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𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐰𝐨) - 𝐞.𝐦. (𝟏𝟖+)
part one | part two
older rockstar!eddie x reader
summary eddie munson was an asshole, you knew that now. and the truth was you hated him, so much so that you couldn't stop thinking about him.
eddie munson hated himself, and he couldn't stop thinking about you. (16.3k)
warnings 18+ minors dni, age gap (reader is 22, eddie is 40), angst, asshole eddie, references to abuse, drinking (reader gets drunk), reader hurts herself (not intentionally!), very brief mention of blood, smut, making out, oral sex, penetrative sex, fingering, an overuse of nicknames. if i have missed anything please politely let me know <3
Seven Months Later.
There’s this theory called the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon. It’s the scientific explanation for why you start to notice something, or someone more when your awareness of them increases.
It’s an illusion. Your brain creates a cognitive bias. The truth is that thing was there all along. You just never cared enough to notice it before.
Like Eddie fucking Munson.
.
.
.
The fall air was heavy with a bitter chill as it slinked in through your half-open window. You were barely conscious, your body still heavy with sleep, but you felt the cold wind embrace you in an unwelcome hug and you pulled your thick comforter over your head in a bid to escape it.
You weren’t sure what time it was, your mind hazy as memories of last night came flooding back to you. You attempted to push them to the back of your mind, you didn’t need the self-loathing to begin already, you could get to that after you had managed to at least eat breakfast.
Your arms felt heavy as you lifted them, stretching them above you. Your movements caused your comforter to fall around you, your eyes squinted to adjust to the harsh light that bled through the curtains. They were second-hand and made from really sheer material, they almost made no difference. But you kept them up anyway; you were a young woman living in a city by yourself, so you couldn’t afford to lose the small amount of privacy they granted you.
Dragging your limp body out of bed (fuck you, college) you made your way over to your closet, grabbing the first crumpled-up clothes you saw and throwing them on, not bothering to even look at what you were now wearing.
And no, you didn’t shower, and yes you knew you should have. But quite frankly, you barely had the energy to get out of bed and go to class; asking you to shower and wash your hair was asking far too much from you.
You had two exams today and a shift at the diner afterwards. None of which you were particularly looking forward to, but there wasn’t a lot you could do about that now except grin and bear it.
Which is what you did. It was what you always did.
As you stepped out of your apartment complex you felt the frost-bitten wind caress your face. You swore under your breath, pulling your coat tighter around you in a feeble attempt to warm yourself up.
Looking up your eyes landed on the obnoxiously large billboard that sat opposite your building. And on it, of course, was none other than Corroded Coffin, with Eddie sitting front and centre. Promotion for their upcoming tour.
You stared at it for far too long to be considered a passing glance. And just before you turned on your heel to walk to class you pulled a cold hand out of your pockets and pointedly gave it the middle finger.
Fuck you, universe.
.
.
.
“I’ll tell you what you can do Marianne, you can shove your ideas and fuck-”
“Okay, you’re done” John slammed his hands down on the table in front of him, pushing his chair back as he got up and all but manhandled Eddie, pulling him out before he could add more fuel to the fire, “Get out, come on. Jesus fucking Christ-”
It was early. The sun could have only just risen when he woke up and he could hear the fucking birds chirping kind of early.
It was 9 AM.
He could easily have stopped John from dragging him out of the meeting room like a petulant child, but that would take energy he simply didn’t have. And the energy he did have he was more than happy to use on shouting at people who, in his humble opinion, were being pretty fucking stupid for it being the crack of dawn.
9 AM.
So instead he raised his calloused hands in mock defeat as he let John lead him down the wide corridor, a warning hand on his shoulder, and into another room. The room was identical to the one he had just been in; but there was no one in there, which made it much preferable to him.
The harsh morning light beamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the exterior wall. The wall adjoining the room to the corridor was also made entirely of glass. Eddie leant his body weight against it, running his hands over his face as John shut the door behind them. Eddie’s eyes flicked to him briefly and he saw his body tense. He knew that he’d pissed him off. But he didn’t care, these moments were second nature to the both of them by now.
None of them dared speak first. Both of them quietly assessed the other, figuring out how explosive this was about to get.
Very. If the past was any indication.
Eddie being, well - Eddie, pulled out a cigarette and placed it between his lips, his hands fumbling around his many pockets trying to remember where he had last put his lighter.
“You can’t smoke in here.”
John’s curt voice cut through the thick tension clouding the room. Eddie’s eyes snapped to Johns, fucking insufferable bastard, and his hands halted their searching of his pockets.
“If I don’t smoke I’ll turn into an asshole” Eddie bit out the words, a sarcastic smile painting his face.
“Ah, so no different than usual then? Put the cigarette down and stop being a dick,” John walked over to the meeting table and pulled out a flimsy chair, sitting down with an exaggerated sigh, “I’m tired of playing your fucking father.”
“You’re barely five years older than me.” Eddie’s voice was harsh as he snapped back at John, but his face was heavy with some emotion that even John couldn’t place. He knew bringing up Eddie’s father was a bad idea. He only pulled out that card when he was desperate.
“Exactly. I have two kids at home. You’re old enough to be their father, so don’t make me speak to you the way I speak to them. Shit, they’re better behaved than you are.”
Anyone who knew John knew that he really did care for Eddie. He treated him like a brother, but Eddie didn’t yet return the same sentiment. John figured he probably never would, and he was okay with that.
He knew Eddie’s history. All of it. He understood why Eddie was the way he was. He just wished he could help him. He also knew that if he told Eddie this, he would most likely leave with a black eye if he dared show any ounce of pity for him.
Eddie liked to be treated a certain way. Harsh words shared between people on the most basic level. It made him feel safe. If he never connected with anyone he couldn’t hurt them.
Or be hurt when they left him.
So John never mentioned any of what he knew. But Eddie knew that he was aware of his past, and he hadn’t abandoned him yet, so that was good enough for him.
“You keep pulling shit like this and the label will drop you. It’s as simple as that.”
Eddie scoffed, fiddling with the still unlit cigarette between his fingers. “I’d like to see them try.”
“Okay, listen to me” John leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, feet planted as if he was ready for a fight any minute. “You leave to go on tour in two hours—your first show is tomorrow. Figure your shit out. Drop the asshole facade you’re so desperately trying to hide behind,”
Eddie didn’t say anything, he feared if he did he would only regret it. He simply stayed leaning against the wall, not looking away from John once. His stare was cold, calculated.
“You’re not better than anyone in that room. No matter what the girls you’re fucking every night might be saying to you.”
Eddie held his stare, a smirk pulling at his mouth.
“They don’t usually say a lot actually. It’s hard when they're being fucked dumb, poor things can barely string a sentence together when we’re done”
Eddie was looking for a reaction. He wanted a fight, needed a fight.
John bit his tongue, biting back the words he knew Eddie was waiting to hear. He wanted Eddie to tell him he was an ass. That he was pathetic. That he deserved everything that had happened to him.
He wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.
“What? Do you not get that sort of reaction from your wife after you’ve fucked her? That’s poor show John, I can teach you a few things if you need me to?” Eddie’s venomous tone hit exactly where he intended it to, he could tell by the way John clenched his jaw, “Or I could just fuck her for you.”
“What the fuck’s happened to you, Eddie?” His voice was suddenly soft, concerned. Eddie hated it. “Is this all about that girl, because-”
“Fuck off,” Eddie said with a deafening calm, “I’m going for a smoke.”
And with that Eddie turned and left the room, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the empty corridor.
“You better not miss the flight later! You can’t fuck up everyone else’s life like you’re doing to your own!” John sighed as the words landed on deaf ears, Eddie already too far gone to pay any attention to him.
It was going to be a long long tour.
.
.
.
Carpe Diem. That was a thing people said right? Well, you were here to tell them that was bullshit.
Seize the day. Whatever that meant - it was certainly not meant for broke college students who had recently been fucked over by a world-famous rockstar, had almost certainly just failed their final exams and now had to endure a seven-hour shift at a diner.
No, that saying was intended for people who already had their life together. Middle-aged moms living in the suburbs with their two children and a perfect husband. Who woke up each morning and decided between going to a new yoga class or a coffee morning with their book club girlfriends.
Those were the type of people Carpe Diem was meant for.
Not you.
You had managed to get caught in the rain on your way to your shift. The cold rain soaking through your clothes and onto your skin enhanced every emotion you were already feeling. The cold wind was biting as you swerved through the bustling crowd on the sidewalk. It was nearing 10 PM, and you wouldn’t be home until the early hours of the morning; you rarely picked up night shifts. You had been working there for almost three years and you could count on one hand the number of times you had worked a night shift. But right now you needed the money, so when the shift was offered to you, who were you to turn it down?
Once you had finally arrived you had almost immediately snapped at your manager when you walked through the heavy doors of the diner; she had made some innocent joke about how you would have been drier if you had swum here.
She quickly realised you weren’t in the mood for jokes and told you she had a change of clothes in the back you could borrow. You nodded your head and forced an appreciative smile onto your face. You liked your manager, she was maybe a decade older than you, give or take, and she always made sure the chefs cooked you some food during a long shift.
You ignored everyone else, one chef and two other waitresses who would be leaving soon, as you made your way to the staff room at the back of the diner, heading straight to your manager's locker and grabbing the clothes she had folded and placed on the top shelf.
You threw on the jeans but hesitated as you unfolded the all too familiar shirt. You recognised the design instantly and you felt a lump form in your throat. You had the exact same shirt at home, although yours was lying abandoned in the back of your closet, and you had been content never to see, let alone wear it, again.
The worn-out corroded coffin logo stared back at you.
Well fuck.
It had taken you all of two seconds to decide that you would rather spend your night in a half-soaked t-shirt instead. When your manager had seen you walk back out, apron tied around your waist and a damp t-shirt clinging to you, she hadn’t questioned it. Instead, she pointed to your area for the night and told you it shouldn’t be too busy, she smiled a genuine smile and rubbed your back, like a caring mom, before leaving you to it. You could tell by the look of concern she tried to hide that she knew something was wrong. You seemed tense, which you never were.
You hadn’t told anyone what had happened. You weren’t the first girl to be fucked over by Eddie and you certainly wouldn’t be the last. You felt ridiculous for being so hung up on what had happened.
But there was just something about him. And you hated him for it.
You saw pieces of him everywhere you went. Heard his voice in every store or cafe you went into, and every time it cut into you a little bit deeper than the last. He had left his mark on you and you had no idea how to get rid of it. The truth was you weren’t sure you wanted to. He made you feel safe. Which was insane given his reputation, but every time he looked at you it felt like a summer breeze wrapped itself around you. He smiled at you and it felt like running into the ocean for the first time on holiday. Like nothing could hurt you as long as he was there.
But then he had been the one to hurt you, so fuck him, right?
Yeah. Fuck him. You had tables to serve, people to pretend to like, and a myriad of awful attempts at flirting to politely ignore for the next… seven hours.
It was going to be a long long night.
.
.
.
The truth was Eddie had tried relentlessly to avoid coming back here. To this city.
To you.
But it hadn’t worked. His team had asked him multiple times why exactly he was so adamant about avoiding this place, but hell would have to open up and drag him down there before he would tell anyone it was because of you.
You had fucked him up more than anyone ever had. And he had spent one night with you.
He barely knew anything about you. He knew your name, and he knew how old you were. He also knew what you sounded like when you came.
