful as touring. The slower pace allowed them to begin recovering from the burnout their old label had pushed them into. Soon they were enjoying performing again. Even the writer’s block Eddie and Gareth had been experiencing started to lift, allowing them to write music again.

It really didn’t take that long to get a new record deal. Not in comparison to how long it took them to get their first deal, at any rate. The wait was worth it though.

A smaller label eventually contacted Joe, interested in signing Corroded Coffin. At first, he was leery of their interest. The label was relatively new, having only been founded within the last five years. They had a handful of artists signed, but none of them particularly famous outside of niche audiences. However, the label desperately wanted to sign them. Corroded Coffin would be their biggest act signed to date and would certainly start to make a name for the label. The label then extended the most generous offer the guys had received so far, allowing them total control over their careers and lives. It was an offer they couldn’t refuse.

Once they were signed, they immediately went into the studio to start recording the new material they all had been working on. Since they had gotten inspired in recent months, there ended up being way more music than they needed for an album. Rather than forcing them to pair it down, the label encouraged them to spread their creative wings and try something new.

This led to the release of a double disc album, “Destruction & Resurrection.” Most of the songs were veiled references to the hell their previous label put them through (Destruction) and taking back control of their lives and careers in the aftermath (Resurrection). It did very well among old fans and new. It rose through the charts quickly after release and soon they went on a very successful tour to promote it.

The difference between the old tours and this new one was obvious from the start. It was much more laid back, and not as hectic with so many guidelines the old label had them follow. They were finally able to enjoy the spotlight, enjoy being on stage together and enjoy all the benefits years of demanding work had yielded without someone else pulling the strings.

Not only that, you and Eddie weren’t having to sneak around in the shadows anymore. Since your relationship had remained public ever since the photos of you two in the hot tub made the news, you never left his side now except for when he was on stage.

But living life in the public eye wasn’t without its drawbacks, especially after a scandal of that magnitude.

The photos of you and Eddie had broken during the fast rise in popularity of internet being used as a way to connect with other people sharing similar interests. Among the discussions you saw about the band, the scandal was wildly talked about. Eddie’s name was once again tarnished for something he didn’t do, but this time you were taking the brunt of the blame. Most people had less than favorable opinions about you. People called you a home wrecker at best and a trailer trash slut at worse. You tried to not let it bother you, tried to not let it get under your skin, but it did at times. With the NDAs still in effect, you were forced to grin and bear it.

Once the latest tour wrapped up, with the labels blessing, Corroded Coffin took an extended break. They weren’t broken up by any means, but like all bands that stay together long term, they had all reached the point where they wanted to live their own separate lives. They wanted to stretch their wings out, rediscover themselves and learn what makes them tick. After so many years of working and traveling together, it was time.

Nick more or less retired from the public eye during this time. He and his wife had their first of four children together shortly after the tour concluded, and he wanted to spend as much time with them as he could.

Outside of having families themselves, Gareth and Jeff started a new project in order to experiment with the nu metal sound that had really become popular. It was fairly successful, featuring both Eddie and Nick on several of the songs.

Eddie and you led a pretty quiet life. Now that you weren’t forced to be shut ins in order to be together, you discovered now you preferred being at home together rather than going out. Outside of the occasional vacation with friends and family, you two spent most of your time at home. Though, one of those vacations did land you two on the front page of the tabloids again when you two were spotted vacationing in the Maldives with Deandra and her fiancée.

When the early 2000’s rolled around, the guys of Corroded Coffin were starting to feel a bit restless. The itch to write and perform together again was creeping in, and they started to talk about if it was time to start working a new album.

Fate decided to step in and give them the nudge they needed.

The producers of a popular horror movie series wanted to use a couple of Corroded Coffin’s songs in the latest movie. They were also asked if they would also write and record a brand-new song for the soundtrack. Since Eddie, you and Jeff were fans of the series, the band happily agreed.

While the movie itself ended up being one of the weaker installments of the series, it still did well enough at the box office to assure another installment. The soundtrack was highly praised and relaunched the name Corroded Coffin to a whole new generation of fans. They went back into the studio to record again.

