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cacoetheswriting · 11 months ago

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celebrity skin. (part eight)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 5.2k summary: a reconciliation in New York leads to a rediscovery of not-so-hidden feelings and answers to previously avoided questions — plus more.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / comfort, use of pet names, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of blackmail, & kinda rough smut (unprotected p in v sex) — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

& psa: images used in the header don’t depict readers physical attributes! these are also described vaguely in the story, only that she’s a little shorter than eddie.

celebrity skin. masterlist

One thing Eddie had been absolutely sure of: Stevie Nicks was right.

The trip to New York City was carried out solely on a whim. A gut feeling that the brunette rockstar could not quite shake. He had to see you, despite the possible consequences, and Eddie was smart enough to know there would be a lot. He acted like an ass and whether you would admit it or not, he knew he broke your heart.

Ever since his rise to fame, the Corroded Coffin frontman felt this bubble around him. A bubble created by his team, his band, his past, and his own disruptive behaviour — don’t do drugs was a warning he witnessed (and ignored) many times on posters too colourful for the subject matter, plastered on the walls of Hawkins High. Seemingly, the bubble protected Eddie from predators. Leeches that wanted to take advantage of his fame. Unfortunately, the bubble also shielded him from love.

Love.

If the rockstar wasn’t so afraid of the feeling as a result of that bubble, perhaps he would have made different choices in all of his past relationships. Most importantly, perhaps Eddie would have made different choices in the one relationship that’s meant more to him than any other. If he wasn’t so afraid of love, and being in love, perhaps he would’ve fought to be with you a little harder.

And love is definitely how Eddie would describe what he felt towards you. Correction. Feels towards you to this very day. Maybe more, if that was possible considering he hasn’t seen you in months.

So yes, Stevie Nicks was right. The concept of Silver Springs was right.

Seeing you again only affirmed that belief. Talking to you again, witnessing your smile for the first time in months… Well, Eddie never wanted to be apart from you for longer than he already had been. Unfortunately, that wasn’t up to him. Not for as long as your grandmother had her claw all up in your business and stuck her nose where it did not belong.

“So, what happens now?” The rockstar asks, only slightly afraid of the answer.

You hum under your breath, taking a moment to think, gathering your own thoughts. The sun is slowly rising in the distance, so the first response that comes to mind is that you should go home, and Eddie should go back to his hotel, Max’s place, or wherever the hell he’s been staying, before this place starts crawling with people. That would mean saying goodbye for lord knows how long and you were just starting to get comfortable with being around the rockstar again, although, not like that was insanely hard. Whatever. Simply, you didn’t want to say goodbye.

“We could go get breakfast,” you finally say.

Eddie smirks. “As much as like that idea, sweetheart, I didn’t really mean now in the full sense of the word.”

You laugh softly.

“Okay, hotshot.” Turning your head back to look at Eddie, you raise a brow. “What do you think should happen?”

The rockstar smacks his lips together before resting his elbow on one of his knees and bringing his thumb to his mouth. A nervous tick.

“Putting whatever reason I came here for aside, starting over seems like a bad idea since we’ve done that once before and it didn’t really end the way either of us hoped,” he says after a beat of silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Yeah,” you exhale, “Bad idea. Plus you said so yourself, you’re not the relationship type. Getting back together would be redundant.”

“Right,” Eddie agrees quietly, although he really doesn’t want to.

There’s another moment of silence. Nothing but the sound of morning birds chirping melodically and wind gust hitting the water ahead. In the quiet, there is solace. In the quiet, Eddie doesn't have to answer difficult questions or have conversations neither of you really wants to have. A blissful ignorance of what’s really happening here.

He still loves you. You most likely still love him.

It’s all just terrible timing for two people who are — in his mind, at least — made for eachother, but for one reason or the other, can’t be together. Not in this lifetime. Not with people controlling what they can or cannot do. Not with the whole world watching their every move. It hurt. Hurt that a life you both chose was also the life that’s actively destroying something good.

“We could try being friends?” Eddie offers eventually, looking at you then.

You smile. “Friends. I think I like that.”

