#rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader

[eddiesxangel]

Wildflower Pt.2 | Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!Princess Reader

Summary: After your breakup with Eddie, you got everything you’d ever wanted. The career, the success, the fame, but something was still missing.

Cw: no use of y/n reader is referred by pet names. Eddie x Afab girly girl reader, no descriptions of reader is used other than what they are wearing (we like to keep it inclusive in this house) ANGST mentions mental health struggles, prescription medication, alcohol consumption, mentions of weight loss due to mental health issues, mentions of underage drinking, SMUT soft Dom Eddie, daddy kink? FLUFF so much you might wanna vomit lol, pregnancy 👀

WC: 22.5k lol

Read part 1 here

Rain, he wanted it comfortable I wanted that pain. He wanted a bride I was making my own name.Chasing that fame. He stayed the same. All of me changed like midnight.

As you stepped off the stage of the last show of your sold-out stadium tour, the adrenaline rush pulsed through your veins. Happy tears threatened to fall down your cheeks. You have been working your ass off these past four years. 

Four Years. 

It has been four years since your career took off and hasn’t stopped—four years since your single went number one for thirty-six weeks straight on Billboard 100. Four years since you last saw Eddie. The way you'd left things haunts you to this day.

The first year after the breakup was the hardest. You were nothing but a shell of yourself; you put on a front with everyone. If you let yourself think about Eddie, you wouldn’t have been able to climb out of the hole you had dug yourself out of. You couldn’t muster up the motivation to do anything for yourself when alone. You worked and went home to sleep, wake up and repeat, like a machine. 

You stopped going to events you didn’t need to be at. You punish yourself by not allowing yourself to have any fun. You felt like you didn’t deserve it.

You had lost a lot of weight that year, unable to keep anything down. Your body was in severe malnutrition, and your doctor was worried. You were prescribed some medication to help stabilize your moods. You blamed it on stress, that the job was the problem, brushing it off like you would get over it eventually, or at least that is what you told yourself. That was your life the year you and Eddie broke up.

Eventually, as the years went on, you found better ways to cope with the loss of Eddie and Violet Rose in your life. Slowly, you started dating again about a year later, but everything was different from what you experienced with Eddie. You didn’t have that spark you felt with Eddie. But was that real? Or was it all built up? 

Seeing Eddie back in the limelight as a single man broke your heart, and seeing him taking out different girls was so painful it made you physically sick. You first saw him out with another woman only two months after you ended things… Did he even really love you? You'd convinced yourself that Eddie must have been caught up with everything that he only thought he was in love with you? And now that you were out of the picture, he realized that it was just lust, nothing more... because how did it only take two months until he was out with another woman? 

The hardest part about this was avoiding him at all the award shows and parties. Your worlds were intertwined, your label was the same, your career had taken off after the breakup, and you were invited to more Hollywood events. It was difficult when you knew he was in the room with you, especially with another girl by his side.

You were still so desperately in love with him after all this time…

It was never the same girl; he was back to his old ways, sleeping around with anyone who got the chance. But luckily, you never ran into him because the second you got word he was there, you were gone, making your last memory of him when he walked out of the door in Italy. You had shattered his heart. Broke it into a million pieces, or so you thought. He told you he was in love with you, and you couldn’t say it back. Year after year, things started to get easier; once the tabloids got bored about the breakup and Eddie was seen with different women, the focus was no longer on you. You had thrown yourself into your songs.

Your songs became #1 hits less than a week after each release. You had been that good, a bit too good. Your work was the only thing you let yourself focus on. Everything had to be great, or all of this would have been for nothing. The more writing you did, the more focused you were on your music and the less time you had to think about Eddie. That was the whole point of the breakup, right? Because you used Eddie only to help your career… 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Life for Eddie Munson over the past four years had been the worst of his entire life, and he once had been addicted to coke. He did not expect his early forties would be so…depressing. When you had ended things with him, he never felt that kind of earth-shattering heartbreak before, not when his second try at passing his senior year didn’t pan out, not when Sarafina left him alone with their baby, and not when his parents abandoned him. 

He was too stubborn to grovel; you had told him that you clearly were just doing this for yourself. He had let his emotions get in the way; it was all his fault. He saw that now. He knew that you loved him back, but he was scorned. He wouldn’t be the one to reach out. The story was out; nothing more could be done. He didn’t have the heart to give up the ring he had bought for you. Night after night, Eddie would sit up and stare at it. He hugged your pillow because your scent lingered in the room until one day, it was gone. 

One morning, a few weeks after the breakup, Eddie was awakened to the sweet smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the house; for a split second, he thought you had returned to him. He ran downstairs looking for you, but reality hit like a brick when he followed the scent to the kitchen to see Vi had ordered Cinnabon to the house. She offered him his share, thinking it would cheer him up, but it had only made Eddie nauseous. He could no longer stomach the sweet smell that reminded him of you.

Longing for you to be by his side, he cried night after night, hating himself for feeling so pathetic and unwanted. That’s how his whole life was; he should have known better. His parents didn’t want him, and the mother of his child didn’t want him, so what would make you any different? 

Your breakup not only affected Eddie’s life but also Violet Rose’s. Scorned by how you never even said goodbye, she was hurt. She begged Eddie to let her talk to you, but Eddie refused to speak your name. Your music no longer brought her joy; only waves of sadness washed over her when she heard you on the radio. She couldn’t escape; you haunted her just as much as you haunted Eddie. 

Violet Rose felt the change in her father when he got back from his vacation in Italy. She was so excited to see him; she missed the both of you profoundly, but when she greeted her dad when he returned, she could sense something was off. When she went to let off her hug, and he didn't, she knew. She could feel how tense he was, how tightly he held onto her. The way he almost let a tear slip and the sniffle he made in her ear gave it away. He hadn't reacted like this when he was away from her for months on tour the year prior. When he finally let go of her, she needn't ask. She knew his eyes were bloodshot and swollen; he wasn't bubbly and didn't hum anymore. She knew her father's heart wasn't the same. 

The older Vi got, the more she resented her father for not ever letting her know who her birth mother was. On top of that, she wasn’t allowed to talk about you. She didn’t understand why because Eddie never explained what happened. All she knew was that before he left for Italy, he had asked her if it would be okay if you were to be in their lives permanently. He showed her the pink diamond ring. The ring that to this day still sits in Eddie’s bedside table drawer. She had found it a few weeks back while trying to find the weed she knew her dad had hidden somewhere when he caught her smoking by the pool. 

That was the last straw for Violet Rose. Violet Rose no longer cared about consequences after seeing the reminder of why their lives had changed so dramatically. You didn’t, so why should she? You made her think that you never cared. How could you be so cruel to just leave her? You were going to be her Mom. She had believed that she was finally going to get a mother; the one thing she craved the most her whole life was ripped out from under her. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Tonight was the night of a new club opening, and Roger ensured you were on the VIP list, not that it took much convincing for you to go. You wanted to get dolled up and have some fun with your girlfriends. You pre-gamed and got ready at your best friend Serena's house tonight. 

Over the last few months, you've been feeling much better, finally getting out of the house for more than just work. You started seeing your friends more than twice a year, attending dinners and events with them. You were also being weaned off of your medication because your Dr. decided that your mind and body were going back to your old self, and you insisted you were feeling better.

"Tonight we are finding you a man!” you announced as you blended the pink blusher onto your cheek. 

"Me? How about you, Ms. Chronically single?" she laughed, sipping her drink that smelled like gasoline. All you could do was roll your eyes. It had become easier thinking about Eddie, but it was still a sore subject you didn't speak of much.

"Oh, don't be like that; it was a million years ago," she giggled. The alcohol Serena was downing played a part in being so bold to bring it up. She had met you two years after the breakup; she didn’t know the whole story but knew it was terrible. Nobody knew the story but your parents and Eddie.

“Fine, tonight I will be reckless and throw all caution to the wind." You took a shot of tequila. The burn was quickly chased by the taste of lime. A loud cheer came from your best friend and twirled you around her bedroom. Laughing, you told her you needed her help picking out an outfit. You both decided on the strappy open-back hot pink silk minidress that made you feel like ten million bucks and your hot pink Louis Vuitton heels that matched the exact colour of the dress. Fitting for a Club named The Red Bottom’s. 

Tonight, you felt like you needed to celebrate, wondering what you were celebrating, maybe because you made it out alive? Becoming yourself again? All the hard work you've put in the past four years? You didn't know... what you did know was tonight you were having fun. 

Walking into the dimly lit club named The Red Bottom’s you could feel the beat of the music pulse through your veins as you watched the different colours light up the dance floor. It was packed already, and it was only midnight. You grabbed your friend's hand and dragged her to the bar. Ordering your shots, you pull out your wallet, but the bartender stops you. "Already covered" He nodded his head over to the other end of the bar, and you both made eye contact with two guys. 

From what you could tell, they were about your age, tall, fit, typical Hollywood, and so not your type. Serena grabbed your hand and pulled you over. You checked your phone to see where the rest of your group was, and they told you they had a booth on the left side of the club. 

"Thanks for the drinks." Serena batted her eyes and smiled as you stood by. They introduced themselves; their names were Patrick and Ray. The more you stood with them, the more antsy you got about wanting to get with the rest of the group. 

"Love the new song, by the way." Your head snaps up from your phone, and you give the guy talking a small smile. "Thanks." Great, just another try-hard trying to get into your pants. Trying hard not to roll your eyes, you look to Serena and let her know you're joining the rest of the group. 

Finally breaking through the sea of people on the dance floor, you made your way to the booth tucked away in the back corner. A slew of cheers filled your ears as you approached your friends. 

Serena returned to the booth five minutes later with the two guys on her tail. 

"You promised me," She whispered, climbing up to you. 

"I did promise you, but I didn't promise it would be with one of these two.” You nodded your head in the men’s direction. Serena gave you an annoyed huff. 

"Ok, look, you know that none of them are even my type; you have all the fun you want! Hell, take them both.” You giggled. “I will still be scouting." With that, she laughed and told you to go have a fun time. As you settled with your drink, she went to the dance floor. 

You didn't take long to rejoin Serena for a dance after you finished your cocktail. Scouting the crowd for a man didn’t take much either; being who you are and being in the hottest new club, it didn’t take long for you to find a guy. Your newfound confidence radiated from you, and you spotted him across the room. The epitome of tall, dark and handsome. If you were to look it up in the dictionary, this man’s picture would be there. His rugged, rough edges had you hooked the moment your eyes met. Biting your lip, you wiggled your finger to get him to come to you. It had been so long since you last danced with someone like this. You were excited, and it felt good. This man towered over you, feeling his body swallow you, and he ground his hips against yours. Serena gave you a wink of approval; all she wanted was for you to have fun and let go. 

It felt like you had been dancing for hours. You needed a break and another drink, so you returned to the booth. As you try to make your way back, not looking like baby Bambi holding on to a tall, dark, and handsome man, you discover his name is Maddox; you accidentally bump into someone. 

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!'" You turn to apologize. 

“Watch where you are going, Bitch” she slurred over the music. 

“Excuse you?” You turn to get a good look at who it is, and you feel your heart in your throat.  You look like you have seen a ghost as all the blood from your face drains. You drop Maddox’s hand and bring it up to your mouth. There she was. Four years since she saw you last. However, you would know that face from anywhere. 

Violet Rose was staring at you. Dumbfounded. Her big brown doe eyes go wide, still precisely like her father’s, at the realization of who you are, and then her face drops into more of a scowl. Looking confused, the much older man standing beside her wraps his arm around her protectively. 

You instinctively grab her hand to pull her away. “Hey, get your hands off of her,” The guy yells over the loud bass. He is definitely your age or older.

“I’ll let you know she is sixteen,” you scowl. The guy's hand shoots up off of Violet, and he practically runs away from the both of you.

“How dare you! How could you do this to us?!” She screamed, finally breaking. 

“I’m trying to protect you!” It was so hard to yell over the music.

“Not him!” She flails her arms in the creep's direction. “To me and Dad!” 

She was causing a scene, and you didn’t know what to do; your emotions took over, and you wrapped your arms around the little girl your heart yearned for. 

“I am so sorry, baby. Please forgive me?” You broke, you missed her and her father so much. Even though you weren’t her mother, you were the closest thing she had for a little while. You’re not sure how long you’re hugging her, crying, in the middle of a nightclub when the reality of where you were clicked in.

"What the hell are you even doing in here?! We are leaving!” You were furious; how on earth was she let into a club? When the fuck did she grow up to become a woman? And how was she allowed to leave the house dressed like this? You didn’t even own stilettos that high.

Violet Rose felt all the blood drain from her face. She was in so much trouble. 

“Your father know where you are?” You arched your brows at her.

“Poppy, look, don’t tell my Dad! Please? I’ll go home right now, I swear,” She begged. 

“Absolutely not, get.” You pointed towards the exit and called Tony to bring your car to the front. You didn’t even say goodbye to Serena or Tall, dark and handsome; you just beelined the both of you to the door.  

You stop by the club promoter and bouncers outside as you exit the club. “I don’t know what kind of place you think you are running, but letting in a sixteen-year-old?!” You yell, drawing attention to yourself. Even though it was two in the morning, there were still paps all around, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars entering and exiting The Red Bottoms. The flashing lights were blinding, but you couldn't care less at this moment.

“I'm going to sue this place! I should call the cops for letting in minors! Better yet, I’ll tell her father! Do you know who her father is? Eddie Munson, that’s who!” You shoved your pointer finger into the chest of the club promoter and looked at you blankly.

When you turned, you saw Violet Rose standing there, embarrassed at the commotion you had just made. She looked so small as you walked back over to her; even though she had grown into a beautiful young woman, she was starting to look like her mother. The mother she never got a chance to get to know. You wondered if she knows now that she is older? 

“Get in the car.” You point at your pink G Wagon. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” She hugs her arms around herself.

“Nice try, in.” You were not falling for this act; you had been sixteen once, too. 

“What about your guy?” She asked, deflecting. 

“What guy?” You totally forgot about Tall Dark and Handsome. 

“You were with a guy when I bumped into you and-”

“And called me a bitch?” You finished her sentence. “I don’t know. I met him half an hour ago.” You brushed it off.

“Oh, so you’re not with anyone?” You saw a hint of sparkle in her eye. 

“Violet Rose get. in. the. car.” You are not having this conversation with her right now surrounded by paps.

“Fine.” Violet Rose got into the car. A small part of her was happy to see you again; she just wished they were in different circumstances. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐���💿

Eddie jolted awake in a cold sweat; his heart sank as he glanced at the clock that read 2:47 a.m. He knew something was wrong as he jumped out of bed, not bothering to put on pants, running out of his room in only his underwear and rushed to Violet Roses's room. He opened the door to see that her window was open and she wasn’t there. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit” He had a guttural instinct that VR wasn’t here, but he had to check everywhere. 

He first checked her bathroom to see if she had gotten up. She begged him to stay home with her tonight because she was sick. He was supposed to attend a club opening tonight, but how could he leave his Cupcake? Especially when she gave him the puppy dog eyes? They may not have been getting along recently, but he still was the biggest pushover when it came to her. 

They had a good night, other than the fact that she was sick; it was like old times. They curled up on the couch and watched movies; he made her soup, and they enjoyed one another’s company. Something that hasn’t happened in a long time. It made Eddie realize that it was too long; he had been moping around for too long and needed to change, or he would lose VR forever. 

Eddie frantically ran to every other room of the house, calling out her name when he didn’t find her in the bathroom. He was shaking with panic. 

Eddie went back to his bedroom to check his phone to see if he missed any calls or texts, but not one was from Violet Rose or about her. Where the fuck was she? As he calls her phone repeatedly, he runs outside to see if she is out there. Ring after ring, the phone goes to voicemail. He had reached the end of the driveway behind the gate that was still closed. His heart skipped a beat when he saw two headlights of a bubblegum pink G Wagon pulling up to the gates of his estate. He instinctively knows that gaudy thing has to belong to you.

With a deep breath, Eddie opened the gate. The driver slowly pulled up and got out to open the door. Violet Rose is the first to step out and Eddie feels like he can breathe again. She is home, and she is safe. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, but all that relief washes away the second he sees you step out of the car behind her. 

He can feel the anxiety shooting through his arms to the tips of his fingers. He doesn’t understand what is happening. Was Violet Rose hanging out with you behind his back? Was she trying to get back at him? Why would his baby be with you? And why was his baby dressed like that?! 

“Start talking” is all Eddie manages to get out through his teeth. His hands balled up into fists, trying to regulate his breathing. 

You open your mouth to start to explain what happened, but the sight of Eddie standing there in his boxers, chest heaving, you get too overwhelmed at the sight. There is no denying that your attraction to Eddie is still there. You had been mesmerized by the way he looked; his crow's feet were a bit more defined, he was accepting his silver hairs coming in, his skin was pebbled with goosebumps as it was early spring in the middle of the night, and he was practically naked. He was still just as fit, maybe even more so, fuck he made 44 look good. So you stand there with your mouth agape, gawking at him like a moron, until Violet Rose cuts in.

“Hi, Daddy,” it had come out so meek.

“Don’t hi, Daddy. WHERE WERE YOU?” he belted. His face was beat red. You had never seen or heard Eddie so mad, not even on that dreaded day. 

“I found her at the Red Bottom's,” You cut in, giving some slack for Violet Rose. 

“The Red Bottom's? THE RED BOTTOM'S!” It hits him: the new club downtown that he was supposed to attend tonight for the grand opening but didn’t attend because Vi was “sick�� and needed to take care of her.

“Inside now.” He was seething, pointing towards the house. Things did not look good for VR. You took that as your cue to leave as you saw her sulk off to the house with her head down. Turning back to the car, you think to yourself this was it. This was your only chance to see him again, and you stood there like a brainless zombie, just ogling him.

“I didn’t dismiss you.” You stop mid-stride and turn slowly as his deep voice filters through your ears. 

“Excuse me?” You question, slowly turning back around.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie was still seething.

“What am I doing?” You countered back.

“Violet Rose is sneaking off to be with you behind my back! How long has this been going on!?” He accused. 

“What the fuck are you talking about, Eddie?” Hearing his name leave your lips was like a gut punch.

“This is all your fault!” He accused again.

“Oh, this is my fault?! How is this my fault? You’re lucky I spotted her and dragged her ass home! You don’t even want to know who she was with when I found her! You’re lucky I did because if I hadn’t, she would still be there doing god knows what with who knows what!” You got in his face. How dare he accuse you of bringing harm to her! You love that kid more than life like she is your own. 

“You know what?!” He counters back.

“What?!” You yell.

What Eddie did next was something so unexpected that it caught you off guard.

“Thank you.” He pulled you into a bear hug. “I was so scared; I didn’t know where she was.” He confessed in a whisper because you were right. Who knows what could have happened to his baby? He was so distraught and mad about the past, but you put his family first after all these years. 

“Eddie, I am so sorry. For everything.” You whisper, finally reciprocating the hug by latching your arms around him. He still smelled the same; it brought comfort, wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you never wanted to leave.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.” He shook his head, releasing you. In his fit of rage, he didn’t get to take you in. Fuck. You were more beautiful to him than memories served. 

“No, Eddie. I mean for everything.” You looked down, ashamed that you let things go this far. 

“Oh. I am sorry, too.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. 

“I uh, fuck - I’ll always love you, and uh and Violet. You know that? Right?” You look up at him with glassy eyes, tears threatening to break free. The words he prayed to hear for the past four years finally left your lips. He didn’t know what to think or say. “And I still- shit. I’m sorry you don’t want me- I’m going to go.” You turn, but Eddie catches your forearm to pull you back into him. 

“I let you leave once; don’t for a second think that I am going to let you go again.” 

Not giving it a second thought, Eddie crashed his lips into yours, and everything fell back into place at that moment. The missing puzzle piece had been found and restored back into its space.

“Angel, I am still so in love with you; you’re my entire world. Always have been. Always will be.” He mumbled against your mouth. Eddie could no longer be mad at you; he would not waste another moment on being angry and sad. The last few years of his life were full of it, and he was ready to let that all go because here you are, telling him you love him.

“I’m so sorry, Baby.” You let your tears finally slip past your lashes. 

The closure you had been craving was no longer gnawing at your mind. Eddie loves you and never has stopped long you. You had wasted so much time being sad and lonely. But could it really just be that easy? He would accept you back just like that? So much time has passed, and you are not the same people from four years ago. 

“So what now?” You asked, pulling back. 

“You’re mine.” Eddie pulled you back in to kiss you; he had so much lost time to make up for.

“Eddie, I- what about everything? Do you even trust me? I wouldn’t trust me…” You looked down as the feeling of shame washed over you. You were so stupid for letting him go. 

“Angel, look at me.” He hooked a finger under your chin. No one has called you that name since you left Eddie. Hearing it made your stomach erupt with butterflies. “We will have to work on things, but I am not ever letting you go. I won’t survive if I have to lose you again. Understood?” 

“Yes, Sir.” Your eyes widen as the words slip past your lips. It was instinct to address him that way.

“That's my good girl” He gave a cocky smirk and leaned in to kiss you. He couldn’t get enough; his lifeline had been restored. All of the sadness within him was being plucked away with each brush of your lips.

Sure, you and Eddie had a lot to work on, but Eddie didn’t care.  He had his girl back, his Angel. Things wouldn’t return to normal immediately; he knew that… you knew that. Eddie thought about how he would have to cancel the “date” he had set up for tomorrow as you gave him a last kiss goodbye. Watching you get back into the car was hard, but then he remembered that he had to deal with VR. What the fuck was this night turning into? 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you.” Eddie walked back into the house to see Violet Rose sitting on the staircase.