The success of their following album led to them being approached by VH1 executives with an offer. They wanted to do an episode of Behind the Music on Corroded Coffin detailing their rise to fame, the scandal that resulted in their expulsion from their first label, their reinvention under the new label and the lives they lead now. The offer was thrilling, and everyone readily agreed. There was very little haggling over the script and the questions, which seemed a little odd at first to the producers. Usually there is always something the guests didn’t want to talk about, but everyone seemed perfectly willing to bare it all.

What the producers of VH1 didn’t realize was, all of the NDAs the group signed with the first label had expired the prior year. You and Eddie were done lying and gave everyone your blessing to tell the real story.

It didn’t take long for before VH1 realized what a goldmine they had. As the story unfolded, the entire structure of the episode changed. Instead of presenting them as former hard partying rockers that got knocked down several pegs by the front man’s scandalous love affair, they were presented as a band held prisoner by a former label that controlled everything from to who they dated and what they wore. Everyone interviewed for the episode confirmed every bit of the story, from Joe’s widow Valerie and Diandra herself, to Eddie’s longtime friends Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson.

Corroded Coffin’s episode of Behind the Music shocked the music world. While everyone was moved by what all the guys went through, hearing about what happened to you and Eddie broke hearts.

As it turns out, the men in suits at that first label had been wrong.

Everyone on the internet agreed. Eddie Munson being with his high school sweetheart for over twenty years, not to mention the lengths that you two went to finally be together, was very fucking metal.

[aphrogeneias]

kickstart my heart — one-shot

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the first time eddie sees your bare chest isn't the way he imagined it would be, and he'd imagined plenty of times.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: smut (+18), dirty thoughts, suggestive dialogue, for the purpose of this story, eddie is a boobs man (but we all know he enjoys the whole package), allusions to sex but no graphic descriptions. jeff is implied to be gay because in my heart all of cc are somewhere in the alphabet mafia.

author's note: elaborating on this. i want to remind you that this is a silly piece and i hope you take It as such <3 also i am incredibly rusty when it comes to writing, i'm sorry if this isn't great.

There were thousands of people around him, including the band on the stage in front of them, but Eddie couldn't look anywhere else but at you, eyes wide with a weird mix of emotions.

As cold sweat made his previously hot skin shiver, all he could think was "this wasn't how I thought it would go". Believe him, he'd thought about it a million times. When he needed to stay awake in class, when you wore low cut tops and tight shirts, in the blessed days you decided to opt out of a bra, late at night with his hand gripping his hard length, leaking all over his mattress. He thought about it an embarrassing amount.

In his daydreams, though, the first time he saw them was very much different. He had visions of you sprawled out on his bed, him undressing you slowing, showing your bare chest little by little until it was revealed in the low light of his bedroom, or dragging you to the ever dirty man's bathroom at The Hideout and ripping your clothes off your body in a rush to worship it.

No matter how much he thought about it, nothing prepared him for the fact that the first time he saw your tits was at a Mötley Crüe concert, in the middle of a crowd of thousands of other people.

Eddie hadn't even wanted to go in the first place — he's not very fond of metal of the glam persuasion, but you and Gareth had convinced him and the other boys to go. Jeff and Grant never passed on an opportunity to watch a good concert, and Eddie just wanted to be near you, any excuse was good enough.

He had spent the night happy, hands tucked in the pockets of his leather jacket, enjoying the feeling of the music coursing through his body, running through his veins like an adrenaline high. The bass and drums beating in sync with his heartbeat, feeling it deep within his ribcage. It felt good, like it always had. It also felt good watching you in your element, hair a mess after headbanging all night, skin glowing from sweat and the glitter in your makeup, dancing without a care in the world. The way he thinks you always should be.

It was funny at first. When the band made a pause and the members started addressing the audience, he was about to turn to you when the drummer made some particular lewd comments about the "beautiful ladies" in the crowd, expecting you to laugh with him. The whole rockstar shtick doesn't work on you, he knew that much — whenever he tried pulling something like that you'd just roll your eyes, which only spurred him on because he loved watching your beautiful eyes roll up, though he'd like to do that in other ways. What he saw instead was you whispering in Jeff's ear, the pair of you cackling at each other, too conspiratorially for Eddie's taste. 

With his brows joined together in confusion, he watched you lift yourself on Jeff's shoulders, and after that everything happened in slow motion. The drummer had gone and asked to see some tits from the girls in the crowd, and as ridiculous as that sounded, a lot of girls obliged. You included, for his shock.