Holly is the only person you’re fully comfortable talking to about all of this. She listens, actively nodding along as you spew your thoughts and feelings out loud, until the rambles become too hard to follow. Holly, ever the best friend that she’s always been, places her perfectly manicured hands on your shoulders and gives your body one shake to get you back on track when the story becomes a little too convoluted. And this one is all over the place.

There’s the run in at Saks, the meeting with Max, the plan, the date with Steve, all that leads to Eddie Munson banging on your front door until you let him inside. There’s the emotionally heightened conversation that doesn’t really amount to much. The dinner with your family that opened things up to questions from your nosh sisters and scrutiny from your Nana. Then there was Coney Island.

You pause.

It’s messy, for sure, and your feelings are all over the place as you recount each and every minor detail, which leads you to why you invited her over in the first place: what the fuck do you do about Eddie Munson?

Holly usually gives you advice. Parts of which you want to hear and take on board, parts of which you both know will be ignored. This time however, as you do your best to explain what’s been on your mind — and heart — since the rockstar arrived in New York, this time Holly doesn’t know what to say.

“I don’t know if I should forgive him.”

“Jeff says he’s been, like, super sullen all summer long. Locked in that house of his, or at the studio, working on shit he won’t let the band see.”

“That’s supposed to make it easier for me to do what, exactly? He’s secretive, that’s for sure. Hiding stuff from his band, from his sister, from me…”

You reach for the packet of smokes that Holly brought with her and light one, hand shaking ever so slightly.

“I got virtually nothing from him that night in my apartment. Slightly more under the Wonder Wheel, but still not enough to understand why he did what he did,” you exhale a puff of smoke, “Yet I can’t help but think that despite everything, especially ignoring the weeks I spent in bed because of him, we’re like meant for each other, you know?”

Holly too lights a cigarette. She also doesn’t answer you.

“That’s kinda pathetic, no?”

“I think until you get the entire truth, it won’t matter whether you get back with him or just be his friend, or whatever, ‘cause you’re not going to be fully happy. Not really,” she explains, avoiding your question because there’s close to nothing worse than admitting to your friend that they’ve lost it completely.

“So I should confront him?”

“Jeff says Eddie doesn’t do well with confrontations.”

You groan. Head falling back on the cushioned sofa.

“Maybe I should just fuck him,” you think out loud, “Get all this frustration out and then just move on with my life.”

Holly laughs. “Just don’t let him finish,” she says, “Karma’s a bitch, and whatnot.”

New York City is your favourite place on Earth.

Despite your years of extensive travel to tour your various albums or attend different global award shows, New York, your home, has always been top of the list. Elegant, albeit slightly messy. Organised, although a little rowdy. It’s colourful, but dull. Full of people from every corner of the world, which only added to its pre-existing charm. You didn’t really think it was possible to fall in love with it even more until you’ve started to explore it all over again with none other than Eddie Munson — under a new guise of something called friendship.

The rockstar decided to extend his trip. Currently, there is no return date. Exploring New York became the only thing on his agenda.

The two of you did your best to stay under the radar, away from prying eyes. Although, not like it was necessarily needed as Eddie’s idea of sight seeing involved bar hopping. Old-ish, rather shitty places that have definitely seen better days, but Eddie, he was like a kid in a candy store. With every beer poured and every bowl of peanuts shared, he lit up more and more.

“They remind me of home,” he finally explains, two days into your NYC adventure. “Of Hawkins.”

You smile at him, but don’t say anything.

“What?” Eddie asks when he notices the look, mouth now full after taking another handful of the perhaps hundredth packet of peanuts the two of you have shared over the last few days.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, swirling the gold-ish liquid inside your beer bottle, “I guess it’s just nice that some small part of my home reminds you of your home.”

Eddie returns the fond expression. Friends is good, he thinks at that moment while catching another peanut with his mouth, not ideal, but good.

“There was this bar,” he says, leaning across the table so that he could be a little closer to you, “The Hideout. Our first venue, outside of Gareth’s garage, and the only place in my crappy hometown where I didn’t feel like an outsider.”

“Places like the Hideout, places like this.” Eddie swirls his finger in the air to show he means your current location, “They’ll always have a special place in my heart, I guess. They’re a part of me. Part of Corroded Coffin history.”

He stares at you for a minute. He’d never share this much with a friend, so perhaps this new concept you’ve both found yourselves in is not as good as the rockstar would like to think. “We could try being friends?” — Eddie’s second guessing his suggestion just as fast as he came up with it.