He hadn’t told anyone about you. John knew, of course. But every time he would try to mention ‘that girl’ to Eddie he would shoot him a look that said “I am not above punching you in the face” and that was that.
So now here he was. In the one city on earth, he would have happily avoided for the rest of his godforsaken life-
“Do you want to go straight to the hotel? I already made sure the security stopped people hanging around outside, so you don’t have to worry about that.” John’s voice sounded from beside Eddie, although he was barely listening.
The moment the plane landed he felt his heart race. Which was stupid, because as far as he knew you didn’t actually live here. You might have been here on holiday or just came for the concert.
Fuck he hopes you didn’t come just for him.
“You know tour used to be fun, we used to do shit. Get fucked up.” Eddie didn’t turn to look at John whilst he spoke, choosing instead to smoke a cigarette out of the barely open window. The torrent of rain outside still managed to slip in through the open space, leaving raindrops to settle on Eddie’s hair that fell around his shoulders.
Eddie had a habit of avoiding other people’s questions, even simple ones. John had picked up on that fact rather fast. It was best to let Eddie lead the conversation, so that’s what he did.
“I remember,” John replied, staring straight ahead from the back seat, watching the traffic they were attempting to drive through, “That was ten years ago, things change, you know that.”
Eddie did know that. It didn’t mean he had to like it.
When Eddie didn’t bother to respond John cautiously said “they all have families now, Eddie. A wife and kids. Can you blame them for not wanting to get high every night and fuck up a hotel room?”
Eddie clenched his jaw, flicking the burnt-out cigarette out of the window and onto the rain-soaked road, “You have a wife and kids, why are you here with me? Not with them, with your perfect little picket-fence family, huh?”
“Because I’m working. I don’t spend time with you out of the goodness of my heart, you know. You pay me to be here, to make sure some insane fan doesn’t stalk you or some shit.” John tried to sound lighthearted, adding some humour to his all-too-true words. But it didn’t help.
Eddie once again went quiet, whispering something under his breath about it all being “fucking bullshit” but that was it. He hadn’t apologised to John about that morning, the comment about his wife. He couldn’t bring himself to admit he was sorry. And he knew that made him the asshole everyone said he was, but he had been wearing that badge of honour for a long time, he’d be damned if he let it bother him now. Maybe he just was an asshole.
“Do I assume you do just want to go straight to the hotel?” John asked again, he knew not to push Eddie but he really needed to let the poor driver know where he was taking them. Although with the traffic at a standstill, they wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
“No” Eddie’s blunt response would have been enough to have most people stop talking to him.
“Well, where do you wanna go then? I’m not driving around with you all fuckin’ night I’ll tell you that for nothing.” Eddie finally turned in his seat to look at John, although his gaze seemed to be focused on the window behind him instead, “It’s gone midnight, you may be a rockstar but I’m old. I need to sleep.”
“Here. I’m hungry.”
John turned, confusion evident as he furrowed his eyebrows and breathed out a barely audible “what?”. The car had stopped outside a diner, open twenty-four hours, based on the worn-out sign hanging in the window. There was no one inside, except a waitress. This was probably the only place in the city Eddie could go to without being spotted and harassed.
“Are you serious? They have room service at the hotel and-”
“I fucking said I wanna eat here, is that so hard to understand?” Eddie snapped, his hands fiddling with the bracelets and pieces of fabric he had tied around his left wrist. “I- can we just get out here, I’m fuckin’ starving”
“Well if you would have eaten on the plane instead of insulting the food-”
“That shit looked like I could have made it. Would you eat my cooking, John?”
“You couldn’t pay me enough.”
“Exactly.” Eddie took off his seatbelt and waved his hands toward the door on John’s side “let’s go.”
John reluctantly moved to open the door, stepping out into the cold rain. Eddie followed suit, taking in his surroundings as he waited for John to tell the driver something, probably asking him to come back in an hour.
The bell hanging over the door rang out into the quietness of the diner as they both walked in, glad to be out of the rain for the brief time they were in it. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of a radio playing behind the counter. A woman stood behind it, her back turned and windswept hair flowing over her shoulders, an apron tied around her waist. Eddie could see that her shirt was damp and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that rang through him as he realised she must have gotten caught in the downpour on her way here. Eddie had never had to work a service job before, but he knew damn well if he did and his clothes were soaked through before he had even started, he would have gone home. No questions asked.
He made a mental note to try and be nice to her. He never did that, but he promised himself he would at least try.
John hesitated a minute before walking over to an empty booth and sitting himself down, his eyes trained on the girl behind the counter.
Eddie sat opposite him, stretching his legs out under the table and picking up the menu that was left on the table. He decided on the first thing he saw and threw the menu back down, sliding it over to John, but he still wasn’t looking anywhere except at the waitress behind the counter.
“What’s the matter with you?” Eddie asked quizzically. John’s whole body language had changed the minute they had walked in. Sure, it wasn’t the most high-end place they had ever eaten, but Eddie had never taken him for a snob.
“Okay, you’ve got about ten seconds to decide if you want to just get up and leave.”
“What-”
“Too late,” John said suddenly, his eyes darting back to Eddie “don’t be an asshole.”
Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, what the fuck was he talking about? He looked around to see that the waitress had turned, now facing both of them.
And she was looking straight at Eddie.
You were looking straight at Eddie.
.
.
.
There are certain feelings that you’ve never been able to explain to people. You’ve never been particularly good at expressing how you feel because you’ve rarely been able to understand or process your own emotions.
But as you stood in the diner, at 12:46 AM, and saw Eddie sitting across from you. You knew exactly how you felt.
You felt angry.
You felt heartbroken.
You felt confused.
You felt the happiest you had felt in seven months.
And then you felt the world fall out from underneath your feet.
You felt like Eddie was about to rip your heart out all over again.
You hadn’t moved. Shit. What the fuck were you meant to do? Eddie hadn’t moved either. But John had, and he was walking right towards you.
“Hey,” he was tense, you could tell. “Listen, I don’t know what thoughts are running through your head right now. But, I can imagine at least one of them is that you’d like to punch him square in his face, right?” John tilted his head to the side, trying to gauge your reaction. You still hadn’t moved. You weren’t totally sure you were breathing.
“I’m gonna trust that you won’t do that, if I’ve been able to hold off from smacking him every day for the past seven months I’m sure you can too.”
John laughed awkwardly and cleared his throat. Something told you he wasn’t joking.
“Now, there’s a bar over there.” He pointed past you, out of the window, towards the dive bar sitting directly across from the diner “And even though I can’t drink whilst I’m working. I am going to go there anyway. I’ll be gone twenty minutes. Talk to him. Ignore him. Throw him out of here, for all I care. Do whatever you’ve gotta do.”
And with that John turned and walked out of the diner. The sounds of the city filled the diner as the door swung open and shut again. And then it was just you. And him.
And those two old guys sat at a table in the corner. Ignore them.
You shifted your weight on your feet, you wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him.
Your feet had carried you over to his booth before you had realised what you were doing. You couldn’t read the expression on his face, and for a second you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, but then-
“John ran out of here as quick as he fucking could, didn’t he?” Eddie… laughed? Genuinely laughed as he said it, a honey-thick smile covering his face.
“Yeah, he basically floored it to the bar over there” you pointed awkwardly, even Eddie was sitting with his back to the window, and couldn’t see. He smiled again anyway, dropping his gaze from you to stare at his hands that were resting on the table.
When you didn’t smile back you saw his whole body tense up. What did he expect from you here? To take him to the back room and fuck him?
“Can you sit down, and talk for a minute, maybe?”
“I’m working if you hadn’t already noticed.” You responded, voice slightly harsher than you meant for it to sound.
“I know- shit, I know. I didn’t mean that you weren't, I just meant,” he was stumbling over every other word, and you know it should have given you some satisfaction to see him like this. To realise that maybe you weren’t the only one who came out of this whole thing scorned. But you felt sorry for him, his eyes were heavy with something sad. His usual cocky facade was nowhere to be seen.
“I can sit for a while, it’s okay.” You hated how soft your voice went, Eddie heard it too, he bit back a smirk and sat up a bit straighter as you sat down across from him.
“Your shirt is wet,” Eddie said, making a vague gesture with his hand. It was still wet, you guessed, although it was much drier than it had been. “They really made you work in wet clothes? They had nothing for you to wear. You must be cold, that’s all.”
“My manager gave me some clothes to wear, yeah. I just kept my top because I didn’t feel like wearing hers.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side, a silent question as to why.
Well, fuck it. “She’s a big fan of yours. I didn’t want to walk around in a Corroded Coffin top all night so, here I am.”
There it was. He had been waiting for it. The moment he couldn’t avoid it any longer.
“Y/N I’m-”
You cut him off, you weren’t ready to hear whatever sorry excuse he pulled out of his ass. “Sorry? An asshole? A bastard? Take your pick, seriously.” Eddie watched you, his face blank as he took in every word you said.
You saw his jaw clench. The same way it had when he had left you alone in that hotel room.
“You want me to say sorry? For what, exactly?” You physically flinched at his words, the harshness of them. That honey-thick smile was nowhere to be seen, his eyes had gone distant.
“You want an apology because I treated you the same way I treat every other girl I fuck? Listen, sweetheart, you knew what the deal was from the start, don’t act like some fucking innocent party in all of this.” You felt the breath go from your lungs, he had leaned forward as was speaking to you, leaning on his forearms as he broke your heart again.
“You’re telling me you didn’t go around telling anyone who would listen that we had fucked?” Eddie spat at you.
“No. I didn’t.” Your voice was quiet but definite. “I didn’t tell anyone.”
Eddie paused for a moment, something flashed across his face. Relief? Confusion? Anger? You truly couldn’t tell. You weren’t sure he could either. “Maybe you should have. Gossip tabloids will pay a lot of money for shit like that” he turned his head, looking away from you. You wanted to get up and walk away. Shout at him. Tell him how much he had hurt you.
“You asked me to sit down so you could insult me, was that it?” you asked him, “well you’ve done that so can I go now?”
“What did you think I was going to do? Profess my undying love for you? Tell you I tracked you down just so I could tell you how sorry I was?” Eddie shot back, he had built that wall back up around himself the minute you had snapped at him. He couldn’t bring himself back from that ledge, no matter how much he wanted to. And he so desperately wanted to.
Because whenever his eyes landed on yours felt his heart break, he truly believed you held the whole world in your eyes, a world he longed to be a part of.
“I thought you could be a decent fucking human being, Eddie.” Hearing you say his name made him feel like he was drowning. Your voice dropped as you decided you needed to get it out of your system. “I thought you would have some respect for me. Do you know how fucked up I’ve been over this? I fucking cried over you.”
Eddie didn’t try to interrupt, he didn’t have any reaction to what you had just said. You could almost believe he wasn’t listening to a word of what you were saying.
He was.
“I get it, okay. This is what you do. Fine. Good for you, if you’re happy like this then please don’t let me, or anyone else, stop you.” You weren’t sure where your confidence had come from, but you felt like this would be the only time he would be sat in front of you again. “I didn’t want to like you. I thought you would be a complete asshole, and I was fine with that.”
Your gaze dropped from his face to his hands, where he was pulling at the jewellery he had on his left wrist. His hands gave away everything he wasn’t saying, and you didn’t think he was even aware of how much he was giving away. A couple of seconds later his hands stopped moving, and he moved them off the table, onto his lap. He hadn’t realised you were watching him so closely. He hated that.