Gareth blushed and looked down, Grant closed his hands over his eyes, Jeff was laughing — the bastard was the only one unaffected when you lifted your top up to your head for no more than a second, but it was enough to torture him for the rest of the night. He watches you get down to stand on the ground once again, still laughing, and Eddie could tell you were a little flustered, but mostly you looked like you were having a good time.

He couldn't blame you, wouldn't blame you. He had no right to tell you what to do or not to show your body, you could do whatever you wanted. But, as the band proceeded with their setlist, and your eyes met with his, a playful look and a tentative smile on your face, Eddie couldn't reciprocate. He felt jealous, jealous of everyone who got to see you like that too, and frustrated for being able to look but probably never being able to touch the way he wants to, he felt protective over you, afraid that some other guy would feel entitled to look at you or touch you disrespectfully after that. His mind started reeling, and he could barely distinguish the music anymore.

In his brooding, his fists clenching where they still rested in his pockets, he missed the way you looked down, eyes turning sad, unsure about what your best friend's strange expression meant.

"Are you mad at me?"

Your question caught him by surprise, because you'd barely talked during the whole trip back home. The guys were rowdy as usual, sitting in the backseat of his van, talking about the highlights of their night, making fun of you for your little groupie moment, which had you brushing them off with a laugh and smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Eddie felt guilty. He didn't mean to make you feel like that, but he couldn't stop his mind from wandering back to that moment, and he couldn't stop the blood from flowing downwards, his pants uncomfortably tight at that point. If you noticed his erection, he was ready to throw himself out of the car in shame.

It didn't help that you were right there beside him, thighs looking delectable sitting in his passenger seat, his hand itching to take place on your knee like it always did whenever he drove you places. He could feel the faint smell of your perfume, and see the way you crossed your arms in front of your chest, not helping with his problem at all.

You had only approached him when he'd stopped the van in front of your house, after he had dropped all the others at theirs. 

"What? No, I'm not…"

You interrupted when he was about to start stammering. "Because if you are, I really don't understand why, and if it's about what I did earlier, you have no right to. You're not my dad, you're not my boyfriend…"

A bitter laugh escaped him before he could help it. "I'm well aware, sweetheart."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Still frustrated, he pinches his nose between his fingers. "I'm not mad at you, I'm not judging you", he looks at you then, pointing a ringed finger in your general direction, "I'll have you know I'm a feminist, 'kay?"

You snort. "Okay, Mr. Feminist. What is it, then?"

"I just…", he sighs, "It wasn't supposed to be like that."

Maybe it was the couple of joints you all shared on the way home that had his lips loose like that. Maybe he was tired of holding it all in, his feelings spilling out of him like a dam breaking. Either way, it was out there.

"What wasn't supposed to be like that?" You asked slowly, testing the waters after feeling a shift in the conversation.

"I wasn't supposed to see you like that, I thought the first time I'd see you naked would be different."

Eddie couldn't meet your eyes. He could tell you thought it was funny, with the way you looked like you were holding back a smile. He was never bashful around you, that was the first time you saw him like that.

A lot of firsts for one night, it seemed.

"You think about seeing me naked?" You raised your brow, spurring him on. 

"Yes." He says, simply. Swallowing loudly, the tension grows inside the van. "And I never planned to tell you that, but now is as good a time as ever, I guess."

You scoot a little closer, putting an arm on the back of his seat. "Can I tell you a secret too, just to make us even?"

Eddie just nods, unconsciously getting closer to you as well. You can feel the heat of each other's bodies, an electric current running between you. You draw your mouth near his ear, and whisper "I think about you too."

"Yeah?" Eddie feels his confidence slowly return, his dream coming true right before his eyes. His pretty best friend reciprocating what he thought was his most perverted secret? Couldn't be real — but it was. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we? Gotta give you something other than your imagination to work with."

He wasn't able to resist tucking a fallen piece of your hair back behind your ear. You shifted on your seat, rubbing your thighs together. Eddie took that as encouragement, drawing even closer, hand finally moving to touch the soft skin of your thigh.

"Gonna do you one better, Ed." Your voice lowered, filled with promise. "You can look, and you can touch. How does that sound?"

"Sounds like we've waited long enough."