“We should see more of your home,” he finally states, “As much as I love them, I think we’ve seen all the dingy bars New York has to offer, so I’m open to suggestions.”

You bring the beer bottle to your lips and take a slow sip of the now semi-warm liquid, pondering his request.

Where could you take Eddie that would represent your love for New York. The Statue of Liberty seems a little basic, as does Times Square — especially since you’ve both performed there in the past. Rockefeller Centre to see the street performers? The Met, even though both of you will most likely be invited next year to the exhibit. In reality, all of the touristy spots like Central Park, for example, would be a little too crowded for either of you to feel safe and remain unseen.

Then your eyes glisten with an idea.

What’s more homey than a home itself: Cove City Sound Studios.

To any average person, it was just another recording studio found in New York. One of hundreds. To you however, it was heaven on earth.

Located in Glen Cove, New York, Cove City Sound Studios had been home to many artists before you came along. A lot of albums were recorded here. A lot of number one hits — the list of which you were lucky to join more than once.

You always thought the ambiance of this place fueled your creativity. Often said the reason behind your resounding success was because you got the opportunity to record here. Of course Holly, Val, and especially your Nana, corrected you every time those words had left your lips. “You’re the reason behind your success,” your Nana would affirm, “Not some recording studio.”.

But you knew. Felt it deep within your bones. Cove City Sound Studios was magic.

“Damn,” Eddie mutters under his breath, fingers gently running across the various buttons as his doe-eyes dart across the posters on the wall — one of which features your 1985 album cover (a record once hidden under Eddie’s bed back in Hawkins).

“Here I thought the place we recorded Honesty in was impressive,” he admits, “This though, this is another level.”

A smile circles your lips.

“Welcome to my home, Eddie Munson.”

The rockstar dips his head, sort of in a way of a little bow, and smiles so wide it makes your insides flutter. Friends, friends, friends. You repeat inside your mind, same thing Eddie is doing, although neither of you are aware. Friends hiding their true feelings.

“I’m honoured, sweetheart.” Eddie adds, placing a ring-clad hand on his heart.

“As you should be,” you tease and walk past him, pushing open a door into the vocal booth.

The Corroded Coffin frontman follows you with zero to no hesitation. He watches as you slowly circle the small room before standing in front of a microphone, adjusting it to your height.

“I recorded every single one of my songs here apart from Honesty,” you reveal without looking at him. Focusing instead on tightening the metal rod in place. “Hundreds of records that will probably never see the light of day because my label doesn’t think they are good enough.”

Eddie snorts. “As if you could make something that wasn’t deemed good. We wrote shit together, remember? I know how good you are.”

Your lips twist into a timid smile and glance up at him from your lashes. “I appreciate that Eds, but unfortunately the industry doesn’t work that way and you, of all people, should understand.”

“Well, yeah, but doesn’t your grandmother have some sort of special power to get you whatever the fuck you want.”

It’s your turn to snort. “She may be resourceful, but she’s got no control over my management team. Even if she likes to think she does, the only real ability my Nana possesses is tell me what to wear and how to act.”

Eddie nods, taking note of this information. Knowledge he can use to free himself from deceit, blackmail.

Valuable insight into the evil woman that ruined his life since, as you’ve now so beautifully explained, she’s not nearly as formidable as she presented herself to be. A light at the end of the tunnel.

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to it,” you say, breaking Eddie away from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Perhaps that’s why I can’t bring myself to listen to Honesty. Because I didn’t record it here.” Nothing to do with the fact that it’s soiled by the memory of the last morning we saw each other, you think, clearly lying to yourself, and him.

Eddie swallows his breath. A twinge of guilt rushes through him. Actually, more than a twinge. A gush, like a waterfall out of control. He’s sure of it now. The two of you could never be just friends. Not until you knew the whole truth about why he did what he did and now that he knew your grandmother had a weakness in her armour, perhaps offering you the truth is something he could do sooner rather than later.

“Then maybe we should change that,” Eddie offers and proceeds to quickly shuffle out of the room, leaving you alone for a second.