“Eddie, listen to me, I liked you. I felt safe with you” Eddie’s eyes scanned your whole face as you spoke, almost as if he was looking for any proof you were lying. You spoke slowly, determined for him to really hear you, and understand what you were saying. “You’re a good person, Eddie. You are not what everyone says you are. Maybe you try to be that guy, but you’re not. You care about other people, but I don’t think you care about yourself.”
Eddie’s face had softened, he swallowed and shook his head, barely. But you saw him do it, nevertheless.
“I don’t know you, I know that. But I think you want to be happy, you want to be a good person. But you can’t let yourself. I’m not saying this because I want you to fall in love with me, or some shit. But I hope one day you will fall in love with someone. And I hope you’ll let yourself love them.”
All of a sudden it was too quiet. You hadn’t even noticed that the two older gentlemen who had been in the diner had left. A twenty-dollar bill was left on the table. The radio played dimly in the background, the rain clattered against the windows and roof. The muffled sounds of the city nightlife outside. Eddie hadn’t said anything to you. You nodded your head and shuffled out of the booth, prepared to leave him alone until John got back.
You walked back over to the counter, picking up the money as you went. You weren’t sure how long it had been. You had made yourself a coffee and were about to start tidying up when you heard Eddie move. His heavy footsteps echoed off the floor, his leather jacket rubbing against itself. You looked up, expecting to see him walk out. But he didn’t.
“I’m– we’re playing a show. Tomorrow. If you want to come, that would– fuck, um.” you had never heard his voice sound like it did right now. Soft, but still him. That confidence was hidden just below the surface. “Please come. If you don’t want to watch the show, then come when it finishes.”
You were the one not saying anything now. You were so angry with him, he still hadn’t apologised. He had barely said anything to you, apart from the insults he had thrown at you. So why the fuck did you want to go. Why could you not imagine this being the last time you saw him?
“Come to the door, ask security to get John. He’ll make sure you get in okay, I promise.”
You didn’t have time to even nod in agreement before Eddie was heading for the door, he opened it and you couldn’t drag your eyes away from him. Even with the promise of seeing him tomorrow, it felt like too much of a risk to not take him in as much as you could whilst he was there.
“I’m sorry.”
And then he walked out, letting the door shut behind him. Only this time he had said something to you before he left you. And you knew, no matter how much it would make you hate yourself, that you would see him tomorrow.
.
.
.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? Genuinely, I’m genuinely asking you, this isn’t a joke anymore.” Eddie knew John would be insufferable on the drive to the hotel, but if he knew he would be like this? Eddie would have walked.
“I apologised to her. I invited her to the show, whatever she does is her decision.” Eddie bit out, John laughed at his words. The kind of laugh that said are-you-clinically-insane? Eddie couldn’t find it in him to disagree with that.
“Eddie, I have known you for almost as long as that girl has been alive-”
“Okay well that’s not what I need to hear right now, John for fuck-”
“No, listen to me. I have known you since you were barely older than her. And I have never ever seen you be so fucked up over someone else. I have never seen you care about someone else the way you do that girl– and don’t try and bullshit me here. Because you do care about her.” John sounded blunt, harsh. But Eddie knew he only sounded like that when he loved someone and wanted them to be okay. He only pulled out that voice when he needed to slap some sense into Eddie.
Eddie had never told him, but he did love John like a brother. He might tell him someday, maybe with you next to him. Maybe.
“For the past seven months, there is not a day gone by where I have looked at you and you weren’t completely zoned out. You were thinking about her, every time. I knew that. So now, here’s your chance. Not everyone gets those, you know that better than anyone.”
Eddie held back a shaky breath. John saw it, but he knew they needed to have this conversation.
“You are not your father, Eddie.” John needed him to truly understand that. “You never have been him, and you never will be. You won’t ever hurt that girl, in whatever way you’re afraid you will.”
Eddie froze, and then– “I don’t want to hurt her. I would never, I promise. But what if–”
“You are not your father,” John repeated “I know the kind of things he said to you, how he treated you. And how he treated your mother.”
Eddie nodded his head, tears welling in his eyes as he let John talk.
“The idea that you are even related to that man is astounding. And, how you got this reputation is beyond me.” John laughed, remembering something “You– you forced me to adopt a kitten you saw outside your trailer when I first met you, told me it needed to live with someone who had a ‘fancy-ass’ house. You gave her to me and threatened to tell my girlfriend if I said no.” Eddie laughed through the tears that were staining his cheeks.
“Don’t let your father win. He’s not around to control you anymore. If you ask me, you should have gotten on your knees and begged that girl to forgive you; begged her to give you a second chance.” The car stopped and John looked out of the window, the lights from the hotel flickering through the rain. John turned back to Eddie as he took off his seatbelt “Now, I don’t know if she’s going to turn up tomorrow. But if she does? Then she could be the happiest girl in the world if you just let yourself be vulnerable.”
Eddie nodded again, afraid that if he spoke his voice would break with all the emotions that were running through him.
“I assume I’m chaperoning this girl during the show tomorrow?” John said as they both climbed out of the car.
Eddie nodded, and John flung an arm around him as they walked into the hotel.
“I do not get paid enough for everything I do for you.”
.
.
.
After Eddie had left the rest of your shift flew by. No one else came in, which was normal for a weeknight. You spent the last couple of hours of your shift trying to distract yourself from the thoughts that were clouding your brain. Once the sun had started to rise and the orange sunlight began to flood through the windows you felt yourself heave a sigh of relief.
Your manager popped out from the back office every now and then, if she was aware of your run-in with Eddie she didn’t say anything. She never worked the night shift (being the manager had its perks), but the other waitress had called in sick earlier, and there was no one else to cover her.
She had told you she would drive you home, there was no way she was letting you get a taxi. You didn’t argue with her, thanking her and telling her you’d give her gas money, considering your apartment was in the opposite direction to yours. She was adamant you would do no such thing.
Just before 5 AM, the morning waitresses came in. You wouldn’t call them friends per se, but they were nice enough. One was in her mid-forties, with mousy brown hair that she always wore in a long ponytail, bouncing with each footstep she took during her shift. The other was around your age, and you were closer to her. You had been for drinks with her a couple of times, she was loud and extroverted so you never had to do much talking, which you were perfectly happy with.
They made polite conversation as they walked in, asking you how the night had been and if anything eventful had happened.
“Nope, it was pretty boring, to be honest.” There was no way in hell you were telling them that Eddie Munson had been sitting not even a foot away from where they were standing.
You politely dismissed yourself and went to find your manager. You ran into each other in the back hallway, she laughed telling you she was just about to come and rescue you.
The drive home was quiet, casual conversation was shared between the two of you, but nothing more. Soon enough she pulled up outside of your apartment building. You thanked her and went to get out of the car, but before you could she placed a hand on your arm.
“Y/N if there’s something bothering you, you can talk to me, you know? You’ve been quiet for a few months now. I don’t want to intrude or push any boundaries, but I care about you. And not just because you’re a good waitress.” You both laughed, and you assured her you were okay. Maybe one day you’d tell her what had been going on. But not just yet.
You went to bed as soon as you stepped foot into your apartment, only making time to pull off your clothes and throw on the oversized t-shirt you slept in. The mattress seemed to swallow you whole as you threw your body down and pulled your comforter over your head.
.
.
.
You only realised you hadn’t set an alarm when you woke up that evening, with a couple of hours left before you needed to leave.
To see Eddie.
Oh fuck.
You stumbled through your apartment to your bathroom and jumped in the shower. The cold water stole a breath from you and made sure you were awake. It took far too long for the water in your building to warm up, and to be honest, you figured taking a cold shower before you saw Eddie couldn’t be a bad thing.
Coming out of the bathroom, a fluffy towel wrapped around you, you turned on the lamps you had dotted around your apartment, the daylight quickly fading.
Your apartment was nice, you were incredibly lucky you had stumbled upon it when you moved here. It was only a studio, but what more did you need when it was just you? You separated your bedroom from the lounge and kitchen with a curtain that hung from the ceiling. It had been there when you moved in and you didn’t question how exactly the previous residents had got it there in the first place.
The rest of the apartment was undoubtedly old-fashioned. With 60’s and 70’s architecture but you made it your own. You brought all of your furniture from thrift stores, leaning into the 60’s look that you had been lumbered with. A variety of rugs covered the floor, lamps were placed on tables and plants were in every corner. It felt homely, certainly far from perfect but it was your own, and that was all that mattered.
You spent an hour or so doing your makeup, hair and getting dressed. You had never been the most confident person, but tonight you felt genuinely pretty. But you barely gave yourself time to let yourself feel that before the nerves took over your body. You felt lightheaded, a telltale sign that your anxiety was about to get the better of you.
So you did what you should never do in those situations. You eyed up the bottle of vodka you had out on your kitchen counter, left over from the other night when your friends had come over.
You told yourself you’d do one shot. Ease your nerves and loosen you up so you could at least talk to Eddie when you saw him.
Now, you would like to reiterate that this was the worst decision you could have made.
After the first shot, you called a taxi. And then you took two more shots before leaving your apartment.
You were a lightweight. This is important to note because you were already tipsy.
You arrived at the venue about five minutes before the concert started, meaning it was relatively quiet outside, everyone else was already inside, excitedly waiting for it to start. You remembered what Eddie had said about speaking to security and asking for John. It was cool outside, but not cold. The soft air hits your face and sobers you up slightly, you rested against a wall for a minute, asking yourself what the fuck you were doing.
Eddie had said sorry only after he had shouted at you. Accused you of telling anyone who would listen that you had fucked him. And maybe you were crazy, maybe you were being stupid. But… you looked at him and you felt like you were wrapped in a warm hug, his eyes were deafening. One look into them and time slowed down, any music stopped playing, and everyone stopped talking, all because you were looking at him.
You couldn’t ignore that feeling. It was the feeling you read about in fairy tales as a child. So here you were, wearing your heart on your sleeve. Trusting Eddie not to break it.
You made your way over to one of the entrances and spoke to the man standing there. You asked him to get John. He asked your name, and when you told him a knowing look crossed his face. He smiled and told you to wait there.
Has Eddie told everyone about you? No, no he wouldn’t do that. He probably told John to let security know you were coming, so they wouldn't turn you away.
Whilst you waited for John you felt the alcohol really take an effect. Oh no.
Before you had time to curse yourself for your decisions John rounded the corner, he smiled at you and waved you forward.
“I really hoped you would turn up. I don’t know why, but I did.” John told you, there was something in his voice you couldn’t place. He sounded happy, amused almost. A complete turnaround from his demeanour when you first met him.
“Eddie could convince anyone to do anything.” your voice was slightly shaky, trying to act sober will do that to a person. John looked at you as he led you to the balcony you would watch the show from, a knowing look crossing his face.
If he knew you were drunk, he spared you the embarrassment of pointing it out “He really could.” John pushed back a curtain and signalled for you to walk through. The balcony was big, and there were plenty of people up there. Some were sitting on the sofas that were dotted along the back wall, others were leaning over the railing watching the concert. It had just started, and the noise was deafening as you walked in, the music was almost drowned out by the screams throughout the arena.