Later that night, after you were done riding him in the backseat of his van and he'd fucked you on the floor of your bedroom as you desperately tried not to wake the other people in your house, after his hands and mouth explored your body and mapped every inch of your chest, leaving his mark all over it, you'd joked, with a soft giggle at the memory, that you would do the same thing you did that night at the next gig he'd have at local bar.

The only answer you had was an unnecessarily long drag of his cigarette as he laid beside you on the purple comforter of your bed. "If you want me to not last through the set without dragging you out of there early, go ahead."

You'd just kept laughing.

[strangemagicc]

Lucky You

pairings: vampire!rockstar!Eddie x fem!Reader, sort of set in the world of True Blood (but not really)

warnings: smut, smut, smut (again I say 18+ ONLY!), p in v, oral (reader receiving), slight dom!Eddie, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of blood/blood drinking, biting(???), cursing, alcohol

w/c: 4.5k

author’s note: I had a very vivid dream of Eddie as Lestat from Queen of the Damned…it just needed to happen.

The October air blew cold against your bare legs sending a chill down your spine. The streets of Chicago were full, the sounds of the city and the muffled music from inside the club filling the air around you. You and your friend Toby had been standing in line for nearly an hour trying to get into Fangtasia.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” He leaned in and whispered to you. You looked to him with a purse of your lips, eyes narrowed as you watched him scan the crowd that stood behind you. Toby wasn’t exactly keen on being in a room full of vampires.

“Will you relax? I’ve been here a million times. They’re just like you and I. Harmless.” He rolled his eyes and looked at you incredulously.

“You mean to tell me that these walking corpses are harmless?”

“They’re not corpses,” you rolled your eyes and stepped forward as the line continued to move.

“Are they dead?” He asked, folding his arms as he waited for your response.

“Technically speaking,” you smirked knowing exactly where he was going with this.

“Walking corpses, there is no argument,” he waved his hands as though his point was proven.

“Toby, it’s going to be fine. It’s all about consensual fun, they don’t bite unless you want them to,” you grabbed his hands and gave them a squeeze.

“Why would anyone want that?” He asked as you dropped his hands and reached for your ID. You smiled as you approached your favorite bouncer, Frank. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and biceps bigger than your head.

“Hi, Frankie,” you winked and handed him your ID.

“You know I don’t need to see that,” he scoffed playfully and pushed your license away. You had been a frequent flyer as of late.

“How did I know I was going to see you tonight?” He teased as Toby handed the bouncer his ID.

“Must have magical foresight,” you played along and the man handed Toby back his card.

“Nothing to do with Corroded Coffin playing a not so secret show?” He removed the velvet rope to let the two of you through.

“They are?” You stated with faux surprise.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought,” Frank laughed, “Enjoy the show, Hubble.”

You walked through the double doors of the club, the muffled music becoming louder as the two of you walked down the hall leading to the dance floor.

“Why does he call you Hubble?” Toby asked as he walked in step with you.

“I don’t know, something about how I always look like I’m lost in space or whatever,” you waved it off, adjusting the hem of your skirt before pushing at your cleavage.

“How do I look?” Toby looked you up and down, mouth dropping as he noticed the length of your skirt…or lack thereof.

“Like vamp bait.”

“Great.” You continued down the hall and Toby followed a step behind you.

“What do you mean ‘great’? Are you nuts?”

“Tobs, I love you, but you need to chill. I just want to have a little fun.” You wanted to fuck the lead singer of your favorite band but he didn’t need to know your every thought.

“Let’s go dance,” he stared at you with his jaw agape as you grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor.

Fangtasia was packed, a mass of people crowding in front of the stage as the opening act played their set. The sound of the instruments and the singer’s voice reverberated off the walls. The room was cast in shades of blue, glimmers of candlelight came from various spots throughout. Couples were in different stages of embrace, canoodling and groping each other on the leather sofas that were scattered throughout. Bodies swayed to the music, sweat glistening under the colorful lights. You took it in, basking in the ambiance as Toby stood next to you unsure.

“What the,” he started.

“Isn’t it great?” You mused before pulling him towards the edge of the stage.

“Do we have to be this close?” He leaned into you and you turned toward him, eyebrow raised in a question that you didn’t need to voice out loud. If you were going to a Corroded Coffin show you were going to be at the front of the pit, practically sitting in Eddie’s lap.

The crowd erupted in scattered cheers as the opening act finished their set.