You watch through the glass separating the two spaces as he scans the buttons, hands on his hips, tip of his tongue out to indicate he’s thinking. He looks cute and you fail to conceal a smile, so you opt to hang your head and stare at your shoes because you can’t afford to think he’s any sort of desirable. Just friends.

After taking a moment to familiarise himself with a new system, Eddie finds what he’s looking for and switches it on, before hurrying back to stand next to you.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” you affirm while putting a pair of headphones on.

For the next four minutes and twenty-two seconds, you get lost in the chocolate of Eddie’s eyes as you once again sing the song he wrote about you.

“Honestly, you got me fallin’ to my knees

It’s like ecstasy, this feelin’ inside of me

Let’s call it honesty”

Cove City Sound Studios creates magic. You’ve always believed it and now it’s only been affirmed because the way your voice melts with his — no band, no distractions — is nothing short of perfection.

“You’re a devil in disguise

No, that’s what I want you to be

‘Cause in reality, hon’, you’re a hypnotic dream

An angel for sure

To a non-believer like me

Oh honesty, what have you done to me, honestly”

That’s why the song was a hit in the first place. Now you understand why your management team pushed you to do this collaboration in the first place. Magic. And as Eddie draws the last syllable without breaking eye contact, you’re transported back to the night you met. The night that inspired this song.

The night that started all of this.

His mind wanders to the same moment, same place, same spot. Friendship is a word that no longer makes sense, but the rockstar doesn’t want to ruin anything (again), so he drops the headphones and exits the booth without saying anything.

You follow him with your gaze. A feeling of longing spreads through you faster than you know what to do with it. It’s unfortunately accompanied by fear because you’re not stupid, far from it. Eddie’s hurt you twice before. Going back in only to get burned a third time would be a grave mistake and you know better than to go down that road again. ‘Cause you do know better, right?

Then this morning’s conversation with Holly enters your mind. Your best friend was right. You could never be happy around him if you didn’t know the truth.

“Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Do you think if you didn’t end things when you did, we’d still be together? Or do you think we were doomed regardless?”

He takes a moment to answer. Avoiding looking up through the glass to meet your curious gaze, anxious for an answer.

“I already told you.” His deep voice eventually booms through the speakers. “I’m not the relationship type.”

“Bullshit,” you’re quick to state. It comes out harsher than intended.

“Sweetheart—” He’s shaking his head, still without looking at you.

“No, don’t you fucking dare,” you interrupt, suddenly feeling deflated by this whole situation, defeated in the fight against your feelings towards him. “Like I said before, you don’t get to sweetheart me and give me some bullshit vague answer.”

Eddie’s eyes are now closed. He’s hoping if he shows how he wants no part of this conversation — not right now, not before he gets to speak to your management and then offers you up the truth — that you will let it go. Like you did that night in Coney Island and those last few days too. You seemingly let it go and everything was okay. Fucking friends.

“I gave in too quickly. Into your presence. I missed you so much that when you showed up at my door, it didn’t matter how angry or heartbroken I was. All that mattered was seeing you again and being around you again. But I should’ve stood my ground.”

You’re now standing right in front of the glass window. Arms hanging by your side, nails digging into your palms to pump the adrenaline that’s fueling this fight.

“No matter how many times you tell me that you’re not the relationship type, I won’t believe you. I refuse to believe you because that guy I met in an empty kitchen of a Hidden Hills mansion was looking for something more than a random hook up. He may not have said it, but he proved it with his actions,” you continue your reasonings, “He craved something meaningful. I saw it in the way he smiled every time his eyes met mine, and sensed it in the way he held me close.”

Then you exhale.

“That guy, although hiding behind a mask of an arrogant dickhead, he wanted to be loved and Jesus Christ did I—”

Eddie’s gaze snaps to you then, widening.

“But if I got it all wrong,” you continue after a few seconds, “If I misunderstood that guy and what he really wanted, then all I need is for him to be straight with me,” you conclude, “No bullshit excuses, Eddie. If you simply didn’t like me, if you simply didn’t care, just say that and we can both carry on with our lives as if nothing ever happened.”

The door slams. Eddie stands in front of you in a flash, brown eyes holding onto yours with force. He’s agitated. He runs a hand down his face before reaching for your shoulders, then dropping his arms back by his side just as fast.