“Daddy, do you think?” She was hopeful that what she saw through the window could lead to something more. Something that could bring her family back together. 

“Don’t change the subject.” His head was spinning; he didn’t need to discuss his love life with his sixteen-year-old right after she had snuck out of the house. 

“No phone, no TV, no internet, no going out. You go to school, and you come home. That is final.” 

“What?! That’s so unfair. For how long?!” She cried. 

“Until I say so. Phone, now.” He held out his hand, and she reluctantly placed it on his palm. 

“Don’t you dare ever scare me like that again?! Got it! Now apologize.” He commanded.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, but I’m not sorry for sneaking out tonight.” She smirked.

“Excuse you?” Eddie was shocked.

“If I hadn’t gone out tonight, she wouldn’t have brought me home, and you wouldn’t have that stupid smile on your face.” 

“What stupid smile?” Eddie scowled just to prove a point. 

“Nice try, old man, can’t fool me; I saw you walking up the driveway.” Violet Rose laughed as she made her way up the stairs. Maybe her punishment wouldn’t be so bad if her dad was finally happy again. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

The next day, you had been flooded with missed calls from Roger, and the press had a feel day with your little outburst, all of it being caught on TMZ, of course. 

“Sweetheart, what did you do?” You could no longer avoid the sixth call from him. 

“Look, Rog, I had a lot of alcohol, and Violet Rose was there; she is only sixteen. What was I supposed to do?-” 

“Nothing,” Roger cut in.

“Absolutely not. I have morals, Roger.” You could just picture how he was sitting at his desk, pinching his brows because you knew you were giving him a headache. 

“Look, everyone is going to be poking around, thinking you and Munson are back together. Now I know that contract has ended an-” 

“We are back together,” you cut him off. There was a few seconds of silence because he needed to process what you had just said.

“What?” He asked. 

“I said Eddie and I are back together. For real, no contracts, no bullshit.” You couldn’t get the stupid grin off of your face if you had tried. 

“Oh, well, um, wow, this is unexpected; I’m so happy for you!"  

“Really?” Your voice went up an octave.

“Of course, sweetheart, this is excellent news; I have been worried about you; something in you changed, and you tried to cover it up, but I know you… and also will bring up more publicity. Everyone loves it when couples get back together! Look at J-Lo and Affleck; no one could stop talking about them for weeks!” 

“Well, I guess this whole nightclub thing will blow over?” You wince, biting your thumb.

“Should be fine; when are you announcing your relationship? How long has it been?” Roger questioned.

“Oh, um, well, it just happened last night, so let's give it a few weeks and see how things play out…” fuck, this was not supposed to be another publicity stunt. 

“Understandable. I’ll contact you in a few days to see what’s happening, OK? Kisses” 

“Bye Rog” You hung up the phone to see Eddie was calling you.

Eddie asked you to meet up with him today and go on a walk to clear up things. You felt an overwhelming sense of being home when he opened his door. He was still in the same house, and it looked like only a little visually had changed over the years. 

Eddie greeted you with a hug and a kiss that lingered for a while. The familiarity of his lips on yours gave you an overwhelming sense of comfort. He made you feel at home. 

Eddie took your hand and closed the door behind him, ready to go. 

You just walked through the neighbourhood, having it be a gated community; no one would bother the two of you. 

“I can’t believe this is happening.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“Same, but I’m happy that it is.” Eddie brought your hand up to his mouth to kiss the back of your hand.

“I don’t really know where to begin…” you trailed off, looking out at the California skyline. 

“Let’s start off with how have you been?” Eddie genuinely asked.

“Honestly, I’ve been doing much better than I had been over the last few years. I was in an awful place after it all happened. I wanted to talk with you badly but knew you hated me.” You looked down at your shoes, still ashamed about how you left things. 

“I could never hate you, Angel. I was stubborn and so hard-headed that I refused to grovel. But I regret every day that passed that I didn’t try to get you back.” Eddie admitted.

“Really?” You look at him with shock. You had convinced yourself that Eddie was never in love with you that the thought of him being heartbroken escaped your mind. 

“Of course, Angel. Don’t you remember where I was taking you when… uh-”

“When I ran away…. Yeah, I remember. But I convinced myself that it was just... I don't know? lust…” 

“Hmmm,” that caught Eddie off guard. What could he have done to make you think he wasn’t being raw and honest with you? 

Eddie debated whether he should tell you about the ring as you walked in uncomfortable silence. He decided against it; he felt it wouldn’t be right. 

“I never asked how you have been?” You look to Eddie as he is lost in thought. 

“Bad. No sense in lying to you. I’m sure Vi will tell you eventually.” He sighed. 

Your heart dropped at his confession. He seemed to be doing well. He was the hottest bachelor at the moment. 

“I feel like a broken record, but I’m truly sorry, Eddie. I was such a mess after everything, and I thought you hated me, so I couldn’t talk to you, and it got so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. My doctor put me on meds because I literally didn’t want to do anything, and I missed you and Violet Rose so bad! I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. Not to make this about me, but I just wanted to let you know my decision was wrong, and I hated myself daily. And I will try my best to make it up to both of you. I promise I’ll never leave you like that ever again…. That's if you’ll have me.” 

“Your doctor put you on medication?” He looked at you with concern. 

“Ugh, yeah. I’m slowly coming off of them now; it’s been about two months. I’m feeling a lot better.” You admit

“Jesus Angel. You should have told me! I would have done anything for you, you know that, right?” He said as he pulled you into a hug. 

“I do now,” you whisper. 

“And I’m sorry as well. I should have never yelled at you like that. I felt awful the second I left you standing there alone in that big empty house… I sold it, by the way… I couldn’t go back. The memories were too… sour.” He looked down to his chest. 

“Well, I can’t stomach Italian food anymore… makes me sick even thinking about it.” You admit with a  shudder, trying to lighten the mood.

“And I can’t eat Cinnamon Rolls anymore because of you,” he admits. 

You look at him quizzically.

“Reminded me too much of your perfume… it uh… made me sick whenever I smelled vanilla and cinnamon.” He shrugged

You looked at him with such sorrow. The both of you were so fucked up by what happened. How could you ever work through this? There was so much hurt to overcome.

“Enough about the past. We are on the same page. We have years to make up for.” Eddie brought your lips to him for a gentle kiss. You wanted so badly to deepen the kiss, but you were in the middle of the suburbs, and any stay-at-home mom desperate for gossip could clock the two of you in a second.

Eddie pulled away, and you made your way back to his place. Once you arrived, Eddie invited you inside. 

“So where is the little criminal?” You asked, entering the living room. Memories flood back to when you would have sleepovers and make forts and Disney movie marathons. 

“Present.” She came waltzing through from the kitchen. 

“Hi Vi,” you walk over to her to embrace her in a hug. It shouldn’t have surprised you when she didn’t hug you back. 

“I’m so sorry for how I left things, but I don’t know how much your dad told you?” You look to Eddie and see him shake his head no. “I, uh, I think you are old enough to know some details?” You and Eddie discussed on your way back home that VR also had to be on board for this to work. She had to know the truth. 

“Come sit, Cupcake.” Eddie patted the couch cushion next to him.

You and Eddie then explained how, at first, the entire thing was a sham, but you ended up falling for one another in the end, but things had to break off because of the contract. 

“You’re joking?” That was Violet Rose’s first response. 

“Unfortunately not,” You speak up. 

“That is the most fucked up and stupid thing I think I’ve ever heard.” she rolled her eyes.

“Hey, language. Don’t make me extend your punishment.” Eddie pointed to her.

“I’m sorry, but you’re telling me I am supposed to believe you two broke up because of a piece of paper?” She stares dumbfounded.

“Well, yeah, that’s what happened…” Eddie shifted his gaze to you. 

“And you didn’t think to... I don't know? SNEAK AROUND?!” She flailed her arms in the air.

“Uh… no, actually, that never crossed my mind.” Eddie looked at you, and you shrugged.

“You don’t get it. Cupcake things were not that black and white; it was complicated.” 

“Whatever, can I go to my room now?” She rolled her eyes. 

“Fine, go.” Eddie sighed. 

“Don't worry, she will come around eventually. She was excited last night and started questioning if we would be back together.” Eddie smirked. 

That made you feel better; you would hate for Violet Rose not to see you in the same light as before. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

A month passed, and yours and Eddie’s schedules conflicted. You were recording your new album, and Eddie was busy with the band. Nothing had been coordinated until today, your first official date, and you told Eddie you were planning the whole thing because it was the least you could do for him. 

You drove to Eddie’s house mid-afternoon to pick him up. 

“Absolutely not.” As you pulled up in your baby pink vintage convertible Cadillac, he shook his head. Eddie Munson may be a sim, however, he still has an image to keep up with. He would not be seen being chauffeured in a pink car, especially by his woman. He was old school, and he would be the one driving them.

“What do you mean?” You pout. God, he was such a sucker for that face you pull, but he would stand his ground. 

“I’m driving,” Eddie stated plainly. 

“But I’m the one treating you.” You state. 

“Don’t care. Not going in that gaudy thing.” He crossed his arms. 

You roll your eyes as you unwillingly step out of the car. 

“Don’t think I didn’t see that.” His tone was serious, but his eyes said otherwise as he took your hand and kissed the top of it. 

“Hi, Princess.” He smiled 

“Hi, Baby.” Everything felt right again like nothing had changed. 

“Just tell me where we are going.” Eddie walked around to the passenger side to open the door for you. You ignored his request as you got into his black Bentley Continental. You punched the address into the GPS and were on your way.  

“Le Labo?” Eddie questions when you arrive at the destination. 

“It’s a custom perfumery. Since you said you can’t stomach mine anymore, I called and made an appointment to make one for each other?” You bite your nails in anticipation. Did he hate the idea? Was it too boring? 

“This is not what I was expecting at all, Angel, but this is really cool.” he pulled you into his side as you walked into the building. 

After smelling all the smells and finally deciding on a concoction for one another, your perfumes were complete, and you could take them home. For Eddie’s, you choose notes of nutmeg, white musk, and jasmine. You named his Dungeon Master. Eddie picked a more floral scent for yours with notes of tuberose, jasmine, and tonka bean and called it Angel Wings. He made you wear it as soon as you stepped out of the perfumery.  

The next stop for your date was your house. Eddie had never been to your home. You managed to buy one two years ago and were able to sell your condo. You were happy to have a new space, one with happy memories. 

You managed to snag a bungalow in Bel-Air for just under five million. It needed some updating, so you’ve been slowly making renovations. It was almost done to your liking; you just had to finish up the guest bathroom, and then it would be perfect. 

The whole house was very you. In the kitchen was your favourite part of the home. The cabinets and countertops were white, and the backsplash, appliances, and cookware were all pink. The house was an open concept, which you loved; it was very light and airy with little clutter, but it looked homey. It's very much the exact opposite of Eddie’s interior decor. There were floor-to-ceiling windows all over that let in a lot of natural light. You had a massive sectional in the living room that you often fell asleep on because it was that comfortable. Your favourite part of the house was the living room that opened into the back patio, which led into the pool. Your garden was lush and complete; a giant hedge that acted as a privacy wall surrounded the yard so no one could see in. It was your own little piece of paradise. 

“I didn't know you moved?” Eddie asked, pulling into your driveway. 

“How could you’ve?” Even though the two of you had made up, the wounds were still fresh. You didn’t mean anything by your comment, but you sensed it irked Eddie. 

“I’m sorry-

“Angel, if you apologize one more time,” he gives you a look of warning before stepping out of the car and running over to your side.

 Some things never change. 

“So what is next on the schedule?” Eddie asked as he followed you into your home. 

“Thought I could cook you dinner.” You smile as you lead the both of you into the kitchen. 

You hear Eddie chuckle behind you.

“What?” You turn, arms crossed, to see him examining your space.

“I expected nothing less from you.” He chuckled as he pulled you into him by the waist. 

Eddie leaned down to kiss you. This was the first kiss you shared since reuniting almost four weeks ago. You lean into it as you uncross your arms to wrap them around the back of his neck. The kiss was tentative at first, nothing but a small peck. Eddie tested the waters as he slowly leaned into you, but you needed more. You pressed into Eddie, raising your tiptoes to press yourself fully into him. He got the hint as his strong hands slipped from your jaw and cascaded down past your waist to grip your ass. A moan slipped from your lips as he massaged his hands into you. 

“Fuck, I missed your noises,” Eddie spoke into your mouth. 

“Mmhmm” you hummed.

“I need you, Angel.” Eddie rubbed his hardening length into your lower abdomen.

“What about dinner?” You pant into his open mouth.

“I’ve waited long enough for you; dinner can wait.” Eddie pushed you back into the kitchen counter, and you took no time tugging at the bottom of his shirt, frantically lifting it over his head. You latch your mouth where his neck meets his collar, nipping and biting until you’ve marked your territory. Eddie whimpered as your hand grazed over the tent his hardened bulge created. Never had Eddie whined like this just from your touch. Eddie froze, unsure what was happening; his body had never reacted this way with anyone. 

“Baby, you ok?” You whispered into his ear as your hand moulded around the thick shaft. There was a shift in the air; Eddie was at your mercy. He didn’t even correct you when you didn’t call him Sir. He nodded and swallowed hard. His heart was racing, his muscular chest was heaving up and down as you delicately traced your hands up to the button of his black trousers. 

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me. I-I-” he shakes his head in a daze.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay, baby, I’ll take care of you.” It’s the least you could do for him. You slide down to your knees, cadged between the kitchen cabinets and your boyfriend. You unzip his pants, and he shimmies out of them as fast as he can. Your mouth waters as Eddie's naked frame towers over you. His thick thighs flex as you run the tips of your long red nails over his flesh. You can see the defined muscle of his legs tighten as you get closer to the apex. 

“Tell me what you want baby.” You graze your glossy lips over the underbelly of his shaft up to the silver ball of his piercing that you craved when you were all alone in the middle of the night. 

“You,” he whispers as he cups your cheek with his right hand. 

“What part of me do you want, Eddie?” You look up at him with eyes glazed with lust. 

It’s been so long that you remember the first time you were on your knees for him. The thrill of the memory brings butterflies to your stomach. 

“All of you.” Eddie pants.

“Uh-uh, naughty boy. Don’t get greedy,” you smirk as you slowly run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Your mouth, Angel. Gimme your mouth. Please.” The anticipation broke when your mouth engulfed his long thick cock into your mouth, wholly. 

You tried your best to fit as much of him as you could. Did he get bigger over the past four years? No? That’s not possible? But you felt so full that you're memory failed you as you tried to get him all down your throat. You came back up in a gasp of air. A string of saliva connected your lips to his tip. You stroked your hand up and down the long shaft. Memorizing each vein as you did. You went back down, and that whimper came back. 

Oh, the lovely little whine coming from Edie’s mouth was making your pussy flutter. You were starting to understand why he loved your moans and whimpers. Hearing them only made your arousal pool in your panties. 

“Please, baby, I need you. I need you so bad.” Having Eddie begging for you was also a new experience that unlocked something in your brain. In all aspects of the term, this larger-than-life man at your mercy was turning you on in ways you never thought possible. You didn’t let up; you worked your tongue around his tip, then slid him back down your throat again. 

“FUCK angel, please I don’t think I can last long. I need to fuck you, baby. Please let me fuck you; let me feel that pretty little pussy.” He was begging, and you were thriving. However, the need for him to fill you was becoming greater than the feeling he was giving you when he was begging, so you let up. With a pop, you let his throbbing member out of your mouth. Eddie hiked you up off the floor and started to strip you down as fast as he could. 

“Where do you want me?” he asked as he kissed down your neck. He let a finger trail up your sticky inner thighs. 

“Don’t care,” you shake your head. 

“Bedroom?” He looks over his shoulder down the hall to where he assumes your room is. 

“No time.” You turn so you’re bent over the kitchen countertop. 

“Always so ready for me.” Eddie swiped a single digit up your wet slit. 

“Fuck me, fuck me hard,” you pleaded.

“Yes, ma’am,” you heard the smirk in his voice. 

Eddie tugged your hair as he pulled your head to the side so he could kiss you, it was sloppy and wet, so much tongue, but it didn’t matter when you felt the tip of his cock run up and down your folds. The metal ball of his ring was cool against your hot clit. Your body shivered as it brushed against you before slipping past your entrance. You pushed your body back into Eddie so he could fill you as fast as possible. 

Eddie’s grip on your hair tightened as he yanked your head back so you were arching into him. The leverage he had using your head as a vice to slam into you over and over. His other hand explored your chest, harshly gripping your breast. You’re sure his fingertips will be scorched into your skin forever.

“Fuck I missed this pussy” he growled into your ear as his hot breath cascaded over your skin. The room was full of the wet sound of Eddie pounding into you. His harsh thrusts didn’t slow as he fucked himself into you. He pulled out entirely, and you cried at the loss of him.

“Just needed to taste you.” You felt his hands spread apart your cheeks. His warm tongue replaced his cock, travelling its way from one hole to the other. A feral moan left your lungs, and before you knew it, he was back hovering over you, guiding his cock back where it belonged.

“Nobody compares to you” his praises didn't match his movement; if you hadn’t known any better, you swore he was hate fucking you right now… and maybe he was? He had years of pent-up feelings about you. 

“This is my pussy understand? It belongs to me and only me,” his grip finally left your hair as his hand slid down to your throbbing clit.

“Yes, Sir.” You cried as his fingertips made contact.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I’m yours, baby. I am yours,” you spoke after each thrust up into you.

“Fuck I love you so much; tell me you love me. I need to hear it.” Eddie’s thrusts hadn’t let up; you were a bit shocked by the stamina; even your legs were about to give out.

“I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.” You chanted like a mantra. The feeling in your lower stomach was forming. Eddie kissed down the side of your neck; the butterflies were starting with each circle of his fingers, each harsh bite and nip at your neck, each thrust hitting you so deep, the spot you’d been so desperate to get to but no matter how many times you tried on your own you just couldn’t. 

“I’m cumming!” Your body trembled, your pussy clenched down so hard you knew your body would soar in a few minutes.

“Shit, I’m close. Tell me how much you want me.” He spoke through his teeth.

“Please, Sir! Fill me, I want you so bad,” you cry.

“You want this cum baby? Do you want me to pump my load into you? That it? You want me to make you mine?” Eddie growled.

“Yes!” You nod.

After only a few more thrusts, Eddie came not long after you, pumping his load into you further and further until he slipped out of you. You collapse your body onto your kitchen counter as Eddie hangs his body weight over you, caging you in. 

“Baby, you ok?” You feel Eddie wrap his arms around your middle. 

“Yeah, just need to feel you.” He mumbled into the side of your neck. You could feel the warm cum dripping down your trembling legs. The realization hit you that you didn’t use protection. Your body stiffened, and Eddie caught on, “What’s wrong, baby?” He got up so you could turn to face him. You kissed him, not wanting to ruin the moment. He deserved one good day with you, and would a baby so bad? Having his baby. No, you dreamed of having his baby all the years ago. 

Eddie deepened the kiss, and your thoughts dispersed; Eddie was the only thing clouding your brain. He picked you up, latching your legs around his waist. 

“You going to show me your bedroom now, little lady?” He kissed down the other side of your neck, mirroring the marks he had left on the other side. 

“Down the hall, second door on the left.” Eddie was already walking before you finished taking it. He entered your room and threw you on the bed to climb onto you.

“Really, you’re ready for round two?” Your question, even you still need some recovery time, 

“You wound me, princess.” He drops his head as his large tattooed hand covers his heart. You then notice when he moved his hand that below where Violet Rose's name was etched into his skin over his heart was a tattoo you hadn’t seen before. A small pair of blacked-out angel wings with a halo hovering above. 

Your hand shot up to trace over the ink in his skin. 

“Eddie.” You whispered. 

Eddie looked down to see what made your eyes glaze over. The realization that you hadn’t seen it yet hit him hard. He wasn’t sure why he acted on impulse that day, but something in him told him he had to keep you close to his heart, that he couldn’t let you go. So he got this tattoo dedicated to you a year after the breakup.

He cleared his throat; he was a little embarrassed by how desperate he was for you. How desperate he still is for you.

“Look, I-” You didn’t let him finish because you pulled him down into you by the back of his neck to kiss him. To really kiss him, a kiss to show him that you love him, that you always loved him, that you were sorry for ever hurting him. 

“I love you,” you mumbled into his mouth. A shit-eating grin formed on Eddie’s face. He couldn’t get enough of you saying those words, and now you said it first, unprovoked. He slid down your body. 

“Hey, where are you going?” You whined at the loss of his warm body hovering over you. 

“I don’t get to worship my girl properly.” He parted your sticky legs.

“Eddie, you just came. You sure you want to?” You questioned, clamping your legs together. 

“When has that ever stopped me before?” he pried open your knees. Not wasting another second, he was lapping at your clit, sending you into a cloudy euphoria.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

“Come home with me?” Eddie asked the following day. You’d been intertwined with one another all night, not leaving one another for a moment. Not even when you got up to go to the bathroom. You didn’t want to waste another second apart. You never thought you would be this happy again; the ecstasy flowing through you was giving you a high. 

“I want you to meet Wayne.” he snuggled his head into the crook of your neck. 

“I would love to,” you sighed.

“Good, we are going back in two weeks; Violet hasn’t seen her Pops in too long.” He smiled.

“You never told me much about him before?” You shifted in the sheets to face him. 

You absentmindedly reached over to play with his hair. 

“Not much to say,” he shrugged.