“I’ll come back to get you at the end” you nodded your appreciation and walked over to the railing, a couple of people smiled at you. You assumed they were all family and friends, and suddenly you felt incredibly out of your comfort zone. You focused on the show instead, ignoring the eyes that you could feel staring at the back of your head. You didn’t blame them for being curious as to who you were, you just wished they would stop staring at you.
Twenty or so minutes later someone who obviously worked the bar brought over a tray of cocktails for everyone. Given your already tipsy state, you were inclined to pass on them, but then a sweet woman brought you one over. She was all wide smiles, sparkly eyes and gentle conversation. And soon enough you were downing another cocktail whilst she told you all about herself.
She was the wife of the drummer. They were high-school sweethearts and had a kid together. It was nice, she didn’t pressure you to tell her exactly why you were there which you were grateful for. You weren’t sure how to explain you were a one-time hook-up who was now here for… you still didn’t know what you were here for. But you felt yourself relax as you finished the cocktail and you ended up enjoying yourself far more than you had anticipated, a smile was plastered across your face when the concert ended and John came up behind you, a gentle tap on the shoulder to get your attention.
“Eddie asked me to take you straight out to the car, he’s already there,” John said as he held an arm out around you. You were drunker than you thought.
“Why are we going to a car? Wait–” You turned around comically fast, John held back a laugh when you held your arm out to steady yourself “did you tell Eddie I was… drunk?” you whispered the last word, for some reason.
You were so far gone it would have been funny any other time. Right now you wanted the floor to swallow you whole.
“I popped my head in halfway through and saw you down a cocktail. Considering I could smell vodka on you when you got here I made the safe assumption you wouldn’t be sober.” your face dropped at his words and he noticed, “hey don’t worry about it. Eddie is in no position to judge anyone for this, trust me, sweetheart.”
You nodded and let him lead you to the car, the cold night air a welcome feeling on your warm skin. John opened the door for you and you looked in to see Eddie with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Oh no he’s gonna laugh at me John” you sounded like a child who had been caught eating chocolate when they weren’t supposed to. John couldn’t help but find it endearing.
“Yeah he might, but it will be out of love” you tilted your head at his words. ‘Out of love’ was a saying, but the idea of Eddie loving you made your heart jump and your brain shut off.
John asked for your address, and when you questioned why exactly he needed to know that, he said Eddie was taking you home.
.
.
.
“Okay you’re like Bambi on ice here sweetheart, give me your hand”
You had arrived at your apartment soon enough, the flickering city lights and the motion of the car enough to make your head spin. Eddie noticed and told you to rest your head on his shoulder. You did what he said, practically burying your face in his jacket to stop the dizziness from getting worse. Now you were attempting to make it up to your apartment, which was proving to be a much more difficult task than it should be. You had sobered up compared to earlier, but you were still tipsy and your balance was questionable at the best of times. You were still tipsy enough to be far more relaxed than you were expecting to be around Eddie.
Eddie held a hand out for you and you wrapped your fingers around his wrist, balancing yourself as you walked down the corridor.
“I am much more graceful than Bambi ever was,” you told Eddie, trying to search for your keys in your pockets as you stood outside your door.
“If you say so” Eddie laughed, it was a sweet laugh, one that filled your whole body with warmth and made you feel all gooey inside. Gooey was not a word that existed in your daily vocabulary, but apparently, it was when you were drunk.
“Please tell me you have your keys–”
“I have them! These pockets are just– oh! See, I’ve got them!”
“You sure do” Eddie watched you as he kept a gentle arm around you, he wasn’t touching you, he was just ready for you to go down at any minute.
You not-so-gracefully managed to get your keys in the door and swing it open, Eddie was hesitant, waiting outside your door as you swept your apartment, turning on the lamps and closing your curtains. “You can come in, you know”
“I just wanted to make sure you got home safe, that’s all.”
“I thought you wanted to talk to me?” you asked him, had he changed his mind? You felt tears well at the back of your eyes and you silently cursed yourself.
“Tomorrow. If you want to. I’ll give you my number, and you can call me when you’re not drunk, okay sweet?”
“O-okay. '' he watched you search for something for a minute, and then you were signalling for him to come in. He did, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it, not wanting to overstep any boundaries.
“Here. Write your number down for me,” you told him as you held out the pad and paper. A smile spread across his face and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
“I could just put my number into your phone, sweetheart. I thought I was meant to be the old one here.”
“Shut up, it’s cute this way,” you whispered under your breath, but he clung to every word. You were different in your own home, Eddie thought. More relaxed, although that could be the alcohol. But no, the way that you walked around, comfort seeping into you as you relaxed back into your own space. The way you had slipped your shoes off instantly, your socks padding across the floor as you turned on the lights. It suited you, he thought.
Eddie nodded his head to the table in the corner, asking if he could lean against that to write his number for you, as you had insisted. You mouthed a ‘yeah’ at his request. He seemed to take in everything around him as he walked over to the table, looking at the decor you had lying around. You suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable.
He was in your home. This man was still arguably a stranger. But that pang of vulnerability was soon replaced with a feeling of contentness. Eddie suited domesticity. He fit right into your space, his style a contrast to your apartment, but it wasn’t unwelcome.
You pulled your eyes away from Eddie long enough to try and grab yourself a drink of water. But as you leant your hands on the kitchen counter you placed your hand right on a knife you had left out earlier. In your drunken state, you attempted to pick it up and put it away, but you managed to grab the sharp edge. You pulled your hand back quickly, but there was still a cut on your palm, blood pooling around the injury.
“Oh shit,” you hissed, pain evident in your voice.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie practically jumped out of the chair he had sat in, dropping the pen he was holding and making his way over to you.
“I picked up that knife,” you told him.
“What– why– why did you do that?” Eddie asked you, with genuine confusion in his voice as he gently took your hand into his, looking at the damage you had done.
“Well I thought it would be fun to– I obviously didn’t do it on purpose!” you said defensively, but you were smiling at him despite the pain.
“Yeah, okay.” Eddie hadn’t heard any of what you had just said, you could tell by the flatness of his voice, “come on, let’s get you sorted out.”
You suddenly felt nervous, his hand on your sending heat rising throughout you. “No, it’s okay. You go, I can just stick a bandaid on it. It’s all good.”
“I won’t be able to sleep tonight knowing I left a lady in distress.” Eddie joked, you couldn’t help the blush that flooded your cheeks at his words, “besides your hand could still fall off.” Eddie said in a dead-serious tone. One that made you burst out laughing.
“I think it’ll be okay,” you said through breathy laughter.
“Let me take care of you and we’ll know for certain,” Eddie said. You nodded and he asked you where your bathroom was. You stared at him for a second and then pointed to the only door in the apartment, besides the front one. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t the smartest cookie in the jar. But that was okay.
Eddie led you to the bathroom and you sat down on the counter next to the sink, holding your hand out in front of you.
“Do you have a first-aid kit?” Eddie asked you gently.
“In the cupboard below the sink,” you told him, moving your legs to the side so he could get to it.
Eddie bent down and grabbed it off the shelf. He stood back up and placed it next to you, opening it and grabbing out what he needed. You moved your legs so Eddie could stand between them. He picked up your hand and looked at it once more before he gently cleaned it. You watched his hands the whole time, the way he was so soft with you, whispering out little apologies when you whispered out a complaint once that it hurt.
Eddie wrapped a dressing around your hand, you asked if it was too much but he said the cut was deeper than you realised. So you simply nodded and watched his hands wrap around yours. Once he had secured the dressing he looked up at you, breathing a “done” and holding your hand in his.
You meant to say thank you, but that wasn’t what came out “You’re really pretty.”
Eddie smirked and dropped his head, you could tell he was trying not to laugh at your brutal honesty. “So are you angel.”
A sickly-sweet smile crossed both of your faces. You wanted to kiss him.
You should kiss him.
You moved your head ever so slightly, but Eddie caught on to what you were doing and brought his spare hand up to rest on your cheek, a sweet movement but one that was intended to stop you from doing what you were about to.
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m tipsy,” you insisted.
“I’m not gonna kiss you. Not tonight, sweetheart.” You pouted at his words. A childish move and quite frankly it confirmed to him that you were far from sober.
“When I kiss you again, I want you to remember it.” you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his. His hand on your face, and his voice and his eyes and it was all-consuming.
“Come on, get into bed,” you smirked and he swore every time you smiled at him you took a little piece of his heart with you. “By yourself, smartass. Get into bed by yourself.”
“My makeup,” you told him. It was barely a full sentence but it was the best you could do when he was standing so close to you.
“Yeah, I like it.” He said. He rubbed his thumb under your eye and you held back a laugh.
“No– I can’t go to sleep in my makeup.” you clarified. He sighed out an ‘oh’ and then dipped back down to open the cupboard below the sink. You weren’t sure what he was doing, but then he came back up with makeup remover and a washcloth. A smile that tugged on his star-filled eyes flooded his face.
Your heart broke for him all over again but for a different reason this time.
“Close your eyes, angel. Don’t wanna blind you.”
You did as he said, slowly closing your eyes after you saw him tip some of the water onto the cloth. He was incredibly gentle with you, barely applying enough pressure to remove the makeup, but you didn’t tell him that.
After a minute or so you felt his hand leave your face and you hesitantly opened your eyes. He smiled at you and tilted his head, taking you in.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Shut up old man.” you let out an obnoxiously loud laugh. In your defence, in your current state, that was the height of comedy.
“Oh wow. You have a talent for running perfect moments don’t you doll.”
“I’m sorry. You’re not old” You told him, moving to get down off the counter and make your way into bed, “You’re middle-aged”
Eddie huffed out a laugh as he followed you, “I’ll take it.” He sighed, you couldn’t see but his eyes were full of love as he watched you get into bed. You hadn’t bothered to change into pyjamas. That felt… too much. You were drunk enough that you could easily fall asleep in your clothes.
“Do you need to lock the door after me,” Eddie asked quietly.
“The door locks automatically, as soon as you shut it. I’ve been locked out too many times to count,” you told him, your voice muffled by the pillow your head was smushed against.
“Okay.” Eddie ran a hand through your hair that fell around your face. “I’m gonna go, angel.”
You were too tired to verbally respond anymore, sleep had quickly taken over when your body hit the mattress. You heard Eddie move around, but didn’t lift your head to see what he was doing. And then you heard the door open and shut.
Your eyes shut to the sound of his walking down the corridor.
.
.
.
When you woke up the next morning your first thought was of Eddie.
And that was how you knew you were officially fucked.
You sat up and a glass of water on your bedside table caught your eye. You didn’t remember putting it there but you gratefully leaned over and picked it up, taking small sips as you assessed how bad your hangover was.
It wasn’t. That was your saving grace. You were still young enough to avoid bad hangovers; you had a slight headache and the sunlight seemed slightly too bright. But it was nothing a couple of painkillers wouldn’t sort out. Sitting up fully you swung your legs out of the bed, feet hitting the floor with a dull thud.
You put the now-empty glass back down and a piece of paper grabbed your attention. Picking it up you saw a number written down. And an ‘-E’ next to it.
.
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.
Eddie got back to the hotel to find John waiting outside his room.
“It’s creepy to stalk people, you know?” Eddie announced as he pulled out the card to open the door.
John ignored him, “How was the girl?” heasked, tiredness seeping from him.
“You know her name, what’s with calling her ‘the girl’ all the time?” Eddie asked as he stepped inside.