“I cared, of course I cared!” He exhales to compose himself before continuing, “I still care.” It’s barely a whisper.

“Then why?”

“I-I… Well, I just…”

His mind is racing to find the right answer. The truth is what you’re after, unfortunately that’s the one thing he can’t give you yet. Not if he wants to continue witnessing your success. Because, at the end of the day, his own fame and fortune is no longer important. He could care less if it burned to the ground. Your fame however, your fortune, that’s not something Eddie’s willing to gamble. So again, until he can speak to your management, get ahead of your grandmother’s scheming, the truth will remain sealed.

At least some part of it.

“There was this girl. Back home.” Eddie begins, voice shaky, “Before you, she was the only girl that ever saw me for who I really was.”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” you say her name.

Eddie nods.

“Yeah, Chrissy,” he repeats the name. It tastes a little foreign on his tongue after all this time. “Seemingly the classic cheerleader type, you know? Blonde, preppy, always fucking smiling. But Chrissy, she uh… she was far from just a cheerleader. Like me, she was a little misunderstood and that’s what initially brought us together.”

“What happened to her?” You ask. “You keep saying ‘was’. Chrissy was, as if she’s no longer—”

“Look, sweetheart,” Eddie interrupts, “I-I don’t really talk about her. I don’t like to. Too many bad memories.”

“Right,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

“Long story short, I cared for her and it didn’t end well, so when my care for you started to surpass that feeling… I just got scared.”

“Then why not tell me about her in the first place?” You query, “We could’ve talked it out. Pumped the brakes on whatever our relationship was starting to become.”

Eddie doesn’t mean to, but he scoffs. “And then what, huh? Just tip-toe around how we’re actually feeling until that builds resentment? Then it just ends anyway, but it hurts a lot more, no?”

He’s running a hand through his wild locks. Frustrated wouldn’t be the right word. Annoyed feels borderline the same. Angry, yes, but not at you. Angry at the world for introducing such a perfect character into his otherwise shitty life because he’d be better off without you. No. You’d be better off without him? Also no. Jesus Christ, he’s fucking confused.

“That’s what you asked. If I didn’t end things, would we still be together. The truth is, sweetheart, I don’t know because I attract bad shit and people get hurt and… And I need you to be happy, with or without me.”

Silence falls upon the two of you. It’s heavy with the half-truths that were just revealed. Heavy with the underlying tones that are telling you Eddie still cares, and telling him that so do you — more than either of you were willing to admit back then, and even less now.

And there’s definitely feelings there. They bubbled up the second you laid your eyes on him again and as your few days together passed without a major blowout, they only grew stronger — something you explained to Holly, who said that Eddie was so unlike you, it only made sense to feel something towards him. Love him, even.

Perhaps the hurt was worth it.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What?” Eddie’s brows string together as you momentarily glance at your feet before settling your gaze back on the rockstar.

“Guess we were never supposed to do this right.”

“What?” Eddie asks again.

“You said that to me. Back in LA after that picture of us was leaked to the press, remember?”

“Vaguely,” he answers.

“What if you were right?” You ask, tone a little quieter than seconds prior.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I’m not sure I’m following.”

Decided on your next move, in what you want to happen, you take a step towards the Corroded Coffin frontman so that the tips of your heels are touching his loosely tied Converse. You then place a hand on his chest, albeit hesitantly, and Eddie inhales a sharp breath (loud enough for you to hear).

“What if all of this, everything that happened between us, is because we were never meant to do this right in the first place, Eds?”

A timid smile circles your lips as the question you asked settles in the air. Loaded full of uncertainty for the future and everything that time ahead holds for the two of you. Your Nana would say that a person of your stature shouldn’t give into uncertainty, something that in Eddie’s case was often repeated by Marianne. Everything is always meticulously planned. No room for error because uncertainty leads to mistakes and those are a nightmare for your respective PR teams. Unfortunately for those teams, uncertainty is what drew you to each other in the first place.

That, and insane fucking attraction.

“I did come here because I regret my decision,” he says while you say, “I miss you.” Both come out at the same time. Mumbled, jumbled together. It registers though.

Without giving it a second thought, Eddie dips his head lower while his hands reach for your face, ring-clad fingers now holding your cheeks. In that same breath, his lips crash against yours in a yearning kiss — one that is fuelled by months of pent up tension and a desire you both shared since your first meeting back in August of ‘92.