You gave him a pointed look that told him he wasn’t getting out of this conversation.

“Fine,” he chuckled. “He is a stubborn old grump who took me in when he didn’t need to. He really is a softy on the inside, especially when it comes to his granddaughter.” He sighed. 

“Sounds like he is a really good guy,” you smile.

“He is, won’t admit it though, he is a very humble man, and it took years in order to convince him to live in the house I got him instead of the trailer I grew up in. I literally had to have it moved into the backyard with the house to convince him to leave that place.” He laughed. 

You needed to meet the man who raised Eddie to thank him for doing such a good job. It meant so much to you that he would want you to meet him, especially after everything that happened. 

“I can’t wait to meet him.” You kiss him gently.

“Good because I already told him you are coming. Gotta show off my girl to everyone. 

Eddie’s words made your heart flutter. You still couldn’t believe this was happening and that he didn’t hate you. 

The following two weeks had flown by. Trying to convince Violet Rose that you are staying for good was much more complex than you thought. She was very standoffish and didn’t give you much to work with. When you spoke to her, she would give grunts and one-word answers if you were lucky. Being a teenage girl means approaching with a topic of interest, and with VR growing up so much since you’ve seen her, it’s been hard to wiggle your way back in.

School was not a discussion topic; partying was also a sore subject because she was still grounded, so on your flight back to Indiana, you tried again. She gave you the cold shoulder, still not forgiving you. Not understanding at all why you had left. You were starting to question why you left things as you did. It didn’t make sense in retrospect. She was right, you could have snuck around, you could have “broken up” and gotten back together weeks later. But in the moment, everything was too much; you were overwhelmed by everything you weren’t thinking about. Now, as a thirty-year-old, you have learned so much. You were not ready for many things that came your way but you got through them; and on your own. Giving yourself room to grow and become your best was probably the best thing that came out of this situation. 

“Hey, old man,” Eddie yelled into the empty foyer of Wayne’s quaint bungalow. 

Violet Rose pushed past the both of you and walked into what you believed to be her bedroom just off the front door. 

“Finally, I’ve been waitin’ round for ages! Can’t that dang plan of yours go any faster?” Wayne rounded the corner as he entered the long hallway. He embraced Eddie in a thigh hug, snaking his back a few times before letting go.

“Angel, this is Wayne” he smiled brightly

“Pops, this is my Angel.” You smile at Wayne before he opens his arms for a hug hello. 

Wayne knew of you from the past. Mainly when he spoke with his granddaughter. She spoke so highly of you all those years ago.

“I’m so happy to finally meet you.” You squeezed your arms around the elderly man. 

“Pleasure’s all my darlin'.” he pulled back to get a good look at you, then looked around. “Where’s my Grandbaby?” 

Eddie chuckled and then pointed towards the door. “Don’t think she could get away that easy?” Wayne smirked. 

Violet must have heard the conversation because she stepped out of the room and was changed into her sweats and an old Corroded Coffin shirt.

“Hey, Gramps.” She smiled slightly and leaned into him for a hug.

“Hey baby girl, you get taller? Damn, I haven’t seen you in so long” he brushed her curly locks down as he patted her head.

“Probably, but I think I’m done now,” she giggled. It was the first time you had seen her in a good mood. 

“Well, let’s quit standing in the hallway; come in!” He waves the three of you into his home.

Wayne cooked a delicious dinner, and then Eddie showed you around the only trailer that sat in the backyard. He wasn’t kidding when he said Wayne wouldn’t move unless it went with him.

Eddie showed you around his old bedroom; he said it was like stepping into a time machine. Everything had been left as it was when he left at 21. 

You teased him when you found an old Playboy that was very well-used. His cheeks flared up as you flipped through the dusty pages. He told you there used to be a display of mugs, the same one that was now inside the house, and a bunch of trucker hats that also used to be a staple, but now we’re probably in his bedroom collecting dust there. 

When you went back inside, you saw Wayne and VR huddled around the pool playing a game of Snooker. It was nice to see Violet Rose enjoying her time around you rather than sulking like a moody teenager. 

Eddie announced that both of you would join in the next round, and Violet rolled her eyes so much for progress. 

The rest of the night was relatively peaceful. Only one more snarky remark from Violet Rose got a stern response from her Pops, telling her off for talking back to her elders. 

“Don’t you teach this girl any manners? Did I not raise you to respect people?” Wayne grumbled. 

“You try raising a teenage girl, then come back to me; maybe I’ll leave her here for the summer,” Eddie smirked, which got a rise out of Violet. 

“I love you, Gramps, but I would rather die than live in Hawkins,” she winced. 

“Don’t blame ya, Sweet-pea, but I think all that Hollywood California L. A bullshit, pardon my French, has gotten to that head of yours ” he shook his head. 

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh; it was so infectious you tried to hold in your giggles. 

“You guys are the worst! Just try and be a teenager now!” She dropped her pool cue and stormed off to her room. 

You looked at Eddie and gave a sympathetic smile; if anyone knew what she was going through in this room, it would be you. You went after her to see if she would open up to you. 

You tentatively knocked on the door three times before she told you to go away.

"Vi, can I please come in?" you speak through the door.

"No," you could hear her eyes roll. 

"Come on, Vi, who do you want to talk to you? Me a girl who has been in your position or your Dad?" you wait silently while she contemplates her options. 

"Fine." You hear her get up and walk to the door. She doesn't say anything when she opens the door. She turns and sulks back to her bed, curling her knees to her chest.

"So..." you start while thinking about what to say next. "Want to tell me what is going on?" you sit at the opposite end of her bed; you don't want to crowd her. 

"Not particularly," She mumbled into her knees. 

“Okay," you drew out with a huff. "How about I list off some things that I think are the issues, and you let me know if I'm close?" 

Violet Rose stared at you blankly, but you took that as a yes. 

"Okay... is it about school?" 

"No" 

"Friends?" 

"No"

"A boy?" 

"Not really" 

Okay that's good you were getting somewhere. 

"Not really? So, a boy problem with you? Or someone else?"

"It's about you and Dad." 

"Of course," you sighed.

"It's not that... it's not that I don't want you together because that is all I ever wanted. But I'm scared you're going to leave again." She was so meek. You hadn't seen Violet Rose, so unsure of herself. You reached out your comforting hand, shocked when she let you leave it resting over hers.

"I am so sorry about how I left things with you. I will never forgive myself for not being there to say goodbye. But I promise I am not planning on leaving this time. Your father and I are nowhere near perfect, but we are working on things. And if we ever plan to not continue things between us, I promise you I will always be a part of your life as long as you want me to be. Okay?" you sighed. 

You waited a few seconds in silence before she responded. "Okay.'' She whispered while giving a meek smile. 

"Was that the only thing bothering you?" you chide.

Violet sat and wondered if she wanted to share her feelings about her crush on her friend, Charlotte. Violet knew she liked both girls and boys for a while now but wasn't ready to divulge. She would rather speak about that to her aunts, Robin and Nancy. She shook her head no and said she would have an early night. 

You bid her a goodnight, and when you closed her door, a triumphant smile spread across your face. Progress has been made; that's all you wanted.

You rounded the corner and caught the end of Eddie and Wayne's conversation.

"Don't let this one go again, boy, or else I'll never forgive ya'." 

"Don't worry, I'm not going to let him this time," You said with the same goofy smile.

"You're in a good mood. I'm assuming things went well?" Eddie pulled you in by the waist to sit beside him on the couch. 

"Yeah, she will be okay. Just needed some reassurance, is all." You curled up next to him. 

Eddie didn't say anything more when he gave a kiss to your temple. 

"Told ya she would be good for you son." Wayne tipped the beer bottle to you. 

"Yea, yea, yea, you are always right," Eddie laughed.

It seemed that you were fitting back into their family just perfectly. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

On your second day in Hawkins, Eddie wanted to take you around town and bring you to meet his old friends. He told you that his buddy Steve was hosting a BBQ and invited all of his old high school friends for the occasion. He said you were going to meet everyone. Steve and his wife and kids, Robin and Nancy, who were married; Nancy’s little brother Mike and his Wife El; Dustin and his wife Suzy and their kids; Lucas and his wife Max and their kids; and Luca’s little sister Erica and her partner. You told him you would try to remember everyone’s names, but you made no promises. 

It was all a bit overwhelming to meet everyone all at once, but you felt like you were welcomed with open arms, regardless of what Eddie had told them about you. 

You’d lost Eddie halfway through the evening. Naturally, the men and women separated into their separate groups.

“So tell me about Eddie when he was in high school.” You smirked into your iced tea glass. Everyone else had been drinking tonight, but your stomach was feeling off, probably due to the nerves of meeting everyone tonight. 

“Oh, he was a TOTAL dork,” Robin giggled. 

“Not much of a jock, I’m assuming?” you asked, giggling with her. 

“No, no, but he was a charming guy,” Nancy spoke. “a bit eccentric.”

“No, very eccentric,” Robin corrected with a laugh. 

“But he was always looking out for his friends, sucking up for others, like my brother Mike” Nancy nodded over to the guys who were surrounding the BBQ. 

Robin was someone you gravitated toward the most; she was funny and spunky, and you totally understood why she fell for Nancy. Nancy was kind, warm and not to mention gorgeous. 

This made you smile to know he always had a genuine heart. 

“Sounds ‘bout right,” you sigh. 

Eddie couldn’t break the smile that spread across his face the second you two walked in the door. He was so smitten and very excited to show you off. He finally found his person; all of his hometown friends had settled down for years, getting married in their 20s and having a normal life in the suburbs. He felt like he was finally able to settle down with you. He had already settled down while raising VR but always missed his partner. 

“How did you manage to swing a girl like that, Eds? She has to be half your age,” Steve asks, nodding his head in your direction. 

“She is thirty,” Eddie corrected him, but he knew Steve was only pulling his leg. 

“He’s a famous rockstar now, remember! Not the same nerd from Hawkins High,” Dustin laughed. 

Eddie gave him a stern look. Sure, they were all grown up, but Eddie still saw them as his little sheep. 

“Com’on, dude! It’s been so long since we busted your balls,” Lucas said, wrapping an arm around Eddie's shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever y’all are just jealous.” Eddie rolled his eyes, smirking before taking a sip of beer. 

“We are happy for you, dude,” Steve smiled. “You seem much better when she is around. You sound alive again.” He flipped a steak on the grill. 

“Well, my fellow brethren, thank you for everything you’ve done for me; I appreciate it.” “You're getting way too sappy for me; I thought I was standing with the men.” Mike laughed.

The evening was ending; the lot of you were all snuggled up by the bonfire in the backyard of the Harrington residents. 

“So… what do you prefer to be called? Your actual name or Angel?” Steve inquired.

“Whatever you prefer, to be honest, I like both.” You smiled.

“Well, I’m calling you Angel,” Robin piped up, “It's cute,” she smiled.

“It’s all Eddie ever refers to you as; I had no idea it was you he was speaking of when he told us he was bringing a lady friend,” Steve smirked. 

“She’s not just a lady friend; she is his girlfriend,” Dustin chimed in with a grin.

“Well, whatever you are, we are happy you’re here; it’s about time someone tied this one down.” Steve tilted his beer bottle up to toast. 

“Thank you for having me; I’m so happy to meet all of you. Eddie has told me wonderful things about all of you.” You smiled, reaching for Eddie’s hand. 

“Awe shucks, bud. Are you getting all mushy on us?” Steve laughs. 

“Zip it, Harrington,” Eddie said, teasingly pointing a finger. 

“What? I’m just saying… The last time we saw you with anyone was Chrissy... and that was twenty years ago!” He clapped. Steve was drunk.  

Your body tenses and tired to laugh, but up at the thought of Eddie with another girl made you feel icky.

“Yeah, well, I haven’t found anyone close to how Angel makes me feel, so I don’t care how long it took her to find me.” Eddie kissed your cheek with a wet smack. 

Steve cringed at how gushy his friend was, but the ladies fawned over it. They were so happy Eddie finally found his person. They had multiple discussions about how they were worried for his well-being when he started partying again. 

“You both are the cutest. How did you rekindle things? Eddie told us you dated in the past. Nancy spoke.

You told them about how you caught VR in the club and dragged her home, and the rest was history. 

The evening wrapped up around midnight. The car ride home was quiet but not uncomfortable.  Eddie held your hand the whole ride home with a slight smile. Your heart was warm; Eddie had really good people in his life. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

"When do yous two plan on hitting the road?" Wayne asked a few days after your arrival. 

"Trying to kick us out, old man? We just got here," Eddie laughed. 

"No, boy, I just gotta know how much food to buy at the store." He huffed. 

"Well, we will stay for four more days and head out on the 7th. 

Wait? Did Eddie just say the 7th was in four days? That can't be right. You open your phone to look at your calendar. Shit. 

You excuse yourself calmly to go to the bathroom.

You lock the door behind you and open your period tracker app. You were six days late. Okay, no need to panic. The last time you had unprotected sex was... almost every night for the past two weeks... You tried to think back; he pulled out nearly every time. But there was the first night you rekindled the flame; he definitely didn't pull out then… okay. Focus. You’re 30 and not getting any younger, your career is at its peak, and you’re with the man you want to be with forever. Growing your and Eddie’s baby inside you made your heart flutter. Maybe a baby wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

You decided to wait a few more days for your period to come just in case it was a fluke. You also didn’t want to take a pregnancy test in Wayne’s house, so you waited until you returned to LA. 

You went out of the bathroom and decided not to tell Eddie anything until you knew for sure. Your mind was racing with all the possibilities. You tried to reel it back in the best you could and engage with the rest of them, but the last few days of the trip have been full of fantasies of a mini-you running around.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

When you got home from Indiana, the first thing you did was have your assistant rush to the drugstore. The last thing you needed was to have you papped buying a pregnancy test before you told Eddie anything. It sat on your bathroom counter, taunting you. You were so scared, so nervous about what could be. 

You waited a few days before building up the courage to face reality because your period still hadn’t made its appearance.  

It was six o’clock in the evening, and you had just gotten home from the studio. You had a productive day; you got about 4 songs finished and recorded for the new album coming out in 3 months. You were feeling good about your progress in the studio, and something in you told you to take the test. 

You tried your best to distract yourself in the fifteen minutes for the test to be complete. The longest fifteen minutes of your life were waiting for the results; the second your phone timer went off, you ran back to the bathroom to check the test that sat on the vanity. 

With shaking hands, you lifted it up to your face to see the very prominent plus sign marking the test positive. With a gasp, you felt your stomach erupt in those oh-so-familiar butterflies. You were happy, so happy, you were having a baby! Tears of joy escaped from your tear ducts. You couldn’t believe the news. How are you going to tell Eddie? Would he want to keep it? Would he stay with you? It was so soon; less than two months passed since you had gotten back together. How was VR going to react?! Oh god, you were just getting back in her good graces, this could screw up everything.

The next day, you got an appointment with your doctor; thankfully, they had an opening. They did the blood test, and a day later, they called you to confirm the news that you had been about 3 weeks along. 

You let out the breath you had been holding when you picked up the phone. 

You thanked them and hung up with a shaky hand. The first thing you did was sit and think about your future. You wanted to keep this baby no matter what Eddie's decision will be. You hadn’t booked a tour for this album release yet. You had a meeting with your team next month about it, but would let them know that it would have to be put on hold for now. You hugged your stomach as you thought about how you had not only yourself to think about. You were excited yet terrified all at the same time. 

You were off in your own little baby world the next few days. You had called your mom to tell her because you could no longer keep the secret to yourself.  She was so ecstatic, she cried happy tears, and she called your dad on the phone. She soothed your worries about having to tell Eddie. She reassured you that even if he didn’t want to be a part of the baby's life, she would be there for you, but she also reminded you how he raised a baby all on his own because he could never give up a child. That settled your nerves a bit, but you were still scared out of your wits. 

You spent the afternoon talking to her, brainstorming ways of how you would tell Eddie. Your mom and you thought it would be cute to give him a custom onesie that said “Corroded Coffins smallest fan.” You go on ordering that immediately; you don’t want to keep the secret any longer. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You were in Eddie’s bedroom getting unready after your dinner date; you hadn’t been feeling the best because of the baby. The nausea had been coming in waves, and Eddie knew you were not feeling the best. Oblivious to what was happening, you told him it was the stress of getting the album done. 

Eddie told you he picked up some ginger tablets because he knew Gravol made you too sleepy. 

“Baby, where are the tablets you bought? My stomach needs to settle,” you asked as you removed your earrings. 

“Uh, check the night stand,” he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the walk-in closet. 

You made your way over to his side of the bed and found nothing but an old copy of Lord of the Rings, a vibrator, and the box of condoms you were supposed to be using; bit too late for that now… 

You then walked to the bedside table on your side of the bed. That made more sense; he would put it on your side for you. 

You opened the drawer, and your heart felt like it stopped.

“What is this?” Your voice cracked.

“What’s what, Sugar?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Your hands trembled as you picked up the small velvet box sitting there wide open for you to see. A diamond ring. It was not just any diamond ring but a pink 4-karat cushion cut with white diamond clusters on the side, staring you in the face. It was beautiful. 

This man could not be serious? This is not how he was proposing to you? 

You felt like you were moving in slow motion as you turned toward Eddie. Tears were threatening to rim your eyes; man, being pregnant really does heighten your hormones. 

Eddie was in the walk-in closet undressing for the evening, and when you didn’t respond to his question, he was confused, so he poked his head out while pulling on his black sweatpants.

To Eddie’s surprise, you held the one thing that had taunted him over the past four years. He had forgotten about it since you came back into his life. How could he be so stupid? Of course, you found it! 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” Eddie ran over to you in a panic. He tried to swipe it from you, but you pulled your hand away. 

“Answer me, Eddie, what is this?” 

“A ring,” Eddie answered matter of factly. 

“I know it's a ring, Eddie, don’t play with me right now. What is this?” You tried to keep your voice from cracking again. 

With a deep sigh, Eddie folded an arm over his chest and pinched his brow before letting his head fall back, trying to think of a way to explain. 

“It’s an engagement ring, Princess.” He reached out to your free hand. You let him. “You weren’t supposed to find it.” He sighed. 

“I wasn’t supposed to find the engagement ring left wide open on my side of the bed?” You cocked your head. He had to be joking? So this isn’t how he was proposing? 

“God no, Angel! You think this is how I wanted to propose to you?” He shook his head with disbelief.

“Then why is it sitting in there out in the open for me to find!” You didn’t know what to think; was this even meant for you? Are you jumping to conclusions? “Oh my god, it’s not for me, is it? Fuck I’m so stupid” You shoved the box into Eddie’s hands and ran into the ensuite bathroom. 

“Angel, wait!” Eddie called out to you but your emotions were sighted by one thousand, and you shut the door in his face before he could follow you. 

“Baby, please let me in; I’ll explain everything. Just let me see my pretty girl.” Eddie cooed through the black wooden door. 

You stood there for a moment, unsuccessfully holding back your tears. You didn’t feel pretty, your mascara was running, your stomach was still doing flip-flops, and you looked boated. 

“No,” you refused. 

“Come on now, sweetheart, don’t be like this. I’ll tell you everything.” Eddie watched the doorknob like he was trying to unlock it with his mind. To his surprise, it twisted. You stepped out, walking right past him no less, as you crawled into bed and pulled the duvet over your head. 

Eddie rolled his eyes at your dramatics. You really could be such a brat, but he knew better than to poke the bear right now. 

“Come out from under there, please, so I can talk to you?” Eddie stroked your arm from above the blanket. He didn’t get a worded response, just a muffled grumble. 

“Let me talk to you, pretty girl, don’t act like a child.  Another muffled, grumbled response was made, and he could have sworn you said something about acting however you want because you’re having his child, but it was so muffled he swore that he was just hearing things. 

Eddie tried again, then realized you were not coming up, so he would have to go in. You tried pulling the covers closer to you, but his grip was much stronger than yours. He snuggled in the bed, but you turned to face the other way. 

Eddie could not believe your behaviour right now. 

“Don’t make me take you over my knee, little one,” he seductively whispered in your ear. 

He could not be serious right now? 

“Eddie, don’t,” you huffed. 

“Then quit being a brat and let me talk to you.” he pulled you into him so he was spooning you. 

“You tried to wiggle away, but his strong arm held you in place. You decided to give up and let him talk. The sooner he spoke, the sooner you could escape this stifling heat trap you had created for yourself. 

“What do you want to know?” He kissed your shoulder as one hand trailed lightly up and down the side of your thigh.

“Everything.” You whispered with a light sniffle. 

“Yes, the ring was for you, and no, you were not supposed to find it like that... It's been sitting on that side of the bed for years, taunting me, and I never had the heart to throw it away.” Years? You wanted to cut him off and ask, but you let him continue. “ I had this whole thing planned to put in Italy. You remember?” he cleared his throat. Fuck “Obviously, that didn’t work out like I had hoped. I had forgotten it was there over these past few months because it was no longer a reminder of sad memories. I don’t know why I didn’t move it when we got back together; honestly, I just didn’t think about it. You were never supposed to see it… well, not never…” 

You took a moment to process, then slowly turned around to face Eddie. You placed a hand on his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. You didn’t know what this meant for the both of you now, but the idea of being engaged made you extremely happy. 

“I love you, Eddie.” You whispered as you pulled back. 

“So we are okay?” He nuzzled his nose against yours. 

“Yeah, I think so,” you nod. 

“Good, because I must punish you for being such a brat now.” Eddie threw up the blankets and pulled you over his lap before you knew what was happening.

“NO, we can’t hut the baby!” you shouted, not thinking. 