“Thank you, Fangtasia! You’re always a great crowd. Who’s excited to see Corroded Coffin tonight?” The audience grew louder.

“Yeah, we’re pretty excited too,” the lead singer laughed.

“Thanks again! We’re Hell Hath No Fury and we hope to see you next time we blow through Chicago. Give it up for Corroded Coffin.” The crowd cheered as the lights faded to black, you watched as the opening band exited the stage and the stage hands set up for the main show. Excitement coursed through you like a live wire as you waited for them to start. Toby continued to stand stoic and unimpressed by his surroundings. When Eddie took the stage you could almost feel it, an electricity buzzing in the air. You grabbed onto Toby as you jumped in elation.

The strum of the guitar introduced them, mellow and intoxicating. The room was illuminated in red as Eddie began to sing and it was as if the rest of the room faded away. Your focus was on him, body swaying to the instrumentals as you got lost in the sound. From the corner of your eye you could see Toby bobbing his head, enjoying the music whether he wanted to admit it or not.

The sound of the waves collide

It was as though his vocals were vibrating through you and straight to your sensitive core. You clenched your thighs together as the song continued, head lost in a trance. Eddie’s eyes scanned the crowd, engaging and then they landed on you. It was almost hypnotic the way they pulled you in, piercing brown boring into your gaze. He didn’t pull away and your heart began beating loudly as heat rushed to your cheeks.

Take me one more wave

Take me for one last ride

You swallowed hard and averted your gaze, unable to handle the intensity. It felt like your veins were on fire and sweat beaded at your temples. When you looked back Eddie was smirking, dimples appearing as he continued his set.

“I need water,” you pulled Toby with you to the bar, sweaty palms clasped together. You waved over the bartender when you reached the wooden bar. The brunette nodded an acknowledgment and you reached for your purse.

“That was actually pretty good,” Toby admitted as you dug for your wallet.

“I’ve been telling you that the shows are pretty killer.”

“Yeah but you also like Dido so forgive me for being apprehensive.”

“You just don’t appreciate good music, Tobs.” You poked his side and he winced at the contact. He did not like to be tickled.

“What can I get the two of you?” The bartender asked as she placed napkins in front of you.

“I’ll just take a water and he’ll have,” you turned to Toby.

“I’ll take a rum and coke,” he nodded.

“Got a preference on the rum?” She asked him as she filled a glass with ice water for you.

“Whatever you have that isn’t expensive,” he laughed and she smiled at him.

“Coming right up,” she slid the glass of water towards you and you gulped it down in relief.

“Think she was checking you out, Tobs,” you giggled as you continued to sip.

“Shut up,” he nudged you with his shoulder but looked back in her direction.

“She is pretty cute, huh?”

“A smoke show,” you agreed, “you should get her number.”

“Oh that’s exactly what she wants, another random guy hitting on her while she tries to work,” he rested his hands on the bar and you shrugged.

“Just don’t be a creep about it,” you placed your empty glass down along with a twenty.

“I’m going to the restroom, can you order me the same as you?”

“Sure thing,” he nodded and slid onto one of the barstools.

You navigated through the crowd that remained, the bass of the music slightly lower than it was earlier. The hallway leading to the bathroom was dimly lit by intricate candelabras and the walls were lined with black curtains. The music disappeared into the distance as you continued down the hall passing closed doors for feedings or more private sessions. You could hear faint moans as you leaned closer to the door before you continued on.

“Do you always eavesdrop?” The voice startled you and you looked around unable to place where it came from. Eddie moved from the shadows, eyes glimmering in the light as he did. He was still wearing the outfit he’d worn during his set. The mesh shirt revealed a strong chest and pierced nipples. You could scarcely see the black ink that lined his alabaster skin, tattoos that led to the top of his leather jeans that hugged him snuggly. He moved toward you, gaze taking in your curves. His scent filled the space as he approached, amber and citrus. It was almost intoxicating, making your mouth water the closer he stood.

“Well?” He was waiting for your response.

“Not typically,” you breathed and suddenly he was behind you, nose hovering close as he inhaled your scent.

“Do you know what happens behind those doors?” You’d heard the noises, imagined what caused the sounds but had never stepped foot into one of the private rooms.

“I can imagine,” his hands inched up the bare skin of your arms leaving a trail of goose flesh in its path. His palms were like ice against you and you tried to hide the shiver he elicited.