It's a dance of fire. One that is burning bigger and brighter with every second his mouth is attached to yours. Dangerous, would be a good word to describe this moment, but the line has been crossed yet again and since there’s definitely no going back now, your fingers tangle themselves in his brown locks as you push your body closer. Eddie also gets braver. He bites down on your bottom lip and when you gasp ever so softly, the rockstar slides his tongue in with ease.

You feel elated. This is exactly what you’ve been missing and by the way Eddie’s tongue twirls within your mouth, hands squishing your face, afraid to let go, you know it’s what he’s been missing too.

It’s destructive, for sure. But the hurt is worth it. You know that now. You feel it. Every single fibre of your being grows more and more alive as Eddie presses into you further, as he caresses your skin with so much tenderness. And you’re beyond cloud nine. Beyond touching heaven. It’s destructive, but it’s bliss.

“If we keep kissing like this,” he whispers against your lips, forehead pressing against yours, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to contain myself.”

“Who says you have to?”

Eddie groans against your jawline before continuing to trail soft pecks along your skin until he reaches your ear, biting it gently.

“We should probably talk about what this means,” he says, but you just shake your head. “‘Cause friends don’t kiss like that, sweetheart.”

“I don’t care about that now, Eds.” You affirm, sure of what you want. Sure that you don’t ever want to forget him or move on. He is a part of you, forever. “I just want you.”

And with that your lips finds his again.

The kiss is feverish, messy. You’re tugging at each other’s clothes, desperately trying to get them out of the way as fast as possible. In an attempt to be even closer, propelled by an indescribable urge, Eddie shifts your positions so that his back is the one to the room, you’re by the wall, and mere seconds later, your back is pressed firmly against his chest.

His strong hands send shivers through your body as they make their way down until they reach your panties, skirt long disregarded, a garment on the floor. He no longer hesitates about what this means, ripping the material down before his feet are kicking your legs apart. Ring-clad fingers slide along the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh, desperate to feel you. All of you. And as one hand works to unzip his pants, the other works its way to your wet entrance, feeling along your slit.

“Please, please…” The excitement causes you to grow warm and moist in his hand.

He can’t contain himself. Removing his hand in a rapid manner, he pushes his cock inside of your starved pussy. You close your eyes at the contact and Eddie begins to fuck you, hard. Rhythm picks up rapidly and you’re clenching around him in a matter of minutes, lower muscles seizing at the contact they’ve long forgotten, but were now more than pleasantly reminded of.

“God,” he groans, “I fucking missed you.”

The moan that escapes your lips is nothing short of pornographic. It’s a direct response to his words, as well as his actions. He’s pounding into you relentlessly. There’s no time for pleasantries or any sort of softness. This is all about fulfilling a need-based desire and you’re more than willing to comply, high on his voice when he praises “Fuck, baby”, and “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.”

When you feel his hands grip your hips, you moan his name. Loud, pathetic. Undone. The rockstar begins to bounce you against him. Your knees weaken and you fall back onto him, head now resting on his shoulder, losing yourself completely in the moment and the pure ecstasy that you’re feeling. The pleasure is almost too much for you.

“Eddie, I’m so close,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes.

The Corroded Coffin frontman captures your mouth with his. Short, but far from sweet is the kiss. Hungry and devilish. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, drawing just a prick of blood.

“Let go for me, baby.”

When you do, obeying his request, your whole body shivers harshly in his embrace. Eddie keeps going, only his pace has slowed. He’s whispering sweet-nothings into your ear, continuously praising you for being his good girl, and you promise yourself that no matter what happens next, you’re going to be that forever.

The high soon ends and Eddie pushes you forward gently. You then feel the rockstar’s cock leave you, warm cum spurting over your ass without warning. You’re delighting in the feeling of his juices on your skin. He delights in it too, trailing his fingers over your rear until you turn around to face him.

There’s a smile on your face. Devious, yet benevolent.

Yes, Eddie thinks, Stevie Nicks was definitely right. ‘You'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.’ Not like he’d ever want to anyway.

thank you for reading! really appreciate the endless & continuous support!

celebrity skin. masterlist

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