Eddie’s hand froze mid-air before it could come down on your bottom. 

You covered your mouth, realizing what you had just said as Eddie pulled you back up from his lap.

“What did you just say?” Eddie's eyes were wild while scanning your tummy back up to your face.

“I’m pregnant,” you spilled softly. 

“You’re- you- you’re? A baby?” Eddie pointed to your tummy. 

“This is not how I planned on telling you,” you groaned into your hands before looking up at Eddie, who had the brightest smile on his face. 

“You’re having a baby?” His large hand spread across your lower stomach. You place your hand over his and nod yes. 

“We are having a baby!!” Eddie shot up out of bed and pumped his fists as he ran around the room in excitement. You couldn’t help but laugh; this was the best reaction you could have hoped for. 

“When did you find out?” He ran back over to your side of the bed.

 “Um, not long, about two weeks ago…” 

“Two weeks?! Why didn’t you tell me?” He places a gentle hand over your tummy.

“I was scared… and I was waiting for the gift to come in the mail to help tell you.” You looked down as you started picking at your nails. 

“Scared?” Eddie cupped the side of your face.

“We are so new, and I didn't know if you wanted to be committed to me like that after everything from our past and-”

“No.” Eddie shook his head, cutting you off. “We aren’t doing that; this is the best news I could have ever asked for.” He leaned in to kiss you. “I love you,” another kiss. “I love you,” he moved down to your neck. Kissing you between each sentence. “You’re going to be the best momma… and now I’m going to have to take extra good care of my girl and baby.” Eddie couldn’t hold back his smile. 

Your skin tingled as Eddie made his way down your body with more kisses. You moaned from how his lips brushed so lightly against your skin. Everything had been heightened now that you were pregnant. Every touch, every kiss, every graze was like a bolt of lightning shooting down your body and straight to your clit. 

You moaned his name as he sucked on your neck. His hands gently pushed you up on the pillows resting on the headboard. 

“Have to treat my girl extra special now.” He whispered as he travelled down your body. His strong hands travelled down to the hem of your dress and wasted no time getting you naked. 

“Have to treat this pussy right; it’s going to be giving me the best gift in the world.” He kissed your clit over your panties, and your body jerked. This was the first time you’ve had sex since finding out the news. Your morning sickness had been taking over any time you were with Eddie. You won’t be up for it. 

Your body was so much more reactive, and Eddie noticed. Oh, he was going to have so much fun.

“You like that, Princess?” He stroked his index finger down your clothed slit before hooking a finger under the gusset and pulling them down in one swift motion. 

“Yes,” you panted. 

“Look at that,” Eddie said as he parted your legs. He ran a calloused fingertip through your slick. You grabbed his wrist when he got to your clit. 

“Too much,” you whimpered. It felt like your body was on fire. 

Eddie crawled back up to kiss you; it was soft and tender. His hand trailed up from your centre to your breasts. He cupped one over your bra and massaged gently as you ground your core into his thigh. 

“I can’t wait to worship this body,” Eddie spoke into your mouth. 

You let out a soft moan when Eddie pulled down the cups of your bra and latched his mouth onto your extra-sensitive nipple. Your hips hadn’t stopped moving. Your clit was throbbing as you ground your hips up and down his clothed thigh. Eddie let you use his leg to release the pressure that kept building and building in your lower stomach. The added pleasure of Eddie’s mouth on your peaked bud made your orgasm come faster than ever before. It didn’t take much before you were letting out silent screams. 

“Poor little thing, coming already? Eddie loved this. He was eating it up. 

“Please, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for? You were so sensitive, but you needed to feel Eddie or else you would explode. 

“There there little one, Daddy’s got you,” he cooed. 

“Daddy?” You questioned still in your fucked out haze.

Eddie never referred himself to Daddy in bed, only Sir. 

“Yes. Daddy. ‘Nd you’re Mommy.”

Was it weird? Yes. Were you arguing? No. It only turned you on even more. 

“Now stop thinking and let Daddy take care of you.” 

He aligned his hardened shaft with your dripping hole. 

It slipped in without any resistance; you felt every inch, every vein, and especially those glorious silver balls perched at the end of his shaft graze your g spot. 

“Oh my,” you whispered.  

“Aww, look at that little pussy clenching,” he pulled out before spreading you open again and again. 

Eddie wasn’t going at his usual pace; he knew it was silly, but he didn’t want to hurt the baby. He saw that you were so sensitive enough that he didn’t need to. 

He rocked his hips to push in and out of you slowly and methodically. 

“More,” you whimpered, trying to gyrate your hips against his to create more friction!  Eddie pinned your hips down.

“Nuh'uh, don’t fight it.” He threw your legs over his shoulders and leaned in so you folded in half. 

“Please,” you begged. You were so fucked out you just needed to feel every bit of him. 

“My poor little one.” he mocked before reaching his hand down to massage your swollen bud. “Can’t do anything about it, can you?” He was such an ass. 

“Please Eddie, I-I-”

“Oh, I think my cock got you so stupid. It’s not Eddie, baby girl.” He stopped all movement. 

“Daddy, please!” You were on the verge of tears at this point. You were so overstimulated. Every stroke, every brush, every breath was overwhelming you.

“There’s my smart girl.” Eddie bent down to kiss you as his hips thrust into you so deeply that you saw stars. Your body felt like it left and went to another dimension. 

“Keep coming, baby, that’s it.” Eddie didn’t let up. He continued to pound into your cunt until he was spilling himself inside of you. For the first time, Eddie wasn’t worried about him cum filling you up. 

“That’s it. Take it all. You’re my little cum dumpster. Going to fill you get you pregnant all over again.” 

You were too fucked out to realize what he was saying didn’t make any sense. 

You came back down to reality a few minutes later. You were curled up on Eddie’s chest. You could feel the rise and fall of his lungs as the room was filled with heavy pants until Eddie spoke up. 

“I wasn’t too much, was I?” Eddie was worried, worried about hurting you or the baby. You shook your head no in response.

“How did this happen?” Eddie questioned. 

“What? The baby?” You quipped.

“Yeah, I thought it was like impossible to get pregnant with an IUD?” He crunched his face, trying to think. 

Shit.

“I took it out…” you admit. No use lying to him.

“You- you took it out? What? When?” Eddie was shocked.

“I had it taken out over a year ago because I thought it was aiding my depression, you know… hormones and all that.” You bite your lip with anticipation. 

“Baby…” he trailed off. 

“I’m okay now, I swear. I’m doing a lot better,” you promised. 

“You promise to tell me if you ever feel like that again, OK?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You playfully reply. “Oh, that’s how it's going to be?” He raises a brow at you. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with the mother of my child, and you wanna be a brat?” His fingers started trailing up your sides, tickling your middle. 

“Eddie, stop!” You laugh, but he doesn’t let up. He continues until you’re almost in tears. When he finally gives in, it hits you what he said minutes earlier. You’re the mother of his child. Unborn but still yours nonetheless. 

“I’m going to be a mommy.” You whisper more to yourself than anyone. 

“Yeah, you are.” Eddie’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

“You two are so gross,” Violet Rose said as she entered the kitchen the next morning. 

“Huh?” You questioned before taking a bite of the scrambled egg Eddie had made for you

“I don’t ever want to hear your nightly activities ever again." she shuttered.

You felt all the blood drain from your face as you froze from the words she spoke. 

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumbled under your breath, trying to hide your face in your hands. How mortifying! 

“Mornin’ Cupcake,” Eddie walked back into the kitchen as Violet grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“So gross,” VR cringed and walked away without another word. 

“Hey! You’re still grounded, don’t forget. I don’t need the snarky comments,” he called after her, clueless about what she might have heard the night prior. 

“Baby, you might have to end her punishment early… she has suffered enough.” You try not to laugh, but it was so uncomfortable you don’t know how to react. 

“What?” Eddie looked back at you. 

“She heard us…last night.” you cringe.

“She knows about the baby?” He tilted his head. 

“No, not the baby,” you chuckle. 

“You mean?” Eddie’s eyes went wide at the realization. No wonder she called him gross. 

“Oh god! No, no, no, shit, shit, shit, shit.” 

“Baby, it will be okay.” You tried to console him. 

“Okay? It’s not okay! Probably scarred her for the rest of her life!” He brushed his hands down his face. “She shouldn’t even know what sex is! She’s a baby, my baby!” Eddie was spiralling. 

“She snuck into a club with a fake ID and was with a man twice her age when I found her... hate to break it to you, but she knows what sex is, babe.” You stroke his back, trying to calm him down. 

“She was with who now?” Eddie's face went beat red. Shit. You’d forgotten you hadn’t disclosed that part of the night you found VR at The Red Bottom's. 

“Shhhh shhhhh, it's okay. She got her punishment; she knows what she did was wrong. We are finally getting somewhere with her; let's not ruin it by reminding her of her mistakes.” You cooed. 

“Yea, yea, you’re right,” He sighed. 

“Poor kid,” you shake your head. 

“When do you want to tell her?” Eddie pulled you in by your oversized t-shirt. 

“You think we should tell her now? She is old enough. I don’t wanna keep any more secrets from her.” You wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck.

“Yeah, I think so too.” Eddie landed his forehead on yours. You were about to kiss when Violet Walked back into the room. 

“Oh god! Get a room!” She covered her eyes like she was in physical pain. 

“Sweetheart, come here. We have to share something important.” Eddie patted the bar stool that was beside him. 

“Do I have to? I could be doing, I don’t know, algebra homework or something.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Come, sit” Eddie used that commanding voice that made your pussy tingle. 

“We have some news. Exciting news.”  Eddie emphasized when he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“You want to tell her, or should I?” Eddie asked as he looked at you. 

“Um, you can tell her, baby” You smiled. You were very nervous about what her reaction would be. You had just broken the surface of making up with her. 

“You are going to be a big sister.” Eddie smiled brightly. 

A few seconds of silence pass before what Eddie said hits Violet Rose. “Shut up!” Violet’s face emulated her father’s as his mouth parted into a toothy smile. 

Well, that was better than expected…

“You’re having a baby!” She jumped up and embraced you in a hug. Tears of joy rose in your eyes, and you nodded. 

“Yeah,” You whispered. 

“Holy shit!” Violet was ecstatic. Now, this really meant you were here for good! You wouldn’t leave her and her father. She finally felt like things would be okay. 

“So you’re okay with this?” You ask with a quivering lip. God, pregnancy really made you a crybaby. 

“Yes! Omg we have to go shopping! We can get all the baby clothes and, oh, the nursery! We can decorate it; I have so many ideas! I saw one Pinterest the other day that was just the cutest! Oh, and we can do a baby shower! And a gender reveal party! But not those lame ones with the smoke or balloon ones that are horrible for the environment- ” She rambled on. 

“Whoah, slow down Cupcake”  Eddie cut her off. “We just found out, so you can’t tell anyone yet; it’s too early.”

“How far along are you?” She bounced up and down on her toes. 

“Five weeks.” You smile. 

“Oh, I'm so excited. I love you guys.” She hooked her arms around your and Eddie’s necks. 

That was the first time you heard her tell you that since she was eleven. The waterworks were starting up again. You’d finally felt like a family again. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Eddie, Violet Rose and you had lived in your little bubble for the past two months. Things with VR were so much better; she was opening up to you like she used to and trusting you more than ever. Eddie had also asked you to move in with him. 

Even though you loved your little bungalow, having the four of you living there wasn't practical. Eddie’s had so much more space and was always a home to you in the time you’ve known him. You’d convinced Eddie to start redecorating just a little bit. However, you told him the house needed to be brighter. So after some negotiations (letting Eddie do filthy things to you), you got your way and painted the walls lighter. It made the house look so much more significant. Violet cheered when you told her the dungeon she lived in would be given a facelift. 

Today, Eddie and Violet Rose and you were out furniture shopping. You’d wanted to fix the bedroom to make it yours and Eddie’s rather than just Eddie’s. Eddie was fine with anything as long as you were happy. You’d also come across some cribs and changing tables in the store that you loved and marked down to save for the future. 

After hours of looking, you were starving, so you went to lunch at your favourite spot.

Word was starting to spread that you and Eddie had gotten back together. You both hadn’t officially announced anything, but you had been spotted out in public a few times, and the wind was picking up in the tabloids about the both of you, so you were grateful when the restaurant wasn’t bustling.

“The baby is still hungry,” You wined as the waiter walked away with empty plates.  

“Holy shit!” Violet Rose squealed out of nowhere. 

“What?!” You ask.

“Oh my god, I can't believe that's her!” Violet half whispered. She didn’t get excited about celebrities; she grew up with them, so why was she freaking out about this one? 

You look at Eddie and see all the blood drain from his face. 

“What is it?” You grab his hand. 

“Eddie, is that you?” You heard a sickly, sweet voice approach the table. 

You cannot believe who is standing before you as you look to your right. 

“Sarafina, uh, hi- it’s been a while.” He stuttered as she wrapped herself around your boyfriend.  

“Wait, you two know one another? Dad! why didn’t you tell me?” Violet chastised. 

You watched as Sarafina’s face shot towards her daughters. 

“This must be Violet Rose.” She smiled. God, she was beautiful. 

“You know my name?” Violet’s eyebrows shot up.

“Well yeah, I-” she looked to Eddie, and he subtly shook his head no. “I, uh, know your Dad; we go way back. About sixteen years, if I’m not mistaken.” She clearly was hurt by the fact Violet Rose didn’t know she was her mother. 

You’d cleared your throat to take the attention off Sarafina. 

“Oh, I’m being so rude. Where are my manners?” She spoke. “I’m Sarafina, and you are?” 

“This is my Mom. You can call her Poppy or Angel, whatever works,” Violet Rose spoke up, and you and Eddie both wiped your heads toward her.  She hadn’t ever called you her Mom before? “Uh yea, whatever works? It’s very nice to meet you.” You stuck out your hand as a gesture. She didn’t take it. 

“Mom? You’re young enough to be her sister.” You knew it was a jab but weren’t sinking to that level. 

“Yeah, well, she’s a great one.” Eddie grabbed your hand.

“Well, I uh- don’t want to bother you any longer on your little family day.” She cleared her throat. “It was nice seeing you, Eddie,” She nodded and then lingered on Violet Rose before she walked out of the restaurant.  

“What the hell, dad!” Violet spoke as soon as she saw Sarafina exit the building.

“Violet Rose Winnifred Munson. Don’t.” Eddie never used her full name unless he meant it. So she dropped it… for now. She thought about asking you later when her dad wasn’t around. 

The car ride home was quiet until Violet spoke up. 

“So uh, about lunch… I think Sarafina likes you, Dad.” 

“What?” He jerked the wheel a bit, making you squeak. “Sorry baby, but what are you talking about Cupcake?” He looked at her through the rearview mirror. 

“She was totally all over you!” 

“Is that why you called Angel your mom?” Your eyes went wide with curiosity. 

“Well, yeah, partly.” She shrugged. 

“Partly?” You ask, looking back at her. 

“You’re more of a mom than she ever was to me.” Violet had dug into who his dad had been with around the time she was conceived. She got final confirmation when Sarafina said they’d known each other for sixteen years. It wasn’t rocket science to see the similarities in her face and her birth mother's.

Somehow Eddie managed to keep his cool while driving you safely back home before freaking out. The three of you exited the car, and Eddie walked over to Violet Rose. As you watched him engulf his daughter in a suffocating hug, you couldn’t help but sniffle. Damn you, baby hormones. 

“I want you to know how special you are. You are so brave, smart, loving, and funny, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your Dad, okay?” He kissed the side of her head and pulled away. 

“Thanks, Dad. But can I ask…. Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked as you all walked back into the house. 

“Because Cupcake, I know what it’s like to not be wanted by the people who are supposed to love you the most. And I did not want that for you, ever. Growing up, I couldn’t have you seeing that woman everywhere, knowing she asked not to be a part of your life.” Eddie sighed. 

“I love you, Dad, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around this whole thing. I kinda just wanna call Charlotte and tell her what’s happening.” She made her way to the staircase. 

“I’m just going to ask that you ask her not to say anything. I know she won’t, but Sarafina asked that no one knew�� that’s part of why I didn’t tell you, kiddo. But you have every right to talk about it… it’s your life, too.” Eddie sighed. 

“Thanks, Dad.” Violet turned and walked up the stairs. 

“You’re a good Dad.” You turned to hug Eddie once VR was out of sight. 

“It’s so hard sometimes.” He nuzzled his head into your neck. 

“But you have me now; you don’t have to do this alone anymore.” You stroked his head. 

“God, I love you.” He leaned in for a deep kiss.

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

You told Roger and your team you were pregnant a week ago. You were starting to show and couldn't really hide the bump anymore. It's been over three months, and your doctor said the baby was healthy, so it was okay to start telling people. 

Roger was excited, more than enthusiastic; he had ideas on pregnancy announcements. He insisted on a People Magazine cover to announce your and Eddie’s relationship plus the Baby. You’d let him know you would run it by Eddie, but it seemed like he didn’t have a choice. 

“I don’t know about this Princess,” Eddie snuggled you while laying in bed, getting ready to sleep. 

“Come on baby, it could be good for us, like really good! No more sneaking around. I can finally stop worrying about people finding out, and it will probably up record sales.” You stroked his tattooed-clad chest. 

“I hate photoshoots; they’re so long, and I always get so cranky and hungry-”

“Hangry.” 

“Yea, that… and what about you? I don’t want you on your feet that long.” 

“Who says I’ll be on my feet?” you tease. “I’ll probably be in nothing but a sheet, baby. I’ll have to show my little bump, and you can be there with me while I’m practically naked…. Or I can do the same without you and just make it all about me.” you shrug, knowing that won’t fly. 

“No way in hell I’m letting you be naked in a room with a bunch of men without me.” Eddie huffed. 

“Okay, then it’s settled. You’re doing it.” you kiss his cheek and roll over to turn out the light. You could feel Eddie roll his eyes, and you snuggled back into his chest. 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿 

The magazine cover came out when you were five months along. Your baby bump was more prominent now than on the shoot day. You could finally show it off without worrying about hiding your tummy anymore. It felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. 

“Can’t believe it's finally public,” you sighed. You were in the living room hanging out with Violet Rose. 

“Me too! Now I can finally tell people I will be a big sister!” She applauded. “You think it will be a boy or girl?” She asked. 

“I don’t know yet. I thought I would have a feeling by now, but honestly, I’m unsure.” You rubbed your tummy. 

“Too bad you guys are waiting; I would have planned the best gender reveal party…”  she sighed.   “Speaking of parties.” Violet Rose hesitated, knowing she couldn’t be trusted with going out after being busted. “Charlotte is having a birthday party tonight, and I was hoping you could help me get ready?” 

“And where is this party being held?” You question. 

“At her house, her parents will be there; it is totally supervised, I swear.” She crossed her heart. 

“And your Dad knows you’re going?” You question. 

“Yes, I already spoke to him. I’m sleeping there, so you don’t have to pick me up either. 

“Of course, I’ll help you get ready,” you smile.

You were sat in Violet’s room in a pile of clothing. She was freaking out about what she should wear. Then, after you figured out her outfit, you would help her with her hair and makeup. 

“Ugh! I'm never going to find anything cute enough!” She cried. 

“This is so cute. Wear this!” You pull a black minidress out of the pile she had thrown at you. 

“I wore that last time!” She wined. 

You looked at the clock; it was only 5:00 pm; thank god you had three hours to help her get ready. 

“Come, let’s look in my closet…” you waved her over to follow you to your room.

After settling on one of your outfits, you returned to her room to do her hair and makeup. 

“So any particular reason you are freaking out?” You laugh while blending her bronzer. 

“I’m not freaking out,” She huffed. 

You give her a knowing look. 

“Okay, fine. My crush will be there, and I wanted to look nice for them…” She sighed. 

“Oh, a crush! Do tell.” You wiggled your brows at her. You were so excited she was finally opening up to you again. 

“uh… well.” Violet hesitated. 

“It’s okay, baby, you can tell me,” you reassured her. 

“It’s Char.” She looked down, avoiding eye contact. 

“Oh?” You were taken aback a little; you didn’t think she would be crushing on her new best friend. 

“I, uh. I like both boys and girls.” She twiddled with her thumb. You could tell hoe nervous she was, but you were so happy she opened up. 

“Can I tell you a secret? You lifted her chin so you could continue doing her face. “I like boys and girls too.” You smiled. Not many people knew about your preferences. However, it felt right to let her know she wouldn’t be judged by you.

“What?” Violet Rose’s eyes brightened. 

You nod your head to confirm. 

“Does Dad know?” She asked. 

“Yeah, I told him when we first started the whole fake dating thing.” You shrugged.

“Cool,” she half whispered. 

“So tell me more.” You smile, reaching for the eyeshadow brush. 

“Well she is really pretty, and smart, and funny, and we get along so well. I feel like she’s my other half.” She sighed. 

“Do you know if she likes girls too?” 

“No” her shoulders sunk. 

“Well, she would be crazy not to like you back if she does.” 

“You think so?” She looked up at you with those chocolate eyes. 

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way because I do not condone what you did at the club, but you pulled that guy, didn’t you? You’re beautiful. Your mom’s a supermodel, and you’re funny, charismatic, and kind.” You tell her. 

“She’s not my mom…” She shook her head. 

“You know what I mean-”

“You are,” she cut you off. 

“Ohhhh, don’t you do this to me now!” You jokingly threaten as you try to hold back the waterworks. 

“Pop, I'm sorry I keep forgetting how the baby makes you emotional.” She giggled. 

You sniffle a bit and pull it together to continue her eye makeup.