“Do you want to see?” His mouth was hovering over your ear and you could feel the warmth of his breath as you nodded. He grabbed your hand and you followed him in a daze, feeling as if you were in a dream as he walked you through the door furthest down the hall. He closed and locked it behind him as you turned to take in your surroundings. It must’ve been his dressing room, clothes were scattered across one loveseat and throw pillows decorated the other. It was only illuminated by candlelight, embers flickered as you stepped further into the space. The room smelled like him with a hint of copper. Blood. You turned as he approached, his eyes on your lips. He was even prettier up close.

“I’ve seen you here before,” it wasn’t a question and you nodded.

“What’s your name?” You whispered an introduction and he repeated it back, your name sounding sweeter on his lips.

“Are you one of those fang bangers?” A derogatory term for those who sought out vampires just to sleep with them to say they had. You shook your head but couldn’t find your words.

“That’s too bad,” he chuckled and ran his thumb against your jaw, “I’ve had my eye on you.” His thumb ran across your lip, pulling it down before he lifted his eyebrows in a silent command. You opened your mouth slightly making room for his thumb, lips wrapping around it as it pressed into your tongue. You flicked your tongue slightly eliciting a small groan from him as he watched you. He removed his finger with a loud pop from your lips and he rubbed his thumb along your cheek, watching your eyes flutter close as his face inched closer. His tongue swiped lightly at your bottom lip before he pressed the soft flesh of his to yours. The kiss was surprisingly soft and he took his time as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your hands tangled in his curls as you pulled him to you. The moments passed, the kiss growing hungrier and you nipped at his bottom lip, sucking the flesh as he kneaded the dough of your ass through your leather skirt. The hem of it continued to rise until you felt the chill of the room, only the sliver of your thong kept you decent. Eddie pulled your ass cheeks apart, and the air met the warmth of your arousal between your thighs. He inhaled deeply, a groan coming from deep within him and he pulled you up, wrapping your legs around his waist carrying you to the sofa. He laid you down gently, lips only pulling away from you momentarily as he took his shirt off. You marveled at him, hands reaching out to trace his tattoos and rub against the exposed flesh. Eddie bent back down, eager lips meeting yours before he trailed kisses down your neck and to your cleavage.

“Is this okay?” He asked and you nodded as he pulled the straps of your lace camisole down to expose your naked breasts. Your nipples pebbled as they met the cold hair and he hummed, tongue swiping against one as his hand pinched the other. You moaned and began grinding against his growing arousal as you caged him between your legs. Eddie continued to work your nipple, sucking and biting the flesh as his hand wandered down to your center. You whined in anticipation, wanting his fingers on your sensitive bud. He inhaled deeply as his fingers traced over your wet flesh, teasing your clit before he removed his hand entirely and broke apart from the kiss. You watched as he brought his fingers to his lips, they glistened with your arousal and he flicked his tongue across one letting out a low groan.

“You taste as sweet as you smell,” he brought his fingers to your mouth inserting them gently to give you a taste and you began grinding your hips against him as you sucked them dry.

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered watching as your eyes rolled back and you played with your nipples. He began kissing down your chest, across the flesh of your stomach and past your hips. You were spread before him and he took his time with your thighs, leaving hickeys as he inched closer to where you needed him most. You arched your back in anticipation watching as he moved to the other thigh and sucked a bruise into your flesh. The tip of his canine grazed against your skin and you inhaled sharply.

“Can I?” He asked and you nodded, front teeth digging into your lower lip as you chewed on it anticipating the sting of the puncture. Your hand trailed down your stomach and under your panties rubbing your bud in soft circles as his fangs dug into your thigh. You whimpered in pleasure watching as he fed. Blood trickled from your femoral artery and he lapped it up. His eyes were dark and trained on you as you curled your other fingers into his hair. He used the sharp edge of his canine to prick his finger and used his blood to heal your wound. He licked the rest of your blood away from his lips before pulling your panties down. You continued to rub circles into your clit, your arousal pooling beneath you as you edged closer to climax. He removed your hand licking your fingers clean before raking his tongue across your sensitive flesh. It was soft and flat as he dragged it through your folds. You bucked underneath his touch and his nose nudged your bundle of nerves causing you to moan. He prodded your seeping entrance with his finger and you clenched as you thought of how you’d feel if he stretched you open. He continued to work your clit with his tongue as he teased your cunt.