“I like it. Makes it sound more mysterious.” John said as he leaned in the doorway, watching Eddie make his way down the hallway and into the bedroom.
“She’s passed out in bed,” Eddie shouted loud enough for John to hear him.
“Good. The poor girl’s gonna have a hell of a morning.”
“She’s young, she’ll be fine,” Eddie said, coming back out from the bedroom and leaning against the wall.
“Right. And you? You’ll be fine too?” John asked sincerely.
“If you let me get some damn sleep I’ll be great.” John nodded and pushed himself off the door frame, pulling the door shut behind him.
Eddie didn’t sleep much that night. He tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning, finally falling asleep when his body physically couldn’t stay awake any longer.
He was thinking about you. He couldn't stop thinking about you.
Which is why when his phone rang halfway through the morning, he jumped off the couch and practically lunged for his phone that was sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
“Hello?” Eddie’s voice was loud against the quietness on the other end of the phone, for a minute he worried it wasn’t you calling. His chest suddenly felt heavy, but then–
“Hi. It’s me.” You.
Your voice rang through his head and he would never admit to anyone that a smile graced his face at the sound.
“How are you?” Eddie asked, he swore you could hear his smile in his voice.
“I’m alive.” you said, laughter bubbling up, “No, I’m okay actually.”
“Enjoy it, you won’t be young forever, doll,” Eddie told you as he fidgeted in his seat.
“Yeah– yeah I know.” something deeper seeped into your voice, a seriousness coming through your words. “Can we talk? I know you wanted to last night, and I’m so so sorry, I’m so embarrassed that I–”
“You’re all good, sweetheart,” Eddie responded and he heard you breathe a sigh of relief.
“Do you want to come over? I can send a car for you, come and pick you up?” Eddie asked, holding his breath as he waited for an answer.
“No I can just get a taxi, it’s okay.” Eddie already knew better than to argue with you, so he didn’t. “Where are you? Some fancy hotel for rich people I’m guessing?”
Eddie chuckled, he liked it when you made fun of him, because he could always hear the adoration in your voice as you did, “yeah I’m at uh– the same hotel I was last time.”
“Ah, yeah okay. So it’s okay for me to come over, you’re not busy?” You asked sweetly, nerves peeking their head.
“No. Never.” Eddie told you.
Eddie told you the floor and room number before you hung up.
Shit. Okay.
He made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t fuck this up again.
.
.
.
The drive to the hotel was the longest you had ever experienced. Every emotion was running through your body as you rode the elevator to Eddie’s floor. Your leg bounced underneath you repeatedly as you fiddled with the ring on your middle finger. Eventually, the doors opened and you stepped out, smiling at a couple as they walked past you.
You checked the number on each door until you reached the one Eddie had told you was his.
You could still turn around.
No.
You were already knocking on the door. And you heard someone move around through the door. You realised you were scratching your hands and quickly dropped them to your sides before the door opened, and you saw Eddie standing there.
He looked like he always did. Messy hair framed his face. Freckles dotted his nose and under his eyes.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice alone could convince you to do anything he asked of you, it was one of those voices that managed to seep into your veins and completely engulf you.
“Hey,” you responded, feeling that calm overtake you. The same calm and safety you felt whenever he looked at you, “Can I come in?” you asked when he didn’t say anything.
He was taking you in. He was also going over everything he wanted to say to you. He was terrified. Truly.
“Yeah– shit, yeah of course,” Eddie uttered, moving to the side to allow you to walk in.
It wasn’t the same suite as last time. This floor was higher up, but it was almost identical. The same layout, the same rooms, the same corridor he had left you standing in.
You walked in and made your way to where you knew the living room was, the same decadence overwhelmed you, and you had to take a minute to get used to it again. Eddie followed a couple of steps behind you - the air was thick with tension, neither of you entirely sure of what the other was about to say or do.
You turned to look at Eddie and inclined your head towards the couch, asking if it was okay for you to sit down. He nodded and you both sat yourselves down on either ends of the couch, enough space between the two of you for another person to fit there.
The TV played silently, a movie playing that you didn’t recognise. The floor-to-ceieling windows that covered the wall to the side of you let sunlight drown the room in a warm golden glow.
“I–”
“Do you-”
You both cut yourselves off as you spoke over one another. It could have been an awkward moment, but the feeling faded into something sweeter. A tender moment that showed each other just how nervous you both were. For some reason, knowing Eddie was just as nervous as you were made you feel better.
“Sorry, I just– I had some… stuff I wanted to to tell you, say to you.” Eddie told you, watching your face ccarefully. “If that’s okay.”
“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. I’m sorry, go ahead.” You settled back into the couch, lifting your legs and crossing them as you turned to face Eddie.
“Okay I’m not promising I’m very good at articulating myself, or fuckin’ whatever, so you’re gonna have to give me a minute.” Eddie said, his voice shaky.
“That’s okay.” you told him, your voice soft and bareilly above a whisper. His eyes had glazed over with something like fear, you wanted to lean across and rest a comforting hand on his, but you didn’t. Not yet.
“That morning, when I left you–” you tensed up as the memory flooded back, Eddie noticed it too but carried on, “I have regretted that every day since then. I’ve done some really fucking stupid things, maybe one day I can tell you all of them, but that? Leaving you? That is the worst thing I have ever done.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat and he coughed before carrying on talking, giving himself a minute to gather himself.
“I thought I would move on. Forget about you– and I know, that makes me sound like a complete asshole, but I’m tryna be honest here. I wanted to forget about you. I needed to. Because the way I felt when I looked at you, scared me so much I didn’t know what to do.”
The emotions you were both feeling were palpable in the comforting silence of the room. You didn’t try and interject, letting Eddie talk. You had never heard his voice sound so genuine. Almost like every other time he had spoken he had been putting on a mask, pretending to be someone else- pretending to be the rockstar everyone so desperately wanted him to be. You liked this version of him a lot more.
“When I was a kid my–” he paused for a minute, unintentional, as if he wanted to speak but he couldn’t form the words for a second, “my mom used to tell me that when you meet someone who makes you feel so happy it terrifies you, you should hold onto them.”
“Because that’s when you know its real. She told me you couldn’t love someone without being scared to death at the same time. Because loving somsone? Fuck, it’s a big feeling, you know?” You laughed gently at that, for someone who famously wrote his own music he really did have an interesting choice of words, but you found it endearing.
“It takes over every part of you and when she would tell me that, I thought she was lying, or something. Because if falling in love was so terrifying I didn’t understand why people would do it.” Eddie was moving his hands as he spoke, punctuating every word with a gentle movement. “And then I never felt that way, towards anyone. In forty years I never looked at someone and felt the world fall out from beneath my feet. And I was glad I didn’t, because I didn’t want to hurt that person.”
Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, your moth dropping open slightly to ask him what he meant. But then he was talking again, and you settled back into listening.
“Sweetheart I am not here to try and emotionally blackmail you into staying, or being with me, or anything, okay?” Eddie’s voice went more serious, his eyes staring into yours in a way that made you think he could see right through you and read every thought that was running through your mind.
“And I’m not going to sit here and tell you some cliche sob story about how I had a shitty childhood and it fucked me up or anything.” You hadn’t realised it but you had moved closer to Eddie, your knees grazing each others as you listened to him talk.
“I did have a crappy childhood- I mean it wasn’t the worst, by any means but it wasn’t an all-American family with a white picket fence, you know? My dad was- my dad was the worst man I’ve ever met in my life, he treated my mom like a fucking piece of shit and I hated him for it. I listened to them fight, argue, I would leave my bedroom door open so I could hear if I needed to go and help my mom.”
You felt tears well in your eyes as he spoke. He was being completely honest with you. You could tell. This wasn’t easy for him to talk about.
He had never spoken about this.
“He’d hit her, do other things too but I remember when he would hit her. I remember the noise it would make. I would try and grab his arm but he would just swing back at me and throw me against the nearest wall– and I was a skinny kid you know? Fuck there was nothing of me, so I had no chance against him.”
Eddie seemed to quickly realise how much he had just said, what he had admitted to you and his face dropped. “Fuck I– I only told you that because one day, after my mom had left, and we were fighting he told me that– he told me that I was just like him.”
“He said when he looked at me, he saw himself. Which I didn’t understand at first, because I was the spitting image of my mom. Hair, the eyes, everything. But then he laughed and told me that one day I’d realise it too, that I was gonna be exactly like him, whether I wanted to or not.” Eddie shifted his body weight on the couch, moving his hand to rest over the back of it.
“So that day I promised myself I would never fall in love with someone, because I would never put someone through what he put me and my mom through.” Eddie wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, he wasn’t crying but he obviously worried he was about to.
When he didn’t carry on talking you said, “Eddie can I say something?” he nodded and you moved your hand to rest it on his knee that was next to yours, his eyes followed your hand movement and then flicked back up to yours when he realised what you were doing.
“You just sat and told me that you’re biggest fear is turning into your dad, right?” Eddie nodded slowly, waiting to see what you were going to say. “But the fact that you just told me that? That means you are nothing like him.”
Eddie swallowed a lum in his throat, “I don’t want to hurt you, in any way. But what if there’s something inside me that is just bad.”
“What if there’s something inside of you that is just desperate to love and be loved?”
Eddie moved his hand to rest over yours, and you interlaced your fingers together.
“There’s more I want to tell you, but I can’t right now, I’m just not ready but I will, soon. And I will spend every minute of every day aplogizing for leaving you, for being an asshole to you at the diner, for everything. I promise you I–”
‘Eddie, I know you will.” you truly did know that.
“Okay.” his voice come out soft, gratefulness tinging his voice as he realised you genuinely meant it. And then an understanding flicked between the two of you.
You two were far from perfect. This situation was far from a fairytale. And maybe to everyone else you would seem crazy for what you were about to do. But you didn’t care. Because when you looked at Eddie you felt the most terrified you have ever felt in your life, because you knew you wanted to see his face every day for the rest of your life.
Eddie knew that too. He knew there was no other option anymore. He had to wake up next to you every morning, he had to fall asleep next to you every night, and there was no other choice expect that.
“Can you kiss me now?” you asked, a smile tugging on your lips and lighting your eyes up in a way that had Eddie falling head over heels all over again.
“Yeah– yeah, sweetheart. Come here,” Eddie leaned forward at the same time you did and cupped your face in both of his hands, you titled your head to the side and then all of the planets aligned and nothing else mattered except the press of his lips against yours.
The kiss started off slow, sweet and deep like you were both trying to saviour this moment for as long as possible. Eddie’s lips moved gently against your own and you reached up to take one of his hands that was cupping your face, and interlace your fingers together.
His lips were soft and you felt like you were floating on a sun-kissed cloud everytime he guided your head to the side, allowing him to kiss you harder, deeper. Soon enough that feeling built up inside you again and you took a leap of faith; opening your mouth and letting your tongue run softly over Eddie’s bottom lip, a desperate plead for more.
Eddie pulled back, you leaned forward trying to chase his lips, and he couldn’t help the love that consumed him at the look of serenity that painted your face. You didn’t want to be away from him for even a second. And neither did he, but he didn’t want to ruin this, or seem like he only wanted one thing.
“Sweetheart– we don’t have to.” Eddie told you gently, his hand caressing your face and his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin.
“You don’t want to?” You asked, if he didn’t want to you would stop, of course you would.