“Anyway… I hope I figure out what to do.” She sighs.

“Have you told your dad?” You ask, moving on to her hair. 

“No,” she shakes her head. 

“Okay, I won’t say anything until you're ready to tell him yourself.” You smile at her from your reflection in the mirror. 

“Thanks, Mom,” she said with a slight grin. 

“Okay, you’ll have to give me a minute.” You walked to her night side table to get a tissue while she laughed in her vanity chair. 

*knock knock knock* 

“What’s going on in here?” Eddie walked in to see you crying and Violet Rose laughing. 

“She *sniffle* called *sniffle* me *sniffle* Mom.” The dam broke; you couldn’t help it. You had been overcome with so much love. 

“Oh, Angel, come here.” Eddie wrapped his arms around you. He smiled over your shoulder to VR and waved her over. You felt another pair of arms wrap around your shoulder from behind. 

“God, you Munsons are so mushy,” You spoke into Eddie's chest. Your body shook as the both of them giggled around you.

“Don’t tell anyone we have an image to uphold.” Eddie smiled.

“I don’t think anyone is going to be calling you a bad boy after that magazine cover” VR cackled. 

“You’re on thin ice missy, I can make you stay home.” Eddie threatened. 

“Oh baby you can’t do that! We put in hours of work!” You patted your tear-stained cheeks. 

“Fine, I can’t say no to you.” he kissed the tip of your nose.

“OK, people, I have one hour left. I need my hair finished!” She rushed back to the straightening iron. 

“Okay okay” You laughed. “Let’s get you picture perfect.” 

🎸𖤐𝄞💿𓆩🎧𓆪 🎸𖤐𝄞💿

Eddie had it all planned out for months. He had consulted Violet Rose on proposal ideas. She suggested a pamper day.  He was taking you on a lovely day out, and you were getting a maternity massage, then getting your nails and hair done. Then he would take you shopping if you weren’t too tired before he took you home to cook a nice dinner. After dinner, he would pop the question.

Violet Rose planned a sleepover so you could have the house to yourself. She didn’t want a repeat of the last time she heard about your extracurricular activities. 

When Eddie told you of your plans today, he wasn’t surprised at your shocked reaction. You were seven months pregnant, and he told you it was because you’d been working so hard to finish your album. The release date was pushed back because you felt the songs weren’t working. Eddie told you that the stress wasn’t good for the baby and you needed a day for yourself.

Eddie went with you to every appointment. He also got himself a massage while you had yours. He sat and waited for you while your nails and hair were done without a peep. 

You told him you would go shopping another day; your feet were swollen and still bothering you. You went home and took a nap, and when you woke up, Eddie had placed your favourite slippers by the bed so you didn’t have to step on the cold floor. He also placed your favourite maternity dress out for you next to a note that said to get ready for your date.

You could smell something delicious from the kitchen when you stepped out of the bedroom. As you rounded the corner, you saw a candle-lit dinner ready and plated waiting for you. 

“Baby, what’s this?” You ask, seeing Edie put the final touches on the table.  Eddie turned and smiled. Fuck he looked so good tonight. Eddie was also dressed up. He wore the same black silk shit he wore the first time the two of you met, paired with a nice pair of black dress pants and a classic understated black belt. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Eddie greeted you with a kiss.

“You try growing a person and see how tired you get,” You giggle, walking towards your chair. 

Eddie steps over to pull it out for you. Forever your gentleman. 

“Thank you, baby. What's all this?” You asked as he scooted you in. 

“Can’t a man take care of his perfect, beautiful woman?” He smirks. 

“What did you do?” You ask. He is being suspicious. 

“Now, why would I have had to do something to treat the woman I love?” He raises his brow to you. 

“Don’t know? I feel like you’re doing so much for me today; I’m surprised.” You take a sip of the water he poured you. 

“Well, the night is still young, cheers.” Eddie held up his glass. 

Eddie pulled you out to the yard for fresh air after your meal. The backyard was decked out in what seemed to be hundreds of twinkle lights. There was a gazebo in the back by the pond that you liked to read in. He led you towards it and saw it covered in plush blankets and pillows. 

“Eddie, what’s all this?” You whispered in amazement. Eddie had a team come in and set everything up while the two of you were running your errands.

“Come,” he held your hand as he helped you up the steps. 

“Angel…” Eddie took a deep breath.

“Yes?” You looked up at him, and he swore your eyes twinkled. 

“I have loved you from the moment you flirted with me at your show. I never knew someone could make me feel this way, and honestly, I didn’t believe in love because I had never found it until I met you. I never want to lose you again.  You are the light of my life, my everything. You own my soul. I never have and never will stop loving you.” He knelt down on one knee. 

Your hand flew up to your mouth when he pulled out the ring you found a few months ago.

“Will you spend the rest of forever with me?” 

Your hands shook as he pulled the ring out of the box and slid it up your finger. 

“See, it was always meant for you. I just got it a little too early,” he smirked. 

You crouch over as much as you can with your belly and pull him in for a deep kiss.

“So, is that a yes?” Eddie pulled away.  

“You’re sure you want this baby? You want me forever? Us forever?” You cupped your lower stomach. 

“Of course, baby, I’ve wanted you forever.” he cupped your face with both hands. 

“So?” 

“Yes, Eddie, I’ll marry you,” you smile. 

Eddie let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

“You sure you wanna be stuck with me forever?” Eddie chuckled. 

“Yes” you cupped your hands over his. 

“Good, because I’m never letting you go ever again.” 

~end~

Tag list: @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die @mimsie95 @mystargirl-interlude @rip-quizilla @munsonology @ali-r3n @callsignraver @battymunson @allthingsjoeq @ceriseheaven @xxhellfiregirlxx @amira0303 @mmunson86 @lofaewrites @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @lokis-army-77 @hellfiremunsonn @hellfire--cult @hellfirenacht @oneforthemunny @lma1986 @mimsie95 @straykeeks @crazycat-ladys-blog @purplehazed-h @starksbabie @hellfire--cult @goth-cowgirl-03 @dashingdeb16 @slayyymisha @xblueriddlex @kellsck @localemofreak @goodbyegh0st @nope-thanks @nabiiturner @neurospicynugget @micheledawn1975 @mikromoon @corrodedcoffincumslut @http-dilflvr

[love-hs28]

Under the Spotlight

Summary: Corroded Coffin was playing a massive gig tonight, and you, the drummer, were feeling an unusual sense of stage fright. Eddie, of course, was thankfully there to talk you down from it. 

Rockstar!Eddie x Rockstar!Reader cw: reader has slight panic attack  900 words  hurt/comfort Posted on: 11-16-24

The hum of the backstage area was nothing new to you. The excited and restless voices of the roadies who had been following you around tour for months now, the vibrations of the soundcheck, and the smell of stale beer from the nearby bar all created a kind of background music that you were used to. You were sitting behind your drum set, idly tapping a rhythm on your thighs while you absentmindedly watched Eddie tune his guitar a few feet away.  

You usually had no trouble hyping yourself up before gigs, even big ones like this, but for some reason, tonight was different. Maybe it was the stress of being away from home for months on end, or the fact that you messed up on a big song during the last gig (even though no one else noticed), or even the stupid fact that you forgot your lucky drumstick at your last gig so have to use a spare pair now. Regardless of what it was, you couldn’t shake that anxious feeling in your chest. 

Your hands were beginning to feel unusualy clammy, your heart raced as if you had just finished springing a marathon, and there was a tight, suffocating weight on your chest. You stared at the drumsticks on the floor, trying to ground yourself, but your breath quickened regardless. 

Eddie said your name, breaking through the haze around your head, noticing something was wrong. He’d been checking the strap on his guitar, the one with the worn leather he refused to replace because it “had character”. Now, his dark eyes were trained on you, brow furrowed in concern. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice thin. “Just tired, I think.” 

Eddie didn’t buy it. He’s known you long enough to know when something’s up, and when you’re trying to hide it. He knew you better than anyone, and right now, he could see right through you. 

Dropping his guitar on its stand, Eddie walked over and crouched in front of you, resting his hands on your knees. “What’s goin on, honey?” 

You hesitated, biting your lip hard enough to taste copper. “I-” you swallowed, forcing yourself to say it. “I don’t know what’s wrong, Eds. I’m freaking out. My hands won’t stop shaking, and my chest feels- like- tight. It’s- it’s stupid.” You shook your head, embarrassed that you were having these problems now, after being on tour long enough to get over any potential stage fright. 

Eddie’s eyes offended, his gaze falling down to your trembling hands, taking them in his own before meeting your eyes again. He shook his head. “It’s not stupid,” he said firmly, rubbing your knuckles with a gentle but grounding pressure. “This gig’s a big deal. It’s okay to be nervous, sweetheart.” 

“But I never get nervous!” Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but this was frustrating. Your voice wavered as tears began to fill your eyes. “We’ve played at least a hundred gigs by now. This shouldn't be happening. Why-” Your breath hitched as your chest tightened further, and panic began to claw at your throat. 

“Hey, hey, angel. Look at me.” Eddie’s voice was calm but urgent. He had seen this side of you before, albeit rarely, but he knew how quickly a situation like this could escalate. He moved closer, his hands squeezing yours gently. “You’re safe. Just breathe, okay? In for four, out for four.” 

You tried to follow his instructions, but your breaths came shallow and rapid, the room starting to slightly spin. 

Eddie said your name, softer this time. He cupped your face in his hands, his rings cool against your flushed skin. “Listen to me. You’re not alone, okay? I’m right here. I’ve got you. The band’s got you. And you’re done this a million times because you’re you. Badass drummer extraordinaire, you’ve got this.” 

His attempts at raising your confidence didn’t go unappreciated, and you nodded your head slowly, vision still blurred with tears, but taking in his words. Your breathing gradually slowed as you focused on his voice and remembered the breathing techniques the two of you had practiced many times; techniques you had orignally taught him at the beginning of your touring days.

“That’s it, baby. Nice and slow.” Eddie brushed a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb, his lopsided grin finally breaking through. “You can smack me with a drumstick later for being corny, but I’m serious, babe. You’re amazing. And when you get out there? You’re gonna blow their damn socks off.” 

A shaky laugh escaped you as the tightness in your chest eased. “Might have to take you up on that”

Eddie grinned wider, pulling you into a tight hug. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

The sound of the stage manager yelling “Two minutes!” caused the two of you to jump, and eddie laughed as he stood up, offering a hand to help you do the same. 

“Ready?” He asked, wiggling his fingers. 

You smiled and nodded, taking a deep breath and gripping your drumsticks tightly, but taking his hand as you stood up. “Let’s do it.” 

As you stepped onto the stage and headed to your drims, the roar of the crowd hit you like an electric wave. You glanced at Eddie, who winked at you before strumming the opening chord for your first song. God, you would never get tired of this view. 

But, just as quickly as it had appeared, your fear melted away under the bright stage lights, the rhythm of your drums pounding in time with your now excited heartbeat. Eddie was right- you had this. Together. 

Still not over my Eddie phase. Sorry this is so similar to my last Eddie fic! (Tooootallyyyyy not self-projecting onto my writing😛) Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading xoxo

[eddiesghxst]

I THINK WE’RE ALONE NOW

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader

summary: your band, Daughters of Vampira, and Corroded Coffin hate each other and are struggling to keep a clean image in the media; so, in an attempt to solve the issue, your managers come up with the brilliant idea of sticking you all on the road together for nine months.

contains: enemies to lovers, alcohol consumption, smoking, cheating, themes of misogyny/sexism, and eventual smut— each chapter will have more, in-depth warnings.

| Daughters of Vampira Setlist | Corroded Coffin Setlist |

-purplehazed-h main masterlist-

QUICK NOTE: Dustin and Erica are older than the band members in this fic, simply because it makes more sense for their roles as managers!!

————

Tracklist (chapters)

Track #1 - All I wanted

Track #2 - Crazy Bitch

Track #3 -

…pending…

THE ALBUM

THE BAND

READER ON LEAD VOCALS AND GUITAR

NANCY WHEELER ON BASS

MAX MAYFIELD ON ELECTRIC GUITAR

ROBIN BUCKLEY ON DRUMS

with guest appearances from…

famous heavy metal band, CORRODED COFFIN

————

a/n: SO VERY EXCITED TO SHARE THIS WITH YOU, this is a big project i had the joy of working on with the beautiful and so very talented @frankeneddie, we hope you fall in love with these characters as much as we have in this process🫶 happy reading!

[eiightysixbaby]

i've got you under my skin now

word count: 2.9k

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. SMUT SMUT SMUT. kind of asshole!eddie but he's really just a moody baby, oral (m receiving), masturbation, reader and eddie argue but everything is consensual, really just absolute filth with a plot.

summary: you're an up-and-coming musician in the rock scene and have been asked to join corroded coffin on a song. only thing is, their singer - eddie munson - proves to be challenging to collaborate with.

author's note: my first lengthier work so sorry in advance if there are errors! this is a daisy jones and the six inspired one-shot, and for the sake of this fic i directly reference the title and lyrics of the song 'honeycomb' from the tv show - but you really don't need to know the book/show to understand. ok anyways hope u all like it and here u go @taintedcigs i know u've been waiting for this one em i hope u love it!!

“Honestly Eddie, I don’t care anymore! I’m not listening to your little rockstar tantrum. She’s coming in, and she’s joining you on the song. That’s final.”

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

Eddie scoffs at his manager. Ever since he was informed that ‘Y/N - biggest fucking nobody in the rock scene’ was going to be coming in and recording his song with him, Eddie had been relenting.

“Tom, you don’t fucking get it man. Clearly. My song is perfect. What do we need her for? She doesn’t even have an album out, she’s made no name for herself. She’s going to ruin Corroded Coffin.” Eddie continues pestering, despite Tom’s insistence against it.

“No, Eddie, see that’s where you’re wrong. You wrote a good song man, okay? A good song. But just a good song. She could make it great. You haven’t heard her sing like I have. She has real talent.”

Eddie scrunches up his face and pinches the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Oh a good song, huh? But you said the label liked it. Why change it?”

Tom sighs, taking a step towards Eddie. “The label didn’t dig the song… okay? They said it needs more, otherwise they’re gonna pass on it.”

“So you fuckin’ lied man, fuck-“ Eddie grits his teeth. “Fine, whatever, she’s gonna sing on the song with me. But that’s it.” Eddie grumbles, storming out of the small room.

•••

“He doesn’t get it, guys, he doesn’t fucking get it!” Eddie yells. “This is my song. My fucking baby. And this... bitch is gonna come in here and destroy it. I don’t need her singing on the song - I don’t need anyone to make my music ‘better’” he spits.

The thing is, things have always gone Eddie’s way since Corroded Coffin gained traction in the music world. Eddie writes the songs, Eddie dictates which songs go on the album, so on and so forth. This makes sense to Eddie, and if you ask him, he’s being completely fair to the rest of the guys in the band. ‘Of course I let them have a say in things. I don’t care what rumors you’ve heard - it’s a fair process around here.’ It’s only natural that he can’t handle the idea of someone else singing on his song. Eddie is always the one singing, save for Gareth and Jeff doing backing vocals.

Eddie thrives off of being liked. The way the fans hang onto every word he sings- it’s electric to him. He’s addicted to the way people adore him. And he’d never admit it to anybody… but he’s nervous you might just show him up, and then *poof* no one cares about him anymore.

“Come on, Eddie. Ease up a little! This could be fun, you never know.” Gareth says, following Eddie back and forth as he paces the recording studio.

“I give you like, 20 minutes before you’re in love with her… or bending her over a table.” Jeff interjects, screeching when Gareth throws a drumstick at him to shut him up.

Eddie can’t get a rebuttal in before the door swings open. Tom walks in trailed by a young woman. Quite possibly the most beautiful woman Eddie’s ever see- nope. Nope. Not going there. What was that?

“Guys. This is Y/N, as I’m sure you could guess. She’s here to record ‘Honeycomb’ with us today.” Tom smiles politely at the group, jolting Eddie from his thoughts.

“Y/N, hey. It’s so nice to finally meet you. I’m Gareth, this is Jeff, Greg, and I’m sure you know Eddie - the star of the show.” Gareth goes around the room, pointing at all of the guys.

You meet Eddie’s gaze as Gareth talks, and your breath hitches in your throat. Of course you know who Eddie is- you’ve seen him on magazine covers and in interviews. You’ve always thought he was alluring, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Long, curly hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Tattoos trailing up his arms and chains around his neck. His signature ripped black skinny jeans that hug him so well in all the right places… fuck. Focus. You are not here to sleep with Eddie Munson. You redirect your attention to Gareth as he finishes speaking.

The rest of the guys all greet you warmly - except Eddie, you notice - who gives you a tight-lipped smile and a quick nod.

You walk straight up to him, holding out your hand for him to shake. “It’s so nice to meet you Eddie. Thank you so much for letting me be on the song - seriously, it means the world.” You say, exaggerating sincerity a little.

Eddie reluctantly shakes your hand. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”

He walks away to set up a microphone before he can think too hard about the way his heart pounded as your hands touched.

•••

The recording session starts, and take one of the song has begun. You insisted on using the same mic as Eddie, who begrudgingly allowed you to stand beside him, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. The contact sends chills down his spine. Eddie sings the first lines confidently into the mic, not making eye contact with you. Tom, along with the rest of the band watch the two of you intently from the sound booth. Honestly, Eddie has to admit everything is going smoothly. That is, until the chorus starts. Eddie sings one lyric into the microphone… and you sing a different one.

“Woah, woah, okay, stop!” Eddie yells to Tom to cut the track, pulling the clunky headphones off of his head. “Those aren’t the lyrics, what are you doing?” He’s turned to face you, incredulous.

“Um I- I’m sorry, did he not get my version? Does he not know?” You say, avoiding eye contact with Eddie to level with Tom.

“Your version!? This is my song- you are here to sing on my song. Not to rewrite the damn song!” Eddie hisses, throwing his hands in the air.

“No, darling, I’m here to make your song better. And that’s exactly what I’ve done.” You narrow your eyes at him, a syrupy sweet smile on your face.

Eddie’s face is burning, his whole body is burning. You weren’t supposed to write new lyrics. This is not happening. And for the love of god stop staring at her lips, Eddie.

“Eddie, uh, let’s give her version a shot, yeah?” Tom says, framing it like a question, but Eddie knows he doesn’t really have a choice.

The track starts from the top again, and Eddie finds that his hands are trembling as he holds your songbook. He sings the lyrics as you have written them, and his stomach sinks as he does it. He hates that you’ve changed his perfect song. He hates that he was made to look like an idiot because Tom didn’t tell him you had rewritten anything. And most of all, he hates that he can hear how good your voices sound together. He hates that he thinks he’d like to hear the sound of your voice for the rest of his life, on the rest of his songs.

“Oooh, we could make a good thing bad,” the two of you sing out in unison, and the song ends.

Eddie stares at you and you stare at him, chest heaving and absolutely beaming. The rest of the band are looking at the two of you in awe from the sound booth. Eddie can’t bring himself to smile, can’t bring himself to let you know that he thinks you really might have made his song better. Can’t face you while his mind races with thoughts of grabbing your face and kissing you. Instead, he hands you your lyric book and hurries out of the studio.

You excuse yourself to the group amid their praises and follow him out the large wooden doors. You’re surprised to find the lobby empty, but then you hear noise coming from down the hall. Walking over to a small closet, you peer in and see Eddie in the dim light, leaning against the wall, hands covering his face and his head tipped back.

“Eddie, what was up with that?” You ask him gently, closing the closet door behind you for privacy. “I thought we sounded great.”

“You rewrote my fucking song!” He booms over you. “That wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to sing on it with me and that would be that.” He’s stepped towards you, leaving little room between the two of you in the already-cramped closet.

“It’s not my fault Tom didn’t tell you I changed some of the lyrics, okay? I didn’t expect you to be blindsided like that. But you could’ve been more mature about it!” You defend.

“Who the hell do you think you are? No- seriously, tell me. Corroded Coffin has worked so hard to make a name for ourselves. I have worked so hard. And you just waltz in here like you own the place? What the fuck is your problem?” Eddie’s words come out sharp, bitter, but there’s an emotion behind his eyes you can’t quite place. Fear? Maybe.

“Oh get your head out of your ass already, Eddie! I made your song better! We sounded fucking amazing together- the label might actually want it now!” You’re screaming back at him at this point, heat rising in your face as he steps impossibly closer to you. “And don’t even get me fucking started on the Corroded Coffin bullshit. Do you even give the other guys a say in what happens in this band? Cause you seem like a big cocky crybaby who always gets his way. I may not be rich and famous like you are but at least I’m not a fucking prick!” You’re seething, and you press your hands to his chest in an attempt to shove him backwards.

Eddie stops you, though, grabs you by the wrists. Firmly, but not hurting. His huge brown eyes haven’t stopped boring into yours. He thinks his heart might sprout wings and fly out of his chest. He thinks he might hate himself forever if he doesn’t get to have more of you.

“What- now you’re speechless? Don’t have anything to s-“ Eddie cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours like his life suddenly depends on it. Maybe it does.

You’re caught off guard, frozen in place for only a second until you kiss him back, pushing him up against the shelves behind him. His hands leave your wrists and hastily scour your body. You’d think he was a man starved the way he grips at your hips, lips basically devouring yours all the while. Eddie gasps as you lean down to his neck, sucking red and purple marks onto the skin that Jeff is definitely going to mock him for later. He can’t bring himself to care. He grabs your face in his hands to meet your lips once again, needing more.