“Please!” You begged, voice going up an octave before he obliged and worked his finger into you. Your hips bucked underneath him, moving with the motion of his finger as he moved it in a come hither motion. You needed more and you keened, voicelessly begging to be stretched more. Eddie began rutting his hips into the couch as you continued to ride his fingers, sucking and flicking his tongue against your clit. You were going to come undone, the rubber band at your center about to snap when he removed his fingers from your cunt and you whined.

“You don’t come until I say, sweetheart,” he commanded and you nodded, watching as he removed his leather pants. His length sprang forward and he gripped the hard flesh, stroking as he took in the sight of you.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he continued to pump his cock and watched as you removed your skirt before taking off your blouse. He laid you on the couch and pulled you to the edge, eyeing your tits as they jiggled with the movement. He slapped them, gripped them roughly before squeezing at your pebbled nipple. You moaned, pussy gripping around nothing as you waited for him to stop teasing you. Eddie rubbed the tip of his dick along your folds, continuing to tease you as the sound of your wet slick filled the room. You needed a release and reached your hand down to rub your clit.

“Stop that,” he demanded and you did as you were told but continued to whimper as he continued to tease. Finally, his tip poked your entrance and he inched into you. He held his breath as your sticky flesh wrapped around his length. You gripped his arms, nails digging into his pale skin as you took him in. He was big, the girth of his cock stretching you until he bottomed out. His breath was heavy against your lips as his nose nudged yours. Your hands grazed over his pale flesh and he flexed under your touch. There was electricity in the air again, the kind that was only present when he was and you were buzzing with the thrill of it as he began to thrust his hips lazily, enjoying the way you felt as he pulled and pushed back into you. Your head rutted against the pillows with each movement, boobs jiggling as he picked up the pace and gripped your hips. You knew you’d have bruises from where they dug. A strangled sound came from his lips as he rutted into you, your pussy making filthy, pretty noises as his hips met yours. Your cunt fluttered around his length and he groaned obscenities at the way you felt.

“Fucking Christ,” he pulled back from you, watching as your pussy swallowed every inch of him. He placed a soft peck to your temple before pulling your wrists above your head holding them there as he continued to slam his cock into you. The room was filled with the lewd noises the two of you created and the moans that couldn’t be choked back. White hot pleasure coursed through you as you tightened around him. You snagged your hips up, rubber band winding back as you arched off the couch. Eddie’s eyes drooped with pleasure as he neared his climax and gripped you tightly, hastily unwrapping your cunt from around him. He wasn’t going to let you come, not yet. He flipped you onto your stomach and you arched your back, wiggling your hips at him. Eddie took his time, trailing kisses up your spine and up to your jaw. He bit at your bottom lip and you tasted copper as you bled into his mouth. He kissed you deep as he rubbed his length between your folds.

“You can’t wait for me to stretch you out again, can you?” He pulled away and watched as your eyebrows met as he continued to tease you. You shook your head, eyelashes fluttering shut as you pushed your hips against him and tried to inch him into you. He slapped your ass and you yelped at the sensation.

“I need to hear your answer,” he spread you apart and you keened, nodding at him. He swatted at your ass cheek again, the contact stinging with pleasure and you moaned.

“N-no, I can’t wait,” you stammered and he smirked, already knowing. He knelt down behind you and lapped at your glistening flesh, moaning as his mouth became covered in your arousal. You bucked frantically against him as he teased your cunt with his index finger, moaning as you sucked him in. Your head was in the clouds, fucked out and ready to come if only he’d let you.

Eddie lined his cock at your entrance inching into you slowly stopping to squeeze your hips as you took every inch of him.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he panted and began jerking his hips forward. Your eyes were glassy, a high keen escaping your lips as he quickened his pace. He spread your cheeks more and tested the tightness of your other hole with his thumb, massaging the tight entrance as he continued slamming his hips into yours. The new sensation had you squeezing around him, the tightness making him groan at the feeling. Your legs began to shake, pleasure taking over you and your moans turned to loud whines as the rubber band at your center threatened to snap.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good,” he stated between thrusts and you pushed back to take him deeper. He slapped your ass once more, gripping at the dough of it.