“No! I mean no, yes– I do want to, fuck of course I do. I just don’t want you to think-”
“I don’t think that Eddie, I promise.” you cut him off before he could finish speaking, already knowing what he was about to say, the worry that flashed across his face told you everything you needed to know. A sickly-sweet smile spread across his face before he leaned back in to kiss you. Your lips moving against each others in perfect harmony, like this was what you were meant to do all your life.
Eddie let his tongue run over your bottom lip, you let him deepen the kiss and your tongues met in a cataclysmic way, both of you desperate to taste each other. The kiss was fast and slow, deep and soft, it was everything you had been craving for the past seven months- even when you hated him, you couldn’t forget the way his lips had felt on yours.
You could have been making out for five minutes or five hours, time had no meaning when you were with Eddie, it was all him and nothing else. But then you felt him push you back slightly, he relucatlanly pulled away from you, his lips still grazing yours as he told you to lie down.
You did as he asked you to, clumsily manouvering your body until you were lay flat against the soft couch cushions, Eddie moving to lie on top of you. One of his hands rested on your waist, his fingers grazing the tiny slip of skin that was showing where your jumper had raised up. He rested his weight on his forearm next to your head, carefully moving your hair out of the way before he did so.
You breathed him in as he lowered his mouth to your jaw, planting gentle kisses over your face. His hair fell around both of you, and if kissing Eddie felt like heaven then you didn’t have the vocolabury to describe what it felt like to be underneath him, completely consumed by everything that was so undeniably Eddie.
His curly hair, his soft lips, the little sighs he let out when he kissed a new spot on your body, the way his ring-clad fingers graze your skin. It was as close to a religious experience that you would ever get.
Eddie trailed kisses down your across your jaw and down your neck, you lent your head back further, giving him more room and you felt his lips turn up into a smile against your skin.
Your hand raised to rest in Eddie’s hair as he kissed your neck, instantly finding your sweet spot again, as if no time had passed and every sound you had made and reacted to his every touch came flooding back to him as he tasted your skin.
He was determined be soft with you. Take things slow and savour every moment. You were too, but then Eddie gently grazed your sweet spot with his teeth and you found yourself pushing his head further into his neck, desperate for his touch.
Eddie listened to you, the hand on the back of his head told him everything he needed to know. He gently sucked a lovebite over your pulse point; the breathy moans that fell from your mouth were music to him, he would do whatever it took to hear those noises for the rest of his life.
Eddie continued to mouth at your neck until he needed to kiss you again. He lifted his head from your neck only to be met your heavy eyelids, mouth slightly parted and a look of complete comfort on your face. He held your chin between his thumb and forefinger, moving your head back up to him. Your noses touching before he connected your lips, and you kissed like the world was ending tomorrow.
This was perfect, but you needed more. You felt that familiar aching start to grow within you and you languidly moved one of your legs to wrap around Eddie’s waist, pulling him flush against you.
Your movement caused Eddie to falter in his kissing you, for just a second. And then he had his hand on your jean-clad thigh and he was carefully grinding his hips down into yours. Determined to keep the soft atmosphere you were both bathing in. You panted into each other’s mouths, neither of you kissing anymore, your lips only moving against each other because of the gentle movement of Eddie rocking against you.
Neither of you said anything, you didn’t need to. Your soft pants and whimpers filling the soothing silence in the room. Both of you perfectly content to just take each other in, feel each other’s bodies move against each other, without any rush for more.
You lasted like that for a while. Sweet kisses shared between the two of you. And then Eddie made one move with his hips that had you moaning louder than you had before, and suddenly it wasn’t enough.
“Eddie,” you managed to breathe out.
“Yeah, angel?” Eddie asked you, his own voice sounding fucked out already.
“Need more,” Eddie pressed a kiss to your lips in response, he would give you whatever you needed.
“Yeah? tell me sweetheart, I’ll give you whatever you need, you just need to tell me.” Eddie’s soft voice settled over you and tightened your grip on him, grounding yourself. Trying to remind you that was real. This was really happening. Eddie made you feel so safe that you didn’t feel any embarrassment in telling him what you needed.
“I need- fuck, need your fingers, please.” Eddie whispered an okay and managed to slip his hands between your bodies, sitting up to undo the buttons on your jeans, his hands were shaking slightly. Yours were too.
“Can you just lift your–” you did what he asked before he got the question out. Somehow, despite him lying over you, he managed to take your jeans and underwear off. You both laughed quietly when it became slightly awkward, both of you moving around as you needed to. Soon enough he had your jeans placed on the floor next to you.
Eddie placed kisses along the top of your thigh, moving up to kiss over your waist and stomach, gently pushing up your jumper once you signalled it was okay for him to do that. He already had your pants off, and yet he wouldn’t even lift your top up without getting your permission again.
Eddie was kissing every square inch of your body, his plump lips leaving sparks everywhere he touched you. As content as you were to bask in the affection, you really needed him to touch you.
You tapped his shoulder and pulled him up to you, moving him where you wanted him, exposing his neck so you could kiss it. He let you, tilting his head to side and letting small breathless whines fall from his lips as yours caressed his neck.
You felt his hand slip between your bodies again and then his fingers fell to between your legs and he ran them through your slit, gathering the wetness he found there and moving them up to your clit.
“Fuck doll, you’re so wet, so fuckin’ perfect for me.” Eddie was breathless just from feeling how needy you were for him. He already knew he would never get over the affect he had on you.
You moaned out in response and Eddie circled your clit. His fingers sedning sparks through your body, “Oh god– Eddie”.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, let it out. Let me hear you.” Eddie cooed at you, applying slightly more pressure and just barely speeding up, and when your back arched off the sofa he smiled, knowing he’d found the perfect way to touch you.
Eddie dipped down to kiss you, and you pulled him closer to you. You werne’t sure you would ever be close enough to him. He kissed you as his hand worked you to your breaking point, he swallowed your soft whimpers and moans, letting out little shh shh shh’s and comforting praise when you got too worked up.
“Fuck oh my god– inside me, please Eds,” The nickname broke his heart and he kissed your forehead before dipping his two fingers down to press them gently inside you.
The stretch of his two fingers was definitely there, but it was clouded by the pleasure that spread through your body, and the relief of him touching you the way you needed.
“You’re okay, sweets?” Eddie asked when he saw your eyebrows scrunched together, eyes closed. But then you moaned and nodded your head with such certainty it would have been comedic if he wasn’t so completely enamoured by the way you were falling apart underneath him.
He slowly started moving his fingers in you, your wetness making it feel even better. Eddie was barely even pulling them out of you, instead he rocked them gently inside you, and when he curled his fingers upwards you swear you died for a second. Your eyes screwed shut and your mouth dropping open in a soundless moan.
You were so despeate you knew from the start you wouldn’t last long, but he had barely been going for two minutes and you felt that knot get tighter in your stomach and you knew you were so close to being thrown over the edge.
Eddie felt you get tighter around his fingers and he was grinding his hips down into your thigh without even realising he was doing it. Feeling his hips move against you was all you needed to send you to your breaking point, Eddie noticed instantly in the way your breath hitched.
“Are you gonna come for me, sweetheart?” you nodded as he kissed your cheek, your nose, the side of your mouth; anywhere he could reach. “You can come angel, come on. Just let go for me, I’ve got you. Need to feel you come all over my fingers for me”
His words sent you over the edge and you barely even recognised the sounds you let out, your ears were ringing and you were sure your vision blacked out for a second. Eddie never let up, working you through your orgasm, drawing it out for as long as possible, letting you ride it until it got to be too much.
When it did, your hand flew down to his hand, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. Eddie carefully pulled his fingers out of you and your eyes went wide with need when he raised them to his mouth, cleaning your arousal off of them and dipping down to kiss you.
The taste of yourself on his tongue was all-consuming. Eddie moaned against you and you pushed your hand between you to feel his cock through his pants. His hips stuttered and he swore under his breath.
“Fuck sweetheart, keep doing that.” Eddie practically begged you, and who were you to say no to such a pretty man begging you to touch him?
You kept plaming him over his pants, he was moaning into his neck and when you undid his zipper to slip your hand underneath he almost bit down on the skin he was sucking on to stop himself from distrubing the rest of the hotel with the sounds that were falling from his mouth.
“Shit, okay– I need to be inside you, angel. Is that okay?” Eddie asked, his eyes clouded with arousal and his skin flushed.
You nodded and shorty after Eddie was pulling you up from your position on the couch. Eddie stood up and held his hand out for you. You took it and he led you to the bedroom across the hallway. Time slowed down as he delicately placed his hands on you hips and pulled you against him, kissing you as he placed his hand behind your head and lay you down onto the bed, climbing to rest on top of you.
You kissed him until you felt him tense against you. You bit back a laugh at how desperate he was, he didn’t want to rush you, of course. But he was certain if he didn’t get inside you in the next two minutes he was going to go insane. He needed to feel you around him.
You pushed Eddie’s shoulder and he pulled away from you to see what you were doing.
“Fuck me, Eddie.” you said breathlessly.
Eddie didn’t need to be asked twice.
He backed off you to throw off his trousers and top and grab a condom. You watched him intensely and felt the wetness cover your thighs at the sight of him.
You had almost forgotten how perfect he was. Almost.
He moved back over you, kissing you as he wrapped your legs around his waist loosely. He guided himself into you, rubbing himself over your clit a couple of times until you were whimpering for him to please fuck you.
He remembered the last time. How it took you a second to adjust to him. He was gentle as he pushed unto you a few inches. He stold your breath from you for a second, the stretch not feeling as painful as last time, instead you were already begging for more. Moving your hips to get him deeper.
Eddie smiled and carried on pushing into you. Watching your face for any sign that you were uncomfortable, but it never came. Soft whimpers and moans fell from your lips and your legs tightened around him as he bottomed out inside you.
It felt so right. Nothing felt as right as Eddie being inside you.
“Fuck, good girl– taking me so fucking well.” Eddie praised you as he began to move inside you, pulling out almost all the way and then back into you.
He found the perfect rhythm. One that had you both whispering soft praises into each others mouths and had your nails digging into his back. His forearms were back on either side of his head as held his body weigh off of you.
But when you whimpered out in protest at the small piece of space left between you he lowered himself, his chest flush against yours and his head buried in your neck.
His ring-clad fingers held onto your thigh around his waist- despite the gentleness, you were sure you would have marks there afterwards.
Eddie normally lasted a while, but being inside of you sent him flying towards his release ridiculously fast. He mouthed at your neck and when he hit that sweet-spot inside you, you let out a moan that could have made Eddie come there and then.
“Fuck baby, you feel so good– oh god,” his voice was muffled against your neck, never stopping pressing kisses into your skin.
“You feel so good too, fuck Eddie.”
Eddie wanted you to come again before him, he pushed one of your legs up, holding it against you and the change in position had you clawing at his back and pulling his head up so you could kiss him.
You could tell Eddie was close by the whimpers he was letting out, his head dropping to rest against yours and you could hear him right in your ear, sending your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Fuck I want you to come for me, Eddie,” you whispered against his hair.
He pulled up to look at you, he looked completely fucked out and you wondered how he hadn’t come already.
“Want you to come first, angel, okay?” Eddie asked you, desperation seeping through his words.
“No, no it’s okay. Please I want you to come. I need you to come for me, please baby–”
Eddie mewled and you pulled him down into a fiery kiss, the gentleness that had permeated everything you had done before suddenly disappearing.