“You wanna know something, Y/N?” Eddie says between kisses, moving down to nip at your neck. “I can’t fucking stand the way you came in here so confidently today-“ another kiss to your neck. “The way you came right up and sang into the same mic as me instead of using your own, like you just own the whole room-“ another kiss, and another “I can’t stand the fact that your lyrics are better than mine- that maybe you made 'Honeycomb' something I couldn’t make it,” he’s talking through gritted teeth, agitated and yet completely enamored with you. “I hate that the entire time I was watching you sing, I couldn’t stop thinking about your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock..”

Before you can respond, he’s unbuttoning your jeans, pushing you against the opposite wall of the closet, taking control.

“I think you’re absolutely insufferable and immature” you breathe out, pulling his hair out of its ponytail so you can run your fingers through it.

He lets out a breathy chuckle, but it’s arrogant, smug. “You can spit whatever insults you like, sweetheart, but you’re absolutely soaked right now.” He gives you a smile, tilting his head to the side as he does. His fingers had slipped inside the waistband of your pants, and are now circling the lace fabric of your panties.

You feel yourself clench around nothing as his fingers tease your core. You let out an involuntary moan, rutting your hips down against his touch. He gets the hint and shimmies your jeans down your legs, and you slip out of them after quickly taking your shoes off. You meet his gaze again as he tugs his jeans down slightly, pulling his cock free from the thin fabric of his boxers.

And - oh my god - he’s fucking huge. Thick and long with a dripping pink tip. You swallow, hard, and you swear you feel your mouth start to water. Suddenly you can’t figure out how you’ve survived this long without him, and you certainly won’t be able to after this.

“Get on your fucking knees, babydoll” he purrs, lips inches away from your ear.

You oblige, of course, settling yourself so that your pussy rests on the toe of his combat boot, aching for whatever friction you can get. You take his cock into your mouth without further instruction from the rockstar, and he inhales sharply above you.

“Fuck, baby, shit-“ Eddie groans, collecting your hair in one of his hands and tugging, his cock twitching slightly in your mouth.

“What, big shot, can’t handle it? Should I tell the press that Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin comes three seconds into a blowjob?” you tease him, but you can’t ignore the way your head spins at his praise.

“Shut up and fucking suck it, sweetheart- I can handle it.” He hisses.

You don't need further instruction. Your tongue works on his cock, licking a stripe up his length and then kitten-licking the tip. Eddie’s seeing stars as you engulf him entirely in your mouth once again. You go at it for a while before he feels you rutting yourself against his boot.

His laugh is devious, wicked. “So desperate for me huh, sweet thing? Gonna get yourself off while you suck my cock, baby?”

You want to retaliate, taunt him back, do anything to make yourself seem like more than a pathetic fucking whore for him, but you’re dripping through your panties and the friction is so, so delicious you can’t stop your movements. Warmth is beginning to pool in your stomach and you need this release. You take him as deep into your mouth as you can, his tip practically nudging the back of your throat, gagging around him. Eddie thinks he might die, seriously, this is it for him. ‘Rockstar Dies In Supply Closet With His Dick Out’ he can see the tabloid headlines now. He tugs your hair and holds your head still as he starts to fuck into your mouth, reveling in the moans and mewls you let out beneath him.

“Shit, sweetheart, you feel s’fucking good around my dick-" he grunts, throwing his head back as he picks up his pace. "Go ahead and touch yourself for me, sweet girl. I know you need more." He says roughly.

You happily let him throat-fuck you as you tug your panties down slightly, bringing a hand down to allow your fingers to rub harsh circles into your clit. You feel yourself getting closer, a coil tightening more more more as he fucks into the heat of your mouth. You can sense his movements getting erratic, and you glance up to look at his face. He's delirious, so fucked out, and you feel as if you could melt into a puddle right here at his feet as you watch him.

“I’m gonna fucking cum, sweetheart, shit- you want it in your mouth?” He asks you, brown eyes blown out wide as he awaits your response.

You nod, mouth too full of him to speak, and you squeeze his heavy balls in your free hand as he thrusts faster faster faster into your mouth. He lets out a strangled moan as his cock twitches, ropes of hot cum coating your tongue. You quicken your pace on your aching clit and it doesn't take long for the coil in your stomach to snap. You cum all over your fingers and Eddie's boot that still rests beneath you, as he finishes riding out his high above you. He watches you as you swallow his load and he silently swears to himself he’ll do whatever he can to have you like this more often.

“Fuck, baby, you soaked my shoes huh? You okay?” He asks you tenderly, grabbing your arms to pick you up off the floor and steady your shaking frame. You nod, collapsing against him, head pressed to his chest. The two of you stay like that for a while, listening to each others heavy breaths before Eddie finally breaks the silence.

“I’m sorry for being a dick about having you on the song, okay?” He says, his voice softer and far more unsure than you've ever heard it. “You made it better- I really fucking mean that.”

“I know I did.” you reply, shifting to meet his gaze, and he smiles at you. “A few more rounds of this," you gesture around the two of you, "and I think you’ll have made it up to me” you smirk at him.

“Alright, sweetheart, same place same time tomorrow?” Eddie teases, and you laugh. That’s a sound he thinks he could get used to.

•••

When the two of you walk back into the recording room, Eddie's neck littered with hickeys and mascara smudged around your eyes, no one says a damn word.

"'Honeycomb' take three anyone?" Eddie asks.

[bloodibambiidoll]

Situations

90s!Guitarist Eddie Munson x Lead Singer/Guitarist!Reader

(Collab with my love @bimbobaggins69 read her part Here)

Summary: You and your Girlfriend’s all girl band Arwen get the opportunity to open for up and coming band Corroded Coffin. When the guitarist and his boyfriend catch the eye of you and your girlfriend, you can’t help but hope theres more fun in store after the show. WK:2.2k

Warnings:Eventual smut(foursome), wlw x mlm polyamory, drinking, cigarette smoking, girls kissing, wlw fluff, flirting. 18+MDNI Divider used is by @firefly-graphics

Adrenaline rushed through you as you pushed open the heavy bar doors, the muggy air flooding your senses. Your feet slightly stuck to the beer stained floor, the smell of cigarettes and the faint smell of weed bringing a smile to your face. You were always pumped before playing a show with your band, getting to be up there with your friends and your girlfriend was the highlight of your life. But you were especially excited tonight. You were opening for a more popular band and as your eyes scanned the room you could tell it was going to be the largest crowd you’ve ever played for.

The closer it got to your set the prospect of being up there in front of all these people made your body buzz. That wasn’t the only thing that had you so excited though, you were hoping there was some fun in store for you after the show as well. Right before you came in you had stopped outside to smoke a pre-show cigarette and while you were standing there you saw one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.

He was standing on the sidewalk in front of the bar, smoking a cigarette of his own and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. When you first looked up at him his plump pink lips formed into a smirk, his dark eyes shamelessly raking over your body. You returned his smirk, your own eyes drinking in his form. His curly hair that touched his shoulders looked soft to the touch, he had eyeliner smudged around his large eyes, making them look sultry. His upper half was adorned in a leather jacket with nothing underneath, the front left open to reveal his tattoo covered torso and chest. His large fingers that held his cigarette were adorned with chunky silver rings, and when your eyes traveled down you saw he was wearing distressed black jeans and chunky black boots. You couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him.

You held eye contact with him while you stomped your cigarette out, wiggling your fingers at him in a small wave and flashing him a wink before heading inside. If tonight went how you were hoping, you would fucking rock the show, and afterwards you and your girl could have some fun with a really hot metal head. You know she was going to think he was just as sexy as you did.

You look around the room until your eyes land on your girlfriend, sitting at the bar looking as pretty as ever. You walk up behind her, wrapping your arms around her shoulders, nuzzling your nose into her sweet smelling neck.

“Hey baby, you ready to start setting up?” You ask her as you flash her the kind of smile that was reserved for her alone.

“Yeah pretty girl, let’s go.” She stands from the barstool and places a sticky lip gloss kiss on your cheek, wrapping her arm around your waist as you lead her back stage.

You and her shuffle into the small “dressing room” which was really just a staff room that they added a single vanity and a couch into. You strip yourself of your regular clothes, pulling your stage outfit out of your bag so you can change. The black leather skirt you chose to wear tonight was about as mini as it could get without your entire ass hanging out. Your shirt isn’t a shirt at all but just black skull nipple pasties, you and all the girls decided to wear them tonight. You were all about shock value. You pull on your shiny black platform boots and attempt to fasten the bat harness that sits just under your tits but you can’t quite get it, having to ask your girlfriend for help.

You look around the room at your band, a smile spreading across your face. Your beautiful girlfriend, Sage, in her little pink mini skirt, those pasties that you honestly just want to rip off. You knew she was nervous about hitting her new baseline tonight but you also knew she would rock it. Your drummer, Chrissy, and her girlfriend, Rotten Robin, who made the keyboard sound more metal than you ever thought possible were also adorning pasties of their own.

You felt good. Confident. You knew the lyrics to your songs like the back of your hand, you could play the guitar riffs in your sleep. You guys were going to blow the crowd away. You always had faith in your girls. Once everyone was dressed and ready to go you all grabbed your instruments and headed to the side stage to wait for your queue.

You could tell Sage was nervous, reaching out to grab her hand and rub soothing circles on it. She seemed to calm down momentarily between your touch and Chrissy’s encouragement, that is until Robin, who meant well, reminded her of the amount of people waiting for you to step on that stage.

“Baby, don’t be nervous, you’re going to fucking nail that baseline and everyone here is going to fucking love us. We’ve got this.” You smile at her sweetly, giving her hand a squeeze when the stage manager lets you know it’s show time.

Chrissy counts you down from three, playing the first drum beats. You strum your first chords, belting out the lyrics to your first song of the night. People immediately go crazy, jumping, head banging, even a few familiar faces from previous shows in the crowd singing along to the words. It brought a huge smile to your face. Your confidence increased as the songs went on.

Arwen was known for putting on a show, always. Dancing seductively with your instruments, you’ve been told more than once that the way your lips move against the microphone when you sing was alluring. The nipple pasties just upped the game.

“Thank you guys so much for coming out!! I know most of you are here to see Corroded Coffin, let’s hear it for them for having us tonight!!” The crowd erupts with cheers. “We only have two songs left for you so I hope you enjoy them!”

Robin starts this song, and as she plays her opening solo you let your guitar swing behind your back, walking a few feet across the stage to your girlfriend and pulling her close.

“You’re gonna rock this solo baby girl.” You whisper in her ear so only she hears, pulling back to grab her face and planting a wet kiss on her lips. She lets her tongue lick across your bottom lip and you immediately grant her access. Your sweaty bodies sticking together as everyone cheered. It wasn’t an Arwen show if you and your girlfriend didn’t kiss at least once on stage.

“Thank you guys, we have been Arwen!!!” You yell into the mic as your last song comes to an end. You scan the crowd, catching the eye of the guy from outside. There’s a guy next to him that’s just as cute but very much his opposite whispering in his ear and it makes you bite your lip. You decide to blow him a little kiss on your way off stage, earning a Cheshire Cat smirk from him in return. You ran off stage, jumping and giggling with your band.

“You guys that was fucking awesome!! That was definitely the best show we’ve ever put on!” You gush. “And you absolutely nailed that baseline you’ve been working on, I told you you would.” You nudge her arm with yours, a lustful look in your eye as your eyes roamed her form.

“Yeah, yeah I know, I should listen to you more.” She playfully rolls her eyes at you, wrapping her arms around your waist and placing little kisses on your neck, making you giggle. She lets you know she’s off to get drinks. You give her your order before following the hall to the back door, pushing it open and letting the cool air hit your overheated skin.

The heavy door slams shut behind you and you let out a deep breath, letting your sticky back rest against the brick wall behind you.

“That was a fucking awesome performance.” A voice came from the left of you, deep and husky, and when you looked over you saw the guy. He was even more beautiful up close, big round eyes with eyeliner you wanted to smudge even more and another cigarette perched between his soft looking pink lips. The septum piercing he had fit him perfectly, and leather jacket hanging open just enough for you to be able to see that his nipples were pierced, fuck.

“Yeah?” You smirk at him, turning towards him, your shoulder resting against the brick and your arms crossed, pushing your pasty covered tits together. “You think so? I honestly think it was the best show we’ve ever played. I’m damn proud of my girls.”

“Yeah you were fucking awesome, you all were, but your guitar skills are good as hell and your voice is insane. Also, Arwen? If that’s in reference to what I think it is I might fall in love with you.” Damn, he’s bold. But so are you.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You shoot him a wink. “If you’re thinking Lord Of The Rings, then yes that’s exactly what it’s in reference to. A nerdy metal head? Just my type.”

You lean down and pull out the pack of cigarettes you had tucked into your boot, not noticing your mystery man stepping closer to you. When you stood back up you jumped at his proximity.

“Geez! You scared the shit out of me, what are you a rogue or something? Give a girl a warning signal next time, damn!” You giggled when you said it, so he knew you were just messing with him but he was stuck on the fact that you definitely just made a D&D reference.

“You play D&D?” He raised an eyebrow at you, reaching for your pack before you can, pulling out one of your cigarettes and holding it up to your lips. You take it in your mouth, making sure your lips brush his fingers. You let him hold his lighter out to you, lighting it for you.

“Yeah, me and the girls, we have a few other people in our group but I’m the DM.” You take a pull from your cigarette, blowing the smoke in his face.

“Damn no way? I’m the DM for my group too. Did somebody cook up my dream girl in a factory or something? If I’m a rouge does that make you an elven metal head princess?” His eyes were wide, his cheeks dusted a light pink at his own confession. He was adorable.

“You’re cute.” You giggle, playfully hitting his combat boot clad foot with your own. “I gotta go find my band but maybe we can meet up later?”

“Yeah, you wanna meet here?”

“Sure thing, catch ya later cutie.” You stomp your cigarette, walking away from him with a smirk and a finger wave for the second time that night.

“I will be counting down the seconds, elven princess!!” He yells after you and you chuckle, yeah, he was really fucking adorable.

You pop into the green room to try and find Sage but she wasn’t there so you set off into the crowd of people squished together in the room to try and find her. You look over at the bar and don’t see her, figuring she must’ve already grabbed the drinks you start to weave through the crowd, keeping your eyes peeled for her. You ended up getting caught up in a conversation with a few nice girls who had been to your previous shows. They gushed over your performance and how cute you and your girlfriend were together.

“Baby, there you are!” Your head whipped around at the sound of her voice, your girl walking towards you still adorning her stage outfit. Between how she looked tonight and your mystery guy you could feel your panties dampening already.

“Oh my god, babe!! I was just talking to the literal hottest guy!!” You grab your drink from her, taking a large sip.

“What! No way? I was also just talking to the hottest guy. What did he look li-“ she started to ask you but she was cut off by the sound of Corroded Coffin being announced, the room filing with cheers.

You clapped along with them. You’ve heard some of the band's music before but you had no idea what they looked like so when he stepped out on stage you nearly lost it. He had a guitar swung over his back and he had ditched his jacket. Fuck.

“That's the guy!!!” You and Sage shouted in unison. But when you looked over at her she was pointing at the singer, the more grunge looking guy who you saw the metal head whispering to during your performance. He wasn’t normally your type but something about him was doing it for you.

They started playing and you didn’t think this guy could get any hotter but when he got really into one of his solos his tongue stuck out of his mouth and he had a fucking tongue ring. It didn’t hurt that he was also an amazing guitar player. You and your girlfriend were gushing back and forth when Robin came up behind you abruptly gasping the lead singer's name. She told you that he was one of her closest friends and your mystery guy, Eddie, was his boyfriend.

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun.” You look at Sage with a devilish grin that she returns, definitely thinking the same thing you were.

[meet-me-backstage]

🜸

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night - you're considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout's local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there, the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.

However, you don't warm to him so easily - in fact, you don't warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn't hesitate to make it known, leading to a cold rejection from you.

Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.

You hate each other... but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie's bandmates with the intention of bringing you two together and harmony between the bands.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, sexual innuendos, mention of blood, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍, some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 🎸 10K words.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 🎸 bad language, angst, mention of smut, blood, mention and consumption of drugs and alcohol.

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐱, 𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐞 𝐈 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐨𝐫 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 ‘𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐨𝐫 ‘𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬’ ��𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!)… 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭!

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 • 𝟑𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 • 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

'He's just a loser with a guitar.'

'You're a dick but I think I've fallen in love with you.'

'I fucking hate you Eddie Munson.'

'No I don't.'

You stare down at your lyric book with tired eyes, trying to decipher the scribbles of words that you'd crossed out and areas where you'd pressed the pen so hard against the paper that you ripped away some of it. They were all lines that you'd written over the weekend, ever since you'd gotten home from almost fucking Eddie Munson outside the Hideout, from realising that he had been the most beautiful guy you'd ever met and from crying so hard about him that you thought your eyes may fall out due to being so exhausted.

Elektra, Alyssa and Cherie are sat in the back room that had once been only yours, you can't help but think about how much the dynamic had changed since Corroded Coffin had stumbled through the doors behind you - you'd been so occupied with them that you realised that you hadn't even spoken to your band since last Friday...

Since I fucked it all up... I used to tell them everything... they're my best friends, my only friends - well, maybe not anymore since I've kept secrets and treated them like complete garbage... but we were always there for each other at school - always, surely they'll forgive me? I don't know, maybe Saturday night was the last straw, maybe I've fucked up one too many times.

You hear Cherie's voice through the door, it's muffled, but loud and it snaps you away from your thoughts.

You quickly slam your lyric book shut in your hand and take a deep breath that lasts for about five seconds before exhaling...

I've got nothing to lose now... I just hope Alyssa kept her word about not telling Elektra and Cherie what happened between me and Eddie.

With a determined stare, you head straight for the door like a missile to it's target, your worn and cracked black leather boots, as usual, thudding on the old floorboards of the Hideout. They can hear your footsteps because as soon as you start walking their voices go quiet, immediately knowing that it is you who had just entered the bar rather than a drunk that has nothing to do apart from sit at the bar and drink all day on a Monday.

You knock on the door, your knuckles brushing against the red tape that label the initials of yours and Eddie's bands on it.

Elektra clears her throat, you assume it's her because a few seconds later she calls out to you, "Come on in!" She didn't sound like her usual self who would crack a joke or dirty innuendo whenever you would walk into the room, starting band practice with a bellow of laughter from all four of you.

You grip onto the handle of the door, your forehead almost touching the wood before you slowly push it open, revealing your bandmates one by one.

Alyssa is sat on the manky rug in the middle of the room, tapping away at it with her drumsticks loosely gripped by her hands. Elektra is stood by Alyssa wielding her black and purple Jackson Dinky electric guitar, she's staring down at it so you can't see her face because her black hair, identical to Alyssa's, which is styled into a shorter mullet than her younger sister's, is falling in front of her green eyes, also identical to Alyssa's. Then, lastly, you see Cherie, with her bleach blonde hair as bright as ever, she is sat on the couch with her black Danelecto 58 Longhorn bass guitar nestled in the space beside her.

"Hi," you sigh, stepping into the room and gently setting your guitar case down beside you before turning around and shutting the door. The creak of the door being closed completely grabs all three of your bandmate's attention. They all look disappointed, confused, disheartened and it's all so quiet suddenly, Alyssa's drum beat couldn't be heard, Elektra is holding tightly to the neck of her guitar and Cherie has her mouth tightly shut. "Sorry I'm late," you mumble.

"Again," Elektra adds, rolling her eyes after.

You blow a puff of air out of your mouth, glancing down at your boots, briefly thinking about the words you'd rehearsed for them all day yesterday. "I - er I know - I'm sorry - I'm letting you guys down. I've been a real selfish bitch the last few weeks-," you sigh out with a nervous chuckle before your eyes flicker between all three of your friends, "I'm completely aware of that now and I'm sorry - so fuckin' sorry. I've not listened to you, I've been slacking at band practice, I've kept you in the dark, I've not been a good friend and I almost got us kicked out of here by Keith... I know now that it's all my fault - not Corroded fuckin' Coffin's... I - I guess I just didn't want to admit that I'm not as good as I thought."

"But you are, V," Cherie, who is, as usual, your number one fan even after letting her down.

Both Alyssa and Elektra nod in agreement with Cherie. "Exactly - that's why we're all so confused," Elektra, confesses. "You've never ever let us down in all the years that we've played together - so why are you now?" She pleads for an answer, accentuating her words by pointing the neck of her guitar at you.

You fiddle with your fingers, picking at the already chipped black nail varnish on your left index finger because you hadn't exactly prepared to answer that exact question. "I dunno - but I promise I won't fuck up any more than I already have, okay?" You look at each of your bandmates earnestly.

Elektra shakes her head while looking you dead in the eye, "Why're you avoiding the question?"

"I'm not!" You retort defensively.

"Vamp," Elektra states sternly, raising her thin dark eyebrows at you.

You realise again that you're acting the exact opposite way that you'd promised not to act, "Sorry - sorry - I er - I guess it's the... the competition." You bring a hand up to your forehead and shake your head at yourself, "It got to my head because - we've always been the band of weirdos who play metal music here every night without fail - and then suddenly these even weirder weirdos come into the picture and-," you let your hand fall from your forehead back down to your side, "We're not the only ones anymore and I felt - threatened by 'em because it was always just us... but I should've known that it wouldn't stay that way forever."

Elektra and Cherie nod in unison, but Alyssa stays completely still and silent which attracts your attention.

"Can I talk to you for a second, Al?" You take a step towards her while pointing your thumb over your shoulder towards the door behind you.