“Do you want to come, baby?” You nodded, his name on your tongue as you get closer to coming undone.

“Please, please, please, let me come Eddie,” he grabbed your wrists and pulled them behind you. His thrusts becoming more aggressive as he edged closer to his own release.

“Shit, right there Eddie oh please right there.” You keened, cries coming from you in wet sobs as you closed your eyes tight and let the pleasure take over. Your jaw went slack, goosebumps spread across your supple skin when as you came. It was ecstasy, a new kind of orgasm that you hadn’t felt before. Eddie tilted his head to the side and he watched you come undone, his nails digging crescent moons into your skin. His moan echoed through the room as he painted your walls with his come. You felt his warmth flood you and he collapsed against your back in a huff.

“Holy fucking shit,” he breathed. Both of you were spent, breaths coming in quick succession as you came back down to earth, hearing the sounds of the club just outside the door for the first time since you entered. Eddie laid ginger kisses up your spine, his touch softer than just a moment ago. He pulled himself out of you and you winced at the loss.

“Afraid I made a mess out of you baby,” he stated and slapped your ass more playfully.

“Stay there, I’ll get a rag to clean you up,” he went over to the adjoining restroom and you listened as he turned on the faucet before quickly returning with a washcloth. He wiped the warmth over your sensitive skin and kissed your shoulder as he finished. You turn onto your side, watching as he tossed the cloth to the side and pulled on his boxers before handing you your clothes. You suddenly felt awkward, like you should’ve left right after he finished and you began to hastily pull your clothes on.

“Having second thoughts?” He asked as he watched you.

“No, no,” you shook your head, “just don’t want to overstay my welcome.” You gave a small smile, buttoning your skirt as you did. His hand stopped yours and he pulled you up from your place on the couch. He kissed you softer than before, his lips lingering on your bottom one.

“Don’t feel like that, sweetheart,” he whispered and nudged his nose against yours.

“I had fun,” he mused and you nodded in agreement.

“We should do it again,” he stated, looking at you to measure your response.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he pulled away and went to grab a pen before scribbling his number onto your arm.

“Call me, we can have more fun or I can take you on an actual date,” he shrugged his shoulder as if it were nothing but you beamed at him.

“I’ll do that,” he kissed you sweetly, and placed another on your forehead. A bang at the door startled you and Eddie shot a glare to whoever is on the other side.

“One second,” he shouted before giving you a quick peck on the cheek and answering.

“What is it?” He blocked whoever was there from your view and you stood there staring at his back curiously.

“I’ll be out in a second, go ahead and start the bus.” He closed the door and turned back to you, wringing his neck uncomfortably before pointing his thumb to the door.

“That was my band manager, we’ve got to head out. We have an early show in Milwaukee tomorrow and we’ve got to hit the road.” You nodded and gathered the rest of your things, heading towards the door. You knew what this was, knew that even if you called that your fling wouldn’t go past that conversation or past this room but you weren’t hurt by his abrupt departure.

“Maybe I’ll see you again,” you shrugged as you left the room not waiting for his response. As you walked back down the dark hallway you remembered. Toby. You quickened your pace, straightening out your appearance and hoped to whatever deity that he hadn’t already reported you a missing person. As you approached the bar you noticed his lips locked with the bartender, her hands curled into the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Go Toby,” you chuckled to yourself and discreetly grabbed your drink from beside him. He felt your presence and broke the kiss, eyeing you sheepishly. You raised your hand in a teasing wave, straw caught between your teeth as you held back a laugh at the state of him. His red hair was in disarray, glasses hanging on his freckled face crookedly and bruised lips.

“Sorry,” he whispered to the girl.

“Uh, you know Jade right?” He asked you, his eyes darting between you and the brunette.

“Not as well as you do,” you laughed and he turned a deep shade of red.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” you shrugged and moved away from the bar into the frigid fall night. Toby joined you shortly after, hands coming up to his mouth and he tried to warm himself.

“Did you get her number?” You asked as the two of you walked in step towards your apartment a few blocks away.

“Of course I did,” he rolled his eyes as if it were obvious.

“By the way where the fuck did you disappear to? I almost called in search and rescue.”

“Just out back fucking the lead singer of corroded coffin,” and he laughed at you disbelieving.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t tell me then.” He nudged you slightly and the two of you continued on into the night.