“Jesus sweethear, you;re gonna kill me, oh fuck–”
Eddie groaned and you felt his hips stutter against yours as he came. You ran your fingers through his hair as he came. His grip on your thigh loosening and your leg dropping back against the mattress when his whole body went limp.
If he wasn’t already flush against you he would have collapsed.
You both breathed heavily as he came down from his high. You don’t know how long you lay there for, but Eddie slid his arm underneath your back and pulled you impossibly tighter against you as his head found its place back in your neck.
You were glad he was so fucked out, because you didn’t want him to pull out yet. You loved the feeling of him inside you.
“Sweetheart?” Eddie said into your neck.
You ran your nails along his scalp, humming in answer to his question, telling him you were listening.
“Thank you, fuck you’re. I–” Eddie stopped himself when he looked at you.
But you knew what he wanted to say. He just couldn’t yet. You understood.
“I know. I know, Eddie.” You comforted him and he kissed you, his tongue running over your lips and you stayed like that for a while. Soft, deep kisses shared as you both came to terms with what had just happened. What it meant.
Soon Eddie moved off of you, pulling out gently and tidying himself up. You expected him to come back with a warm washcloth to clean you up to. But when he walked back into the room he pulled you to the end of the bed and knelt down in front of you, pulling your legs over his shoulders.
“Eddie, what–”
“You didn’t come, sweetheart. That just won’t work.” Eddie said before he ran his tongue over your sensitive cunt and your hands dived into his hair and your back arched off the bed and the whole world seemed to go quiet again.
His tongue ran through your slit, alternating between sucking on your clit and dipping his tonuge inside you. You mewled and whimpered and he held his arm over your waist to keep your body pressed to the mattress. But leaving you enough space to grind your hips into his face, he mewled and pulled back to tell you how good you were being for him, that he wanted you to use him until you were seeing stars.
You didn’t last long after that. Your hand covered his that held your waist down and you threw your hea back, letting your hips mvoe against him and not hiding the moans that fell from your half-open mouth.
“Oh fuck me, Eddie– I’m gonna–”
“I know, come on angel, come for me.”
That was all it took for you to go over the edge for the second time. Eddie worked you through your orgasm again, only moving his mouth away from you when you were physically pulling back from the overstimualtion.
When you opened your eyes, as you felt the mattress dip around you, you saw Eddie. His star-flecked eyes looking at yours and you held him against you.
No one else could ever make you feel the way he could.
And no one else could make him feel the way you did.
.
.
.
You and Eddie spent the rest of the day in bed together. Limbs tangled and your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he softly scratched your back whilst you talked about anything and everything.
It didn’t matter what you were talking about, it just mattered that you two were together.
You had sex a few more times that day, each time taking your breath away just like the first time. It was all slow and intended to show the other just how much you meaned to each other.
You fell asleep that night completely exhausted. You wrapped yourself around Eddie and he felt sure this was how he would fall asleep for the rest of his life.
You weren’t perfect. Neither of you were. But you didn’t want each other to be perfect- you just wanted you to be yourselves. And you were.
There was a lot to figure out, Too many things you had to discuss and learn about each other. But for now, this was enough.
And when you woke up the next morning, the sunlight hitting your faces from forgetting to shut the curtains, you only pulled the comforter over both do your heads.
Eddie stirred awake and pulled you tighter against him, his arms wrapped around you and you settled back against him, your face in his neck as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, lulling you back to sleep.
.
.
.
thank you so much for reading! <3
taglist @harrys-four-nipples @choke-me-eddie @hbaramas @cardiganquinn @etherealeddie @eddies-girl-22 @tlclick73 @c0untryclub @eddiemunson95 @harrys-tittie @bestofbucky @somethingvicked @emma77645 @bebe0701 @bibieddiesgf @ganjas-shit @corkadymu @digitalhearts @specialsnowflake-gabbi @littlestarfighter03 @mandyjo8719 @hargrovesswifee @eddiesguitarskills @sunnytkm23 @bpj519 @ajeff855 @sebastiansstanswhore @marriedtoeddie @manda-panda-monium @kissmyacdc @tayhar811 @husherstan @teary-eyed-egg @ourautumn86 @whenshelanded @alana4610 @tabloidteen @tobesolovelysstuff @damon-loves-pie @georgiapeaches-world @josephsfavoritegirl @angel-jz @kittenslovie @boinkybarness @sadpetalsstuff @sashaphantomhive @winterton-reads @hermadroyalhiney @loveberrie (i'm sorry if you asked to be on the tag list and you're not here, it got chaotic and i tried my best 🤍)
#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson comfort#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff#eddie munson#rockstar!eddie smut#rockstar!eddie#older!eddie smut#older!eddie#older!eddie x reader#stranger things#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson au#joe quinn#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x you
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May I have. A fun fact please :)
fun fact! the baader-meinhof phenomenon, or frequency effect, is not really some sort of mystical thing or a sign from the above or whatever. hell, it's not even that much of a phenomenon. your brain is simply drawn to things that you have just found out about, or have already been thinking of, and so you start noticing that thing repeatedly. some people think it's weird or that like, i dont know, the universe is spying on their thoughts and trying to give them a message. but really it's just what our brain does best: notices patterns. let's say for example you find out that bamboo is a grass (hey, that's another fun fact for you!) and so next time you turn on the tv or watch a youtube video or scroll down a few posts from this one, Bamboo Being Grass might get mentioned. several times, even. and you'd think: that's weird, could it really all just be a coincidence? but yes, it could! realistically, Bamboo Being Grass would've been mentioned in a bunch of places anyway, it's just that you are now more inclined to notice that fact because it's new information for your brain!
#i don't know if this is like obvious or common information... but personally i didnt know this until a bit ago! used to think it was#something weird. the universe doing cocomelon shit to me. but rly that's just human brains for you#although if i'm honest i haven't really started experiencing this effect until maybe a year or two ago... or well maybe i have been#experiencing it before and just didn't notice/can't remember. but it rly does feel like such a newfound thing to me#or hey maybe just because i found out it exists as a concept Now i am more inclined to notice when it happens?#who knows#cramswering
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This will be a bit of a geeky question, but it's not about That Fic I promise. I saw you chatting with people in German here about using Memory Culture in your fic, and I noticed when reading that in your notes you mention 1960s/70s Germany when talking about memory of Fearnorians, apologizing as this is my special interest but did you mean that you are using an analogy of the RAF group for the Fearnorians? Wow, that's so interesting of an angle, and I'm re reading and I can really see how youre working it using Elrond as someone directly affected by "memory gap" because of trauma. Really sorry if it's not on purpose, the Raf thing, but as someone who's kind of hyper fixated on that part of history now I'm so awed that youre using it in a LotR story!
VERY, very good spot, hot damn I am insanely impressed hahaha. I was heading back off lunch but saw this come in and wanted to answer it quickly before going back in but yes that is precisely what's going on.
I wouldn't say analogy, I don't like using direct historical parallels, simply because it reduces both fact and fiction to directly reflect each other without any changes. However, definitely Erinnerungskultur around the Baader-Meinhof Gruppe is what influenced the fic — not necessarily how the Fëanorians are portrayed, not at all, the characters aren't standins in any way — but rather how they are remembered, recorded, and perceived within the universe of the fic itself, and by varying degrees of proximity, and there is a deliberate similarity to how Estel chats about Maedhros' hand with how Ulrike Meinhof's brain was tossed around universities. In fact, the final epigraph for the last chapter coming soon is actually from Blackbox BRD, a film about the kidnapping and death of Alfred Herrhausen — "der Kampf ist vorbei, die Wunden sind offen".
I didn't actually intend for that approach to be too evident, because it's a fun little fic and in no way a historical treatise LMAOOO so yes, very outstanding spot, and very much on purpose — I don't have too much time to answer properly so here's the first page of notes I made a couple months back when coming up w the idea for the story, may make no sense if you don't speak German ofc but basically yes you're v right and it taking that lens is def intentional. Again, I'm v thrilled someone noted it!!!
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#aFactADay2024
#1178: look to your left without moving your head. now to your right. then down. now you can see your nose! (i have no idea if that actually worked.) in fact, it's always in your field of view (except when looking up, duh): your brain just blanks it out. this is called unconscious selective attention and it's the reason why you can concentrate on one thing. that viral video of the gorilla walking through the basketball players works because of this. the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, aka the frequency illusion, is the bias that once you learn of something or talk about it for a bit, you start noticing it everywhere. it happens to us all the time, and it's another cognitive bias, largely due to selective attention. the recency illusion (where you think that something must be a new thing because you only just found out about it) is also a corollary of selective attention.
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1/? ive seen you discussing music/songs/singing etc in regards to arthur/eames a few times so i thought i'd share this thought i had earlier today...what if every time they go under with arthur as the dreamer eames catches snippets of love songs playing in the background (or vice versa but i totally headcanon arthur as being the music aficionado & his taste in music has RANGE. like he listens to everything from billie holiday to lady gaga to bruce springsteen to abba to limp bizkit etc
2/? anyway.. arthur and eames standing side by side in a dream observing the mark, just the two of us plays somewhere, next time it's everywhere by fleetwood mac, then kiss me by sixpence none the richer, then meet me halfway by the black eyed peas (listen it's a banger. also ever since i reheard an old song by them and heard them mention inception in it i've found myself being quite fond of them), lovely day by bill withers, fantasy by mariah carey, heatwaves by glass animals, crazy little
3/? thing called love by queen... the list goes on... and then it's like the baader meinhof phenomenon where it starts passing over to real life. eames watching arthur walking away after splitting up after a successful job: ain't no sunshine plays in the bar where he's sipping his drink. after answering a call from arthur which eames only realises after he's hung up wasn't even job related and was simply a catch up- stevie wonder's i just called to say i love you starts playing on the car
4/4 radio. after a long time without a job together, eames walks into a warehouse and the minute his eyes meet arthur's across the room it must be love by the madness starts tinnily playing on ariadne's playlist. anyway. i love music and i love them so!
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Nonnie I am making a note of all of these, I am obsessed with the idea that one of them might hear snippets of love songs both in dreams and in life, especially if they are the dreamer - like our brains are so whacky and our subconscious seems so unique and out of our control who's to say this couldn't happen? (Now I'm imagining someones projections breaking out into song and the dreamer telling them, embarrassedly, to shut up) aha - this is so brilliant!!! I must know if they keep hearing songs when Arthur and Eames get together!
#my h eart#this is so sweet and romantic#therefore right up my alley#i want to shove them between the sticky sheets of a photo album and stick them there#arthur x eames
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Is the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon all around you? Let's see...
This phenomena is a frequency illusion where something you recently learned, heard, or noticed seems to appear more frequently afterwards.
But how does it occurs?
When you learn or notice something new, your brain becomes more active to that information, making you more likely to notice it again in the future.
Suppose while doing something, your eyes suddenly falls onto a word which you may have seen for the first time in your life. It may look strange to you and is feeded your memory. After that you may start noticing that word being used in conversations, articles, or even in advertisements.
But, this not only applies to words. This also occurs to names, faces, symbols, logos, patterns etc.
Is it useful?
This can enhance your knowledge and understanding of various topics.
Broaden your perspective by exposing you to different viewpoints, experiences, or patterns that you may not have noticed before.
But it can also.....