Alyssa looks at you, still hurt by what she'd seen you doing with Eddie on Saturday as her eyes are sunken in from not sleeping and her lips are pointing downwards at both corners of her mouth. She shakes her head, "Whatever you've got to say, you can say it here because we're a team - that's what a band is, right?"

You exhale through your nose, nodding at the same time, "Right," you mumble under your breath and fiddle with your fingers, still picking away at the black nail varnish on your nails. "I-."

Am I really going to tell them about what happened between me and Eddie?

Should I?

Yes... no... yes, no more lies, Vamp... no - I can't do it... I have to, to prove to Alyssa that I'm still as serious as I was when we first formed our alliance in school... besides, what happened between me and Eddie - it was nothing, it meant nothing... but if it meant nothing, why would I tell them? As far as Eddie is concerned, it never happened and we're never gonna kiss again, he sure seemed determined about that... I should forget about it all too, and I should definitely forget about how good it felt to kiss his lips...

You realise that your silence is raising suspicion from Elektra and Cherie, who are examining you wearily with crossed arms and expectant looks on their faces now, while Alyssa is nodding for you to just spit your words out... probably urging you to blurt out your undying love for Eddie Munson, to admit that your judgment of him and his band had been entirely wrong - therefore ending the little feud between Stake For My Valentine and Corroded Coffin that you'd caused so that she and Gareth could run into the sunset together finally.

I admit that I'd been wrong to try and stop Alyssa from having feelings for him... even though I still don't understand why of all the weirdos and freaks she fell for Gareth - I mean, I guess he is kinda cute and can play the drums like a champ... plus he's totally her number one fan - I'm sure if I asked him, Alyssa would be his favorite drummer of all time... so who am I to deny a friend her happiness for the sake of Eddie fuckin' Munson?

You look at Alyssa with big, apologetic eyes. She is still silently pleading with you, holding her drumsticks in a vice-like grip while she waits for your words. "I just wanted to-," you shake your head, closing your eyes for a moment before staring at Alyssa again, "I owe you an extra apology, Al - I'm - so - sorry about what happened the other night-."

"Wait - what happened the other night exactly?" Elektra asks with a quizzical look on her face, her petite nose scrunching up slightly as she stares down at Alyssa.

Alyssa sheepishly looks between you and her big sister, clearly feeling guilty for keeping what she had seen occur between you and Eddie a secret from her own flesh and blood... "Al did nothing wrong, El - I'm not gonna let her take the flack when it was all me." Elektra drags her eyes away from Alyssa to you, still with her arms crossed. Her pale face with dark eyeliner around her piercingly light green eyes intimidate you, making you break eye contact and instead you focus on your fingers still chipping away at your nail varnish, "I - I did something really - really - really fuckin' stupid."

Cherie furrows her fair brows, looking at Elektra, who looks back at her, confirming that they are just as confused as the other person.

"What did you do, V?" Cherie asks, tearing her longing eyes away from Elektra to look at you again.

You don't have to lift your head up to know that all six of your bandmate's eyes combined are staring into your soul right now... I need to just spit it out right now. You gulp, struggling to speak because you're too busy trying to relax your heartbeat and choking on your spit that had gathered in your mouth from trying to process words that just refused to leave your mouth, "I - I-."

"Vamp," Elektra interrupts before uncrossing her arms lazily, "If we don't have trust anymore we've got nothing left - so we may as well call it quits-."

Your neck snaps up so quickly to meet eyes with your bandmates that you almost get whiplash from the desperation because you are not ready to give up on this band yet, and definitely not because of a reason that doesn't even exist anymore - I mean nothing to Eddie and he means nothing to me... and Stake For My Valentine mean everything to me. "I-made-out-with-Eddie-after-his-gig-on-saturday-because-he-wrote-the-most-beautiful-song-for-me-and-also-Rodrick-was-making-out-with-some-girl-he-met-that-night-I-think-and-Alyssa-saw-the-entire-thing-oh-and-I-made-our-fifteen-fans-hate-us-because-Rodrick-got-me-drunk-the-night-before-and-I-called-them-all-assholes-for-going-to-Corroded-Coffin's-first-gig-here-."

All three of your bandmates look entirely bewildered by your rambling, with wide eyes and their mouths hung open in shock that your mouth could move so fast.

Cherie's back has thrusted forward away from the couch, leaning closer to you as if it can help her try to understand what you are saying, but she realises that she can't because she uses her hands to motion you to calm down and stop talking, "Woah woah woah, slow down, V!”

Elektra nods in agreement with Cherie. "I think I can vouch for us all by saying that we got none of that," Elektra gestures to Cherie and Alyssa, who nod in agreement, "Could you start again and maybe - step on the break a little for us?"

You nod, staggered breaths leaving your mouth while trying to catch as much air as possible because your rambling has left you pretty light-headed, "Okay - okay." Deep breaths, Vamp - here goes nothing... you bring one of your hands up to scratch the back of your neck, "I sorta made out with Eddie after his gig on Saturday-."

"You sorta what?!" Elektra blurts out before covering her mouth with one of her hands, her silver bangles around her wrist clashing loudly against each other from the speed.

You nervously glance at Cherie, who had loudly gasped at your confession, before acknowledging Alyssa, who also looked shocked that you'd actually told them. You give Alyssa a small nod before audibly inhaling another long breath, "Yeah er - I came onto him after he er - I mean - after I saw Rodrick with another girl-."

"But - I thought you hated Eddie?" Cherie asks, completely gobsmacked.

"So did I," Elektra adds while Alyssa mumbles a sorrowful 'me too' in sync with her sister.

"I do," you gulp, fleetingly looking down at the stained rug underneath your feet, "I do hate him," you repeat with much more assurance, though your face doesn't show it. You blink... if I just keep talking about how much I hate him they've gotta believe me eventually... "I hate him so much, he's so - he's so - ugh, everything he does just infuriates me so much that I just wanna-," kiss him so hard that it bruises his lips? Slap his cute face silly while I give him the ride of his life? Suck his soul out through his dick? Sit on his face? "Die? Yeah - he makes me wanna - die."

Huh - that has an interesting ring to it. I should write it down in my lyric book.

Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa all exchange bewildered looks. Cherie then mouths a shocked 'wow' at Elektra while Alyssa looks up at you, even more confused than she appeared to be before you’d opened your mouth about Eddie.

"I thought-," Alyssa speaks, but before she can reveal that Eddie had written a song about you, or the way that you looked at him like you look at your electric guitar... which is totally not true because I could never spare a spot alongside my Pink Special or Eddie Van Halen in my heart - there is no space for Eddie Munson in there and there never will be... you shake your head frantically.

"I - I did it to get back at Rodrick," you interrupt Alyssa boldly, defensively, lying through your teeth while trying to maintain confident eye contact with her.

"But-."

"There's no other reason, Al," You declare before chuckling nervously, "C'mon - why else would I kiss Eddie Munson?"

Alyssa's face drops a little, her eyes, rather than being wide, they are now sad again, reminding you of the disappointed look that she sent you when she left you alone with Eddie on Saturday, "Cause you like him like I like Gareth?" She suggests with a small, hopeful tone of voice.

You hear Elektra and Cherie giggling to themselves, they fill in the silence after Alyssa's suspicion towards your denial for having feelings for Eddie.

Your head continues to shake frantically in complete denial, "No - no, not like you and Gareth," you tell her with another nervous laugh after, "You and Gareth - you're perfect for each other, I understand that now and I shouldn't have gotten in the way of the two of you just because he's the drummer in a band we're in fierce competition with... but there is no me and Eddie and that's all there is to it."

You spot the glint of happiness in Alyssa's dark green eyes, but it leaves as quickly as it comes when you continue to deny anything more than indifference for Corroded Coffin and hate for Eddie Munson. It frustrates her because she saw how you danced to their music, how you gave the lead singer heart eyes throughout their entire gig and how you genuinely enjoyed yourself in the presence of Corroded Coffin despite the battle between them and Stake For My Valentine to claim the Halloween gig. She thought that you felt it too, a connection between the bands that overpowered the competition... but perhaps you weren't quite as on the same page as she thought you had been.

"So - what about Eddie?" Alyssa asks, her voice almost sounds afraid.

Your head tilts to the side and you shrug your shoulders, trying to act as casually as you can, as if you hadn't been able to get Eddie off of your mind since you cleared the air between your mouth and his… and failed, "What about 'im?"

"How does he feel about what happened?" She asks matter of factly, one of her dark brows raising at you.

It feels like your heart is sinking down your body at the reminder of how yours and Eddie's last bicker battle...

'Don't you dare follow me this time, Munson - because I won't be kissing you again!'

'Good!'

'Fantastic!'

A drawn out, quiet sigh leaves your lips, "Nothing," your shoulders hunch over slightly after you shrug them, "He hates me as much as I hate him-," you take in each of your bandmate's facial expressions and they all look completely unconvinced by your answer, "but we're both on the same page - we're here for the music. We're all here for the music, aren't we?" You question them as a way to divert their attention from you and Eddie.

All three of your bandmates hum in unison, looking amongst each other and you nod in response to their agreement.

"So we're all in this battle to win the Halloween gig back, right?" You speak entirely with confidence now, ignoring the joy that you felt when you were at Corroded Coffin's gig and completely thinking about the joy you'll feel when your fans vote Stake For My Valentine as the winners of the Battle of the Bands... if I win their loyalty back tonight.

"Right," Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa all respond in sync, nodding at the same time.

You nod slowly with a hopeful smile on your face and determination in your eyes, "Exactly, so we've gotta blow our crowd's minds tonight with epic solos and new material," you keep nodding, looking between your bandmates, who are staring at you with intense excitement in their eyes, their postures are gradually lifting from being slouched before, "We can't waste a second today so what'd ya say?" A cheeky grin spreads across your lips.

Cherie mirrors your cheeky grin before nodding eagerly, "Let's fuckin' do this," she jumps off of the couch and hops towards you while lifting her arm up, waiting for everyone else to do the band chant that the four of you usually do before a practice or gig.

Elektra steps forward and stands directly in front of you, a smile spreading across her lips too as she lifts her hand. You give her a small nod before looking down at Alyssa, who looks up at you wearily for a few moments before deciding to join the triangle that you, Elektra and Cherie had made. You all stand in a circle now with your arms lifted, your firsts balled as if you are holding wooden stakes and are about to drive them through a kneeling vampire in the middle of your circle.

"Three - two - one... watch it!" In unison, you all clench your fists, "Look behind you - beside you - inside you - don't underestimate a Vamp's power - it hides in plain sight - it hides before your eyes!" You all move your heads in the directions that you chant before dramatically tearing your eyes away from each other and looking down at the space in front of you within the circle. "Drive a stake through the heart and knock 'em dead!" You throw your arms down together as if you are going in for the killing of an imaginary vampire, a ritual that you'd all created and participated in for good luck since your very first gig at the Hideout.

The four of you cheer as if there hadn't been any tension between them and you, they're all driven by the adrenaline that the chant always gives you that would usually last until the end of a practice or a show, but this time the energy is very short-lived as your cheers fade quickly into an awkward silence.

Elektra clears her throat as realisation spreads across her features, "We don't have any new material."

"Ah ah ah - that's where you're wrong," you bring your hand that's still holding your lyric book up to your face, waving it beside your head while you smile devilishly, "I've got the perfect song for us to play tonight right here."

Elektra wraps her arms around her black and white striped t-shirt, hugging herself and pressing her fingertips into the back hem of her black leather pants, "I'm a little scared," she says with a chuckle.

"You should be," you tell her with a giggle.

⎈ 🎸 ⎈

By the time you're ready to go on stage you're high and drunk, which isn't usually a problem when you haven't been an emotional mess for days. It was what the four of you usually did during practices and before gigs just to take the edge off, to get rid of nerves and any stress or pressure. However, tonight you feel it all and with each pint of beer that you downed and each drag that you took of weed, your emotions seemed to heighten rather than lessen.

With each hour that passed during your practice, you noticed Rodrick's absence from it - he'd usually join your practice by sitting on the couch ogling you or maybe take over on the drums briefly while Alyssa took a small break. There was no sign of him today, but you were sure that he was just hiding away up in his room all day.

The four of you now are sat on the couch, squished together like a bunch of fish in a fishbowl, sharing one last joint before going on stage.

Each time you pass the joint to each other in a line that's going back and forth, you sink more into the couch with your limbs intertwined with Alyssa's and Cherie's, who are sat on either side of you.

Elektra is sat on the other side of Cherie, and has her arm flirtatiously wrapped around her... you'd have been a fool not to notice the massive crush that they had on each other since high school, fleeting looks, touches and blushes at your table in the cafeteria, so you and Alyssa weren't surprised when they announced their 'on the low' relationship when you all left school... they'd blossomed just as you had when the four of you found the Hideout because not only could they play the music they loved, the pair could also love each other and not be afraid of what anybody thought of them in a place where they could be free - you could all be free.

You can hear the bar starting to get rowdy on the other side of the door, muffled chattering, glasses clinking and music playing from the stereo... another ordinary night at the Hideout, you think with a dreamy smile, resting the back of your head on the couch... little do they know, we're about to play the goddamn bar right down.

A small knock interrupts your daydreaming and all four of you sit up in sync, staring at the door like deer in headlights.

When you see Rodrick's face peeking his head through the door and frame you feel the same boiling in your blood that you felt on Saturday when you saw him kissing someone else.

I wonder if she's here tonight?

His brown hair is more wild than usual, he's gelled it into more of a spiky texture, and is wearing what he usually wears, his old 'Löded Dyper' shirt that you woke up in on Saturday afternoon last week, a pair of ripped black jeans and his dirty black converse.

His tired, dull brown eyes flicker at you for not even a second before focusing on your bandmates, "The - stage is ready for you," he mumbles half-heartedly, refusing to even acknowledge your presence in the room before quickly shutting the door and leaving the four of you alone again.

You close your eyes and sink back into the couch while Elektra, Cherie and Alyssa exchange looks between each other, you and the door that Rodrick had disappeared behind.

Don't you dare even think about that asshole - get the fuck up off of this couch and get on that stage.

You monitor your breathing for a moment because seeing Rodrick had instantly brought that night back to you - your heated moment with Eddie. It makes your breath hitch before you take another deep breath, trying desperately to forget the existence of a certain long-haired, doe-eyed, adorable metal head...

I'll show him... I'll show them all.

"Let's fuckin' show them all what we're made of," you state before suddenly springing up off of the couch, almost tripping over the rug and falling face first onto the floor, though you manage to find your balance by taking a few quick steps towards the door.

You throw your arms out towards the door to halt yourself from head butting the wall or floor and close your eyes to brace yourself from the inevitability of falling down, but instead you find yourself hearing the door creak, opening again, and being caught in a pair of arms, "Rodrick I swear to the metal gods above I will swing my fist at your stupid face and shove my guitar up your ass," you ramble angrily, hitting your fists into his chest while your face is also nuzzled into him.

"Woah - Jesus H. - Christ - will you stop - hitting me when - I'm trying to - save you?!" You hear Eddie's voice in between your hits on his chest, but they gradually stop when you realise that it had been him who had caught you before you could fall onto the floor in front of the crowd waiting for you to take the stage.

You relax, hiding against his frame while nuzzling your nose against his chest, now realising that the texture of the shirt he's wearing is completely different to the one Rodrick is wearing... the smell is also different, while Rodrick's smells of weed and cigarettes, Eddie's also smells of weed and cigarettes - but with an added scent of musk that you could easily get used to.

"What are you doing here?" You grumble, gathering the courage to finally look up at him. To your annoyance, he looks as beautiful as ever and it takes everything in you not to wrap your arms around his neck to be even closer to him... but I know I can't... he doesn't want me anymore.

Eddie chuckles, which makes his chest sort of vibrate against your upper half, causing warmth to spread all through you, "I might not want to uh - kiss you - again... but I wasn't gonna miss your show - 'm still Stake's uh - biggest fan y'know," he looks down, huffing a small chuckle whilst blinking his eyes closed so he can avoid eye contact with you.

He can't even look at me now... which feels like a stab to your heart because you realise just now that looking into his pretty brown eyes is a privilege that you took for granted until you no longer had his eyes only on you.

You nod a little, focusing on the silver pendant sat neatly beside his red guitar pick attached to a silver chain around his neck, "No I - I meant - what are you doing here?"

"Oh uh-," his eyes trail from your boots, to your fishnet tights, to your oversized white t-shirt, to your neck, to your eyes, but you could've sworn that for a millisecond he looked at your lips, "I - uh - I wanted to uh - uh-," it's like your eyes have him under a spell because he can't look away now, it takes a massively deep breath for him to get his words out, "'S stupid - but I uh - came to say good luck - so uh - good luck."

"Thank you - I guess?" You mumble nervously, on the brink of crumbling in his arms and telling him that you do, in fact, want to kiss him again.

Eddie hums, tearing his eyes away from you at the same time you awkwardly look away from him, "I should - uh - I should go um - back to - Gareth." He looks over your head, being a head taller than you now means that it doesn't take much effort for him to look behind you, seeing your bandmates watching you both, in shock and holding onto each other for dear life.

You have to stand on your tiptoes to look over his shoulder to see that you have gained some attention from a few familiar faces that you'd see in your usual crowd from the stage - Joan looked shocked, Troy looked a tad more shocked and Victoria looked even more shocked than them combined, probably because you were in talking distance, let alone being enveloped in the arms of your competition... and on top of that, you weren't fighting to get away.

Your bottom lip falls slightly, but you have no words to say as you feel numb... the weed is definitely not helping me right now - I can't move...

Eddie watches you, appearing completely uncomfortable in his arms, horrified by his touch and the audience that you were getting from being close to him. He clears his throat, "Sorry - I uh - I didn't want an - audience either," he sighs, slowly unwrapping his arms from your waist and suddenly you feel so cold... he can't even stand to be seen near me... another stabbing sensation to your heart, you visibly shiver and falter slightly from no longer having him to lean on, which he notices, "you okay?"

So now he cares…

You give him a hard stare while the rest of your body feels numb and warm from the weed and alcohol, "Mhm fine - I'm fine," you slur unconvincingly, causing Eddie to furrow his brows at you and take a step closer only for you to step away, "Go a-away," your voice cracks and you shake your head. Eddie continues to stare at you, his facial features no longer hard or distant, now they are sad and he looks like a lost puppy that has no idea what to do or where to go, whether to help you and stay or do what you say and go... you can see the battle he's fighting in his head so you take a shaky breath, your stare at him turning into a glare, "Go."

Eddie falters, the battle in his head coming to an end as he reaches a decision, he nods and looks down at his fidgeting hands before silently turning himself around and walking away... like I told him to.

You take a harsh breath in through your nose, ignoring the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes... no no no, Vamp - I’m not gonna cry over Eddie Munson again... you exhale as steadily as you can, successfully stopping a single tear from running down your cheeks, "May the best band win, Munson!" You shout to him as he walks through the small crowd that are now only staring at you. You fight the urge to say something like 'what are you looking at?' to the entire group of onlookers that had just witnessed everything including the scene you created after Stake For My Valentine's gig last Friday...

They must think I've really gone off the rails - I've gotta prove them wrong right now...

You look over your shoulder at your bandmates, who are still sunken into the couch watching your every move, before motioning with your hand for them to join you by the door leading into the bar area. "Let's knock 'em dead," you state, referring to your chant with a forced smile, after picking up your guitar and swinging the strap over your shoulder until your Pink Special hits your lower stomach.

Elektra and Cherie walk together with their instruments in one hand and reaching for each other's spare hands, squeezing tightly while they walk and nod your way. They give each other a kiss before running up the three steps onto the platform side by side, being careful not to hit their instruments against the wall because the steps are pretty narrow for two people to be on them at the same time.

Alyssa walks your way alone, wielding her drum sticks tightly in her left hand, but before she passes you at the door she stops walking and leans her mouth close to your ear, "It's for Eddie, isn't it? Not Rodrick," she whispers before pulling away and searching your eyes for the truth.

Your eyes flicker between hers before your guard breaks at the mention of the 'new material' you'd practiced all day long, a song of the lyrics you hadn't stopped writing since the early hours of Sunday morning, "It's for Eddie," you admit under your breath, but loud enough for Alyssa to hear, with a hasty nod.

Alyssa nods with you before giving you a satisfied, closed mouthed smile, “Knew it.” She brings her right hand up to squeeze your shoulder and tips her cowboy hat to you with her left hand while holding the drumsticks, almost dropping them while doing so, making the two of you giggle together.

"Let's - knock 'em - dead," Alyssa repeats your words from before with an amused grin on her face and small giggles in between them. She then grabs your left hand with her right one, pulling you towards the stage and up the small staircase.

You grasp onto your Pink Special with your right hand, clutching the back of it's body to your hip tightly as you run up the stairs with Alyssa. You can hear claps, cheers, but they're not as loud as they had been before the battle of the bands competition had been thought up by Rodrick.

You're facing your band as you take your pink guitar pick from behind your ear and hold it between your teeth, watching your bandmates as they adjust themselves - you wait for their approval to start the first song.

You bounce on your feet, psyching yourself up physically and mentally for the next hour and fifteen minutes because you know that to gain your great, hard-working, dedicated lead singer and guitarist reputation back… I need to put everything into this.

When all three of your bandmates nod you drop your pick from your teeth and let it land in your hand before spinning on your heel to face the crowd... and it's way bigger than you thought it would be - you've got a crowd bigger than when Stake For My Valentine were the only band playing at the Hideout... granted, it is about ten more people than usual, but that makes ten more than the familiar fifteen faces that you usually see towards the front.