Create an illusion of significance of certain information, leading to misconceptions or overestimations.
Constantly noticing the same information or pattern can be distracting and may prevent from focusing on other relevant details or tasks.
Thanks to WWW.GOOGLE.COM, for the image and WWW.YOUTUBE.COM for a few information I used above. Rest is by my own research.
Thank You All for reading!!
#writblr#writers on tumblr#my writing#phenomenon#creative writing#interesting facts#information#writerscommunity
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TUMBLR HAS NO GOT DAMN ALGORITHM DO NOT BE A FOOL
I am and will always be a fool, I have absolutely no idea how this website works
all I know is I reblogged one cat video and the "For You" tab started showing me so many more of them
if it's not an algorithm then it's some sort of baader-meinhof cat effect, and what is that if not an algorithm inside my brain?
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I'm sure someone in other reblogs has mentioned it before, but you should look up the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, aka the frequency illusion
Basically, when you encounter something new, you notice that thing more cus your brain is subconsciously emphasizing new information, for example if you get a new car and suddenly notice a lot of people with that same model!
So since the number was important in the movie, your brain was subconsciously looking for it or paying more attention to it when you noticed it!
another unexplained occurrence happened today which was considerably more concerning than the first one that happened this week
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materials used- newspaper ads, magazine ads + photography
inspired by the sheer amount of ads i'm seeing on a daily basis and how they are forever invading my brain. adpocalypse and the baader meinhof phenomenon!
first piece of art made in my studio space!!!! :')
as exciting and fun as this is, i found everything a little overwhelming so i started with a little collage in my sketchbook (something easy + familiar). very very nice to have a space to take over and make a mess in that isn't the kitchen table/my bedroom floor/the dining room table/any flat surface...
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Ever noticed how something new suddenly seems to appear everywhere? That’s the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon at work! 🌟 Also called the Frequency Illusion, it’s how your brain highlights what you’ve recently learned or noticed. 🧠✨
Swipe through to explore how this fascinating phenomenon works and its real-life impact. 🚀
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POINTS FOR A RAGING HARDCORE PUNK BAND ROCKING THE WARS -- HAPPY "SCI-FI FRI," KIDS.
PIC INFO: Spotlight on a live shot of San Diego-based [socio-political] hardcore punk band, STRUGGLE, formed in 1990.
MINI-BIO: An angry and youthful band, their aggressive sound was heavily influenced by the likes of DOWNCAST and RORSCHACH. They broke up in 1993-'94? and members went on to be in: THE LOCUST, TARANTULA HAWK, CREEPY CREEPS, SWING KIDS, BREAD AND CIRCUITS, YAPHET KOTTO, BAADER BRAINS, ALL LEATHER, CRIMSON CURSE, HOLY MOLAR, HEAD WOUND CITY, GROUND UNICORN HORN, UNBROKEN, & BLACK HEART PROCESSION."
-- WHAT ARE BLOOD WINGS? (blogspot)
Source: http://whatarebloodwings.blogspot.com/2010/12/struggle.html.
#STRUGGLE hardcore band#STAR WARS#Sci-fi fantasy#Socio-political hardcore#Socio-political hardcore punk#90s punk#Hardcore punk#Sci-fi Fri#Sci-fi/fantasy#American Style#Punk gigs#SD hardcore#Punk photography#Original Trilogy#SD punk#STRUGGLE#STRUGGLE band#1990s#San Diego#American hardcore#90s#90s hardcore punk#90s hardcore
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Pulsebeat 329
Mondays 3pm EST bombshellradio.com Pulsebeat a new release based punk, alt. whatever show out of Abingdon, Oxfordshire broadcasting Mondays 3pm EST bombshellradio.com #Punk #Powerpop Pulsebeat #329 A1 Track No: Time Artist Title 1 00:00:10 Duncan Reid & The Big Heads - Lost Again 2 00;03:36 Martha - Hope Gets Harder 3 00:05:48 Big Joanie - In My Arms 4 00:10:00 The Loving Paupers - Mary 5 00:13:41 Outtacontroller - Gotta Get Out 6 00:16:56 Sir Bald Y Los Hairies - Rocket Fuel 7 00:18:31 Sprints - Up and Comer 8 00:22:16 The Kidney Flowers - Legs Running 9 00:25:18 C.O.F.F.I.N - Keep It Dark 10 00:28:41 The Hip Priests - Just To Get By 11 00:32:58 The Mistakes - A Good Hill To Die On 12 00:36:02 UK Subs - Brand New Age 13 00;37:32 The Prize - Easy Way Out 14 00:40:47 Mclusky - That Was My Brain On Elves 15 00:42:50 The Speedways - Seen Better Days 16 00:45:48 The Pretty Flowers - Agendaless 17 00:50:06 Delivery- Baader Meinhoff 18 00;53:50 Sparklehorse - It Will Never Stop 19 00:56:42 Half Man Half Biscuit - The Trumpton Riots Read the full article
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Meditation on The Brain & Dealing with Change
You know what it’s like when you discover someone you think is cute drives a Jeep and suddenly everywhere you look you see Jeeps? I’m feeling a bit of that at the moment when it comes to life changes like the one I’m going through with my semi-retirement. By the way, this seeing the same thing everywhere is called the “Baader-Meinhof phenomenon” or the “frequency illusion,” and I’m seeing…
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#art of possibility#career choices#choice#dealing with change#Hidden Brain#life choices#meditation mondays#Monday Meditation#npr#retirement#The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel
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I'm very new to Tumblr, and I'm enjoying the sort of collaborative way people do posts here sometimes—the tags and comments and reblogs and even self-reblogs. It makes sense that "web weaving" (which makes my lit major brain, and my obsession with finding connections, so happy, like, have I discovered "my" people?) as a form evolved in this environment. Anyway, in the way of Baader-Meinhoff this essay examining it appeared in my email inbox yesterday! Weird.
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This is called the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon and it's my favorite phenomenon! Our brains are basically very very good at Noticing New Things, so when you learn a new word, you suddenly notice it all the time, even though the frequency people use it at doesn't actually change.
I have various reasons to believe that I am on The Truman Show, but my most compelling evidence is that when I learn a new word, it starts popping out everywhere for the next 2 weeks or so
Even appearing where it wouldn't make much sense, like a very niche word that has a more modern substitute, but for some fucking reason they chose to use THAT WORD. It's like there's a lexical spawner everywhere I go, like there's a ghost who's very found of thesauruses and can change signs at will
My current theory is that one of the unpaid interns, probably called Kevin, who was stoned out of his mind one day during a shift and had a brilliant idea. He jumped up his chair and announced: "We should give this guy word schizophrenia"
And yes, he received a raise after that
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Hello! It's me again, the one from the last ask who ran out of positive adjectives to describe your masterpieces.
I have since then devoured and thoroughly enjoyed your notes on the ncta, and I'm so excited about all of that wonderful worldbuilding!
I also found your introduction, and I didn't know you're autistic! I am, too. I am also very shy, and in my case that has severely limited my life experience.
That made me kind of self-conscious about my writing — thoughts like "if I can't read people well, how can I write them?" or "would this thought process even make sense to anyone else?"
Would you say absorbing those things from movies and written work is enough? Additionally, how can I have my hyperfixations work for my writing not against it?
I'm so sorry for rambling, I hope you have a nice day! 🌷🤍
first and foremost thank you so much you really are such a good soul to come in with all of the adjectives i really feel like crying right now at how kind and real that is when I feel so undeserving of them.
thank you thank you thank you over and over again (and also sorry if i include both asks in one i want to make sure i answer you well and don't miss anything) but also apologies for not being able to make this brief
not to be narcissistic but i'm really grateful you read my lore and notes. it's one of the few things that i go back to ground myself knowing that i don't always have the energy to write but getting it out there has been meaningful. i wrote my fic over 8 months so i had a lot of time to think about things and edit and go back to ideas but the gist is i'm not a super good writer with a lot of references, i just let things carry me when i'm lucky enough to find them and pick and edit when i can.
not sure if you are familiar with the baader-meinhof phenomenon but there were a lot of weird moments writing out that first draft where i was wondering if the universe might be smiling on my absolutely weird delusional self-insert fantasy. knowing people have enjoyed reading it has been helpful, so again thank you so much
i'm going to answer your questions as honestly as i can as someone who realized they were autistic after i turned 30-something and am still struggling with my own internal questions about what that means, as well as how i approach the rest of my life. like i knew when i was a kid but they didn't really have the language for it then for afab persons, they just put you in special classes and testing and thought it was funny you could memorize full books you read. for a long time i desperately wanted to be "normal" and there might still be a space in my heart that does regardless of how angry it makes me to think it's necessary
so, that said, i was able to have a lot of life experiences. pretending to be normal, and sometimes not. but it felt like, and still feels like, they were at a great cost.
one of the pivotal experiences for me back in 201x when i reached my burnout mode as an afab adult was learning from other f-presenting asd persons about how socialization constructs our experiences. we learn how to wear masks and we learn how to read people and we learn how to say things separate from our own, personal sense of self. i really thought that was the way the world worked for a long time and was maybe lucky enough or maybe cursed enough to be called out on it multiple times as an adult. it made me more cognizant of the fact that when other people are present, my only desire is to disappear
this kind of mentality is also pretty common from people who have been through abuse and trauma (which unfortunately i have also been through) but when you're a self-actualized adult as a child/teen because your brain is working more than people expect it to, it's normal to feel lost. and it does get worse when you try to be "normal".
im luckily older so i don't feel compelled to fit in and have made friends with a lot of other neurodivergent individuals. but what ive also found though is what is "normal" doesn't really exist and questioning it is really more of a gift than anything. it's why a lot of autistic individuals don't feel bound by concretization of gender or sexuality or societal constructs in general, or feel bound to them from some ethical or moral framework that doesn't actually exist. so when i think about the correct way to apply what ive observed i dont always feel bound to it, i guess?
that's how i write, and how i will imagine people is sort of existing outside of those boxes
i think i may have already answered your question in terms of "how can my hyperfixations work for my writing not against it?" but just to belabor the point a little more
fiction exists as a liminal space where we can experience things without being personally affected by them. and if you have difficulty, like i do, reacting to anything as it happens when you do find the courage to participate, oftentimes you will find yourself in a place where a performance makes the most sense.
ive always really enjoyed theater and media for that reason as well as transformative writing because it does have a level of self-actualization. i honestly think imitation is the highest form of flattery as well so that’s why i pull a lot of other work in but on an introspective level i think it makes sense why i hyperfixated on kpop for the last few years because it's the unreality that makes it special.
when you know what it takes to be something you are not, you understand that there is a person underneath--acting or writing or performing--that you cannot and do not need to involve, and you are free to take the skin off of it or a surface level reading and make it your own. but it’s also something to relate to and even if i don’t always have the words to describe how i feel i think those emotions are still there and can be invoked by studying the way others present them
and not to be too forward with my advice but the best i've received in the past for writing is to be authentic to yourself without fear of judgment. because even if you believe you don't have an audience, there are always people out there who will have a similar experience. don't be afraid to idealize situations you have not been in and walk yourself through with a hand held internally through it. no one is going to give you a quiz or a test at the end, they'll just be grateful you helped them through it, too if you share it with them
i legitimately am rambling now but it's so nice to meet you and i hope i gave you a little bit of courage to continue creating, as you do me
bless, and thank you
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