A dreamy smile spreads across your mouth when you strum the first chord of Light Me Up, one of the first songs that you wrote when you were a junior at Hawkins High, before you'd even met your bandmates in Stake For My Valentine... it's a fan favorite that you typically play at the end of your gig, but earlier the four of you, with some convincing on your part, decided to move to the very beginning of the setlist.

So when the fifteen familiar faces hear the A chord that sets a moody, but lively atmosphere which sends everybody into a wild frenzy, you notice them all reliving every moment that they jumped and danced to this very song with you for the last two years.

You take a quick step towards the microphone, your lips brush against it, “Hey lovers,” you mumble with a cheeky grin on your face, sending a wink to one of your most loyal fans, Joan, who is now looking at you in awe rather than in shock, “Did ya miss us?”

‘Fuck yeahs’ and ‘we missed yous’ echo throughout the room, causing you to giggle into the mic, but then you hear a ‘did you miss us?’

“Sure I did - you guys are family,” you answer, flashing Lisa, another familiar face, a toothy grin before focusing on your guitar and the instruments being played behind you, signalling you to start singing. “Does what I’m wearing seem to shock you?” You sing into the mic, widening your eyes and looking down at your outfit as if you can’t believe what you’re wearing.

Your eyes scan the crowd towards the back as you sing, but you’re very quickly distracted with the sight of Stake For My Valentine’s booth being occupied by none other than Rodrick, who isn’t alone… you assume that it’s the same girl that he was kissing before, but as you look closer, you can see that it’s not now because she has much longer black hair, while the girl from before had mid-length chestnut brown hair…

so I really was just another name on his list of sex conquests?

That thought alone makes you stutter your lyrics, which diverts Rodrick’s attention from the girl sat opposite him to you. He’s leaning over the table, his face just inches away from her’s, but he continues to stare at you with a devious grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I’ve got it on my mind to change my ways,” you sing as your stare on Rodrick hardens. You suck in the anger that you feel, expressing it through your strong voice, “But I don’t think I can be anything other than me - No I don’t think I can be anything other than me.”

Rodrick glares back at you, but is forced to drag his eyes away from you because the girl he’s with grabs his shirt by the neckline and pulls him in for a messy kiss… though his eyes are open and looking at you the entire time his tongue is in her mouth.

“Do you think it’s right - when you knock me to the ground,” your eyelids flutter shut and you turn your face away from Rodrick, instead, putting all of your focus into the dancing crowd directly in front of you, “Well - light me up when I’m down!”

A bunch of your dedicated fans and your bandmates start to sing the chorus with you, “Light me up when I’m down!” An unconscious grin forms on your lips while you sing the line, you bob your head which makes your hair fly crazily in every direction possible.

You’re having the time of your life with your bandmates and your fans, all dancing wildly together and you feel as though, through your music, you’ve made up with them all… like everything you ever did to let them down had been erased by how metal your performance was. Like you’d promised yourself earlier today, you put every fibre of your being into throwing yourself around the stage, your singing and guitar solos… so by the time you’ve reached the end of the second to last song on your setlist, sweat is dripping from your forehead, all four of your limbs are numb and you’re completely exhausted.

You breathe heavily before laughing breathlessly into the microphone because as you stagger towards it you almost fall, but catch yourself by grabbing onto the microphone stand, “Woah - that was close, huh?”

The small crowd cheers in agreement, laughing with you.

“Okay,” you sigh, taking another few desperate breaths to try and calm your frantic heartbeat, “We’ve got one last song for you tonight!”

Another loud cheer in response to you.

You grin mischievously, wrapping your left hand, which is clammy with sweat, around the neck of your guitar while your right one keeps a grip on the microphone stand to keep you stable, “Do you dare to hear it?”

A few screams can be heard from the front, while everyone else cheers again (apart from Rodrick and his most recent fuck buddy, but you don’t give a shit about either of them).

“Well you better because it’s a new little treat-,” you state in a playfully stern tone, scanning the many faces in the crowd, but your eyes unexpectedly land on Eddie’s starstruck one towards the back of the cluster of people before you, “From me to you,” you maintain eye contact with Eddie, the adrenaline buzzing through your body stopping you from being too nervous to admit it. Your fans express their excitement through more cheers, but Eddie’s jaw drops a little and is frozen, just like you had been when he sang his song for you, “Here goes - you make me wanna die.”

You look over your shoulder at Alyssa and nod your head before she hits her drumsticks together, “three - two - one!”

You and Alyssa begin the song together, she starts with a steady beat on the bass drum that accompanies your guitar, you strum a strong, quick and melodious chord pattern that you repeat twice, all while banging your head and stomping your boots down onto the platform in time with Alyssa’s beat, before Elektra and Cherie join you and Alyssa’s playing.

“Take me, I’m alive - never was a girl with a wicked mind - but everything looks better when the sun goes down-,” you continue nodding your head in time to Alyssa’s beat while you sing with your eyes shut, “I had everything - opportunities for eternity - and I could belong to niiiiight!” You end the line with a gradual pitch change in your voice that sounds as smooth as velvet. “Then your eyes, your eyes-,” you sing alone during the bridge of the song, grasping the strings of your Pink Special tightly so they don’t make any sound. Your eyes open and you flutter your eyelashes, swiftly accustoming to the dim spotlight facing the stage, “I can see in your eyes, your eyes,” you find yourself singing softly into the microphone while staring into the pair of brown doe eyes that inspired this song, “everything in your eyes, your eyes-.” Eddie’s lips tug upward now while he looks at you like you’re some kind of angel, it causes a cheeky smile to appear on your lips during the pause between your lines because he was looking at you the same exact way when he first saw you on this stage, “You make me wanna die,” the words come out of you dramatically as you continue to cheekily smile at Eddie, who looks completely gobsmacked now.

Now he knows how I felt when he sang about how much he fuckin’ hated me… and called me a bitch.

“I’ll never be good enough - you make me wanna die - and everything you love will burn up in the light - and every time I look inside your eyes-,” you sing as you throw yourself around with your guitar, swinging your head uncontrollably before freezing in front of the microphone with your hair all over your face and noticing Eddie and Gareth jumping wildly and bobbing their heads to your music, “you make me wanna die!”

You go back to stomping your feet, strumming quick chords on your Pink Special while Alyssa goes back to just using the bass drum to create the same steady beat and melody you played for the intro.

You stare intensely at Eddie which immediately grabs his attention as if you’ve put him in a trance-like state, he stops dancing with Gareth and turns his entire body to face you again, “Taste me, drink my soul-,” Eddie’s mouth parts at your words, making you giggle a little while you sing them, “Show me all the things that I shouldn’t know - when there’s a blue moon on the riiiiise!”

You spin yourself around with your guitar in hand before repeating the bridge of your new song and going into the chorus again, just focusing on the singing and screaming coming from in front of you… you’re sure that no other song of yours has gotten this much of a reaction from the crowd - it almost feels like your second big break, the first being getting your first gig at the Hideout.

After that it’s time for your final guitar solo tonight, which you completely make up as you go along by just closing your eyes, feeling the heat of the room and the vibrations of all the instruments playing behind you… the pitched blackness of closing your eyes allows you to completely concentrate on the music, it’s almost as if it’s only you and your Pink Special in the room. Your nimble fingers slide up and down the neck of your guitar with ease and without you having to even peek an eye open at what you’re doing before ending the solo by shrieking out a high note and using the whammy bar to bend the sound, letting it fade with a light vibration that tingles up your hands and arms.

You can’t feel a thing in your body apart from the tingling sensation from your guitar after that… maybe it’s the weed, the beer, or the metal solo that just flew out of me… your hair is wet and sticking to your forehead and you start to feel dizzy from the fire that is burning your insides. You lazily try to shake your head out of this sudden wooziness, which is spreading to each of your limbs, making your sweat fly off of you…

I’ve gotta get through this - just nine more lines - I can do it!

“I - would die for you, my love - my love,” you sing in a slurred way because even your mouth is exhausted. Your voice that is usually strong, but angelic and smooth, is now weak, “I would - lie for you, my love - my - my-,” you blink profusely, suddenly unable to get your words out that you so desperately wanted to say because your heart is pounding and your brain is fuzzy.

All you can remember in that moment is your song coming to a messy stop.

Alyssa, Cherie and Elektra stop playing their instruments and all that can be heard are gasps and static coming from the amps at the back of the stage.

Then Rodrick, he’s suddenly at the side of the stage pulling out each of your bandmate’s instrument cables from their amps… then lastly he pulls your Pink Special’s cable out of your amp while shouting out for everyone to hear, “Stake For My Valentine are disqualified!”

Your face turns from shock, to horror, then to fury at Rodrick, “I’m - gonna fuck-ing get you - asshole!” You stammer weakly before using the last of your energy to stride towards him, ready to punch his lights out, but on your way you trip over the loose cable that’s still connected to your guitar. It all happens so quickly and you’re completely blind with rage that you don’t notice the dark wire as your right foot catches it, making you stumble forward and hit your knee against the corner of one of the amps by the stairs.

Rodrick, whose eyes are wide from the sight before him, still has that evil glint in them that makes you want to hit him even more.

Though your knee is starting to bleed, the pain hasn’t quite made itself known yet… you’re so numb and tired in your body that you can’t even feel it. However, you can feel yourself falling towards Rodrick after ricocheting off of the amps, and your first thought is of your guitar, so you grasp onto it as tightly as you can, hoping that Rodrick would save you, or at least cushion the fall… but he doesn’t, he moves out of the way.

You fall on your own, determined to keep a tight grasp on your beloved Pink Special while you dart past the steps and collide with the wooden floor below. You can hear muffled calls of your name, footsteps running around you. You can’t bring yourself to move from being so tired and every bone in your body is aching from being so active on stage.

“Vamp?!” You hear Eddie’s voice, which sounds like a plea as he kneels beside you and grasps onto your shoulders, he shakes them frantically but very quickly realises that it’s not helping you in the slightest.

He leans further down, placing the side of his face against the floor so that he’s face to face with you. Your eyelids are fluttering and you can just about see him, but even your vision is blurred and your eyes are fatigued so he looks like a wobbly blob with curly brown hair at the moment.

You feel Eddie’s rough fingertips touch your cheekbone and temple, soothingly rubbing your skin, but he pauses his movements when Rodrick speaks, “She’s cool, man - just give her a minute.”

You hear Eddie mumble angrily under his breath before he straightens his back and turns his upper half in the direction of Rodrick, “Does she look like she’s cool to you?!” He shrieks sarcastically.

Rodrick shrugs, awkwardly scratching the top of his head, “I dunno - but I’m not havin’ her in my bed, it’s reserved for - Maisy here,” he admits while gesturing towards his fuck-buddy for the night.

“It’s Daisy!” The girl sassily corrects him, crossing her arms before muttering ‘fuck this’ under her breath and leaving the circle of your friends, fans and Rodrick around you.

“Looks like she just cancelled her reservation for tonight,” Elektra jokingly states, though there is an undertone of hate in her voice.

“Stillllll, it’s a no,” Rodrick responds with a pop of his lips.

“Well she can’t just stay here on the floor all night, Rodrick!” Cherie, who is sat on the floor behind you, shouts worriedly up at Rodrick.

Rodrick shrugs, “I don’t have the time for this, my dad is back in the mornin’ for the gig tomorrow and everything has gotta be in order so I’ve gotta tidy shit up… just - get ‘er outta here,” he speaks like you laying on the floor after everything he’d done to you is not his problem, before turning away from you and proceeding to casually clear some glasses that had been left on the bar.

Despite how exhausted you are, you can just about see all the glares that Rodrick is being given by everyone around you… it is silent, nobody knows how to respond to his cruelty and lack of care towards you.

Eddie’s fingertips feel even hotter against your face from the anger and frustration that is radiating off of him. Your eyes flicker up at his larger frame that’s towering over you comfortingly, but no matter how comforted you are by his touch, or how tired you are, a tear falls from your eye and touches Eddie’s thumb on your cheekbone, which he immediately notices and unclenches his other hand that is balled into a fist and ready to punch Rodrick in the face. His facial features go from being hard with anger at the way that Rodrick had just spoken about you, to going soft at the sight of you so exhausted and hurt below him.

“E-ddie - I - I wanna go - home - please,” you manage to mumble before your glossy eyes slowly close and everything goes quiet, sending you into a deep sleep while you’re in the exact same position that you fell, on top of your Pink Special in the middle of the Hideout.

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

⎈ 🎸 ⎈

The sound of an engine soothes you in your sleep, along with the small bumps that are being driven over that rock you gently… that is until there’s a sudden bump that causes your upper half jolt forward slightly before falling back against the car seat.

“Shit,” you hear Eddie mumble under his breath.

You start to stir in your sleep and your eyelids slowly flutter open.

Your head is bowed down to your left, facing the driver’s seat, where Eddie is sat. He looks extremely concentrated, like he is trying desperately not to wake you by doing something stupid like driving too recklessly… which is entirely not in his nature because it is famously known around the town that he is a dangerous driver and has been issued with many warnings by Hawkins Police since he first got his licence.

The windows had been rolled open to let as much air in as possible, which has calmed your temperature down by a lot and is blowing your now dry hair away from your face. You slowly bring your hand up to your forehead, rubbing it while you watch Eddie drive.

He notices your movement and looks away from a familiar dark lane he’s driving down to get a small glimpse of you, “You had me - us worried y’know?”

You blink your eyes open wider, though they’re still half-closed, “Where - are we going?” You ask in a strained voice, furrowing your brows.

“‘M taking you home,” he answers, looking back at the road, “You fell off the stage, y’remember that right?”

Realisation spreads across your features as you recall your gig, playing your song for Eddie, Rodrick disqualifying Stake For My Valentine, falling off of the stage and asking Eddie to take you home. “Yeah - yeah, I remember,” you sigh, looking directly ahead of you at the road, recognising shops like Family Video and the community pool that you live nearby. He turns his van to the left into the block that you live in, which causes you to look at him quizzically.

Eddie chuckles, knowing exactly what you’re thinking, “Alyssa told me where you live - don’t worry, I’ve not been stalking you or anything.”

You hum in response, too tired to even think of a sassy response.

While Eddie drives somewhat carefully, you take the time to look at your surroundings. You notice empty bags pretzels on the floor, tapes scattered everywhere around the van and a picture stuck to the rear view mirror of a pretty woman with dark curly hair just like Eddie’s, she’s holding a little boy in her arms on her lap… it must be an old photo of him and his mom - cute.

Eddie hits another bump accidentally which makes your knee that hit the amp move slightly, nudging it against the van door and making you wince quietly… now I can feel it - the pain.

“Shit shit shit,” Eddie curses at himself, hitting the steering wheel before glancing at your fishnets which are now ripped at your knee, “Sorry about that.”

You let out a strained huffing noise before examining your knee and the dried blood surrounding the wound right in the middle of your kneecap. You lazily slide your hand down your thigh, unknowing of Eddie’s eyes following it’s every move, to the open gash you’d gained from your fall.

“Don’t touch it!” Eddie squawks suddenly, taking a hand off of the steering wheel and swatting your hand away.

“Jeez,” you giggle uneasily before leaning back into your seat and focusing on Eddie driving again, “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you cared about me or somethin’,” you mumble softly, referring to his words from the other night with a small smug smile.

He looks at you knowingly as he brings his hand back to the steering wheel before shaking his head, exhaling and looking ahead of him, “I do actually - ‘s kinda annoying how much,” he mumbles under his breath.

“What did you say?” You ask, dumbfounded, because you were still slow and tired from the eventful night you’d had.

“Oh - nothin’,” he answers quickly, he takes another glance at your knee and gestures with his thumb over his seat to the back of his van, “I’ve got a first aid kit handy at the back we can use to clear your knee up when we get to your place so - just leave it alone for now, m’kay?”

You nod a little, “Okay,” you answer softly.

Watching Eddie drive, to your surprise, is so calming. You admire the way that his tongue is peeking past his lips in concentration, the way his hair blows in the wind and how he grips onto the steering wheel, his fingers overlapping his thumb because his hands are pretty big… they’d also look pretty nice wrapped around my ne- you notice him smiling at you finally answering him without you backchatting or making a sarcastic comment.

He senses your eyes on him, which makes his heart pound, so he takes a deep breath and is in the midst of turning his head to take another glance at the beautiful sight of you in his van again, causing you to quickly look away from him. Your sudden movement scares him and instinctively he looks back at the road, settling to just enjoying the feeling of you being beside him and maybe stealing a couple of glances at you as you continue to look around his van curiously.

He tries not to hyperventilate about the fact that you are beside him… in his van - alone. He’d not stopped thinking about you or your hands touching him since the moment you left him alone outside the Hideout… you’d been the one in his head, in his thoughts, in his dreams whenever he slept, ate, walked, worked - all the damn time. It was worse enough before he’d found out how it felt to kiss you, but now that he knew he was going crazy, so crazy that he found himself wrapping his hand around his cock every night to the thought of you… even thinking about what it would be like if you would just let him love you.

His thoughts are interrupted when he notices you turning your upper half to take a peek at the back of his van, which causes his eyes to widen, “Wait - wait, Vamp - I wouldn’t look back there if I were you-.”

You furrow your brows at him, looking at him being so incredibly suspicious right now, sweat is practically forming under his eyebrows, “Why not? You got a secret porn stash back there or somethin’?”

“No - j-just - don’t move your head too much, you’ll hurt it,” he stutters nervously.

“My head is already hurt,” you remind him with a hint of sass in your voice.

“Right,” Eddie sighs at himself before looking around the front of his van for anything to distract you with, “Oh - hey, I’ve got these cool stickers over here,” he points at his dashboard, where he’s messily stuck them by his radio, “The bat sticker is lucky,” he emphasises excitedly before his face falls when he notices you giving him a deadpan look. “Totally not interesting - uh - oh - what about some radio?”

“I’m looking, Eddie,” you state with a determined expression on your face.

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down, coming to the realisation that you are not going to be distracted, “Okay, okay - just - don’t freak out.”

You smile at him, amused, as he focuses back on the road, staying awfully silent and keeping his mouth tightly shut… surely it can’t be that bad- you think as you turn your head, ignoring the pain that it causes you. Your eyes widen as you see it as clear as day, suddenly your knee and head is no longer the source of your hurt… it’s your Pink Special, placed gently on the navy backseat of Eddie’s van. It’s neck has been snapped away from it’s body and two of the strings are curled, no longer attached to their tuning pegs… your jaw falls open at the murder scene before you, “She’s- she’s-.”

“She’ll be fine,” Eddie interrupts you reassuringly, concern clear in his eyes - it’s such a genuine reaction that you believe that he understands your heartbreak for your guitar.

“Fine?” You retort, sarcasm oozing from your voice, “She’s been snapped in half!”

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road, turning right onto the road you live on which is just opposite of Lover’s Lake. “Yeah, you kinda - fell on her,” he informs you.

Your heart sinks, thinking about how you’d tried so hard to save her from the fall which makes tears start to well up in your eyes again, “Y-you mean - I - killed - her?” You tear your glassy eyes away from your guitar to look at Eddie…

How the hell is she gonna be fixed?

How the hell am I gonna play without her?

What the hell am I gonna do without her?

I can’t be a lead guitarist without a guitar.

Eddie gives you a reassuring smile, “Your Pink Special is gonna be rockin’ out with you again soon - trust me,” he tells you confidently, giving you eye contact that makes you want to take him for his word instantly.

You blink at him, your face blank with tears running down it and dropping onto your oversized t-shirt that’s now stained with your makeup mixed with your tear drops.

“You do trust me, right?” He asks, curiosity laced within his words.

You continue to blink at him as he drives around to your side of Lover’s Lake, near the woods. He doesn’t look at you so that he can concentrate on finding your home, and so that he can hide the disappointment in his face if you say no, “Yes - I think I do.”

After the shock of initially getting over the fact that you admitted that you do in fact trust him, a chuckle leaves his lips and he grins smugly at the road, “So close your eyes and trust me to get you home safe. Does that sounds good?”

Sounds perfect.

Without saying a word, you answer his question by shutting your eyes and relaxing into your seat by pressing your back right against it and nuzzling the side of your face against the fabric of the top of it.

After a few minutes pass, Eddie takes a sneaky glimpse of you, so relaxed that you’ve almost melted into the seat, a little smile spreads across his features, but he finds himself shaking his head, trying not to think about other circumstances where you could be sat beside him like this right now… like driving you home after a romantic diner and cinema date which would be topped off with a quickie at the back of his van… or taking you on a permanent roadtrip outta Hawkins and never looking back… just you, him and your guitars.

He takes a deep, sharp breath while forcing himself to drag his eyes away from you, which you can hear clearly - you steal a glimpse of him too with a timid smile on your lips before scrunching your eyes shut again.

“Home sweet home, sweetheart.”

That’s the second time he’s called me sweetheart… and I’ve not stopped him.

⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐢𝐱

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 '𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒' 𝐨𝐫 '𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧' 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐞��𝐭𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞��𝐬 👌👌

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝑩𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑳𝑬 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑨𝑵𝑫𝑺

@big-ope-vibes @majesticjellyfishzombie @b-ritney @joyfulcandyrunaway @sidthedollface2 @sillypurplemurple @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie @bookobsessedfreak @lefdepard @rottinglexi @aol19 @loki-loves-cats @eddieslooneymoonie @hllfrclb @weirdkidfromtheupsidedown @bonehead-playz @euphoric-rush

𝑬𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝑴𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒐𝒏

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts @sadbitchfangirl @emma77645 @seatbacksandtraytables

🜸

[3lle-l-black]

ok rockstar eddie is cool

but we can have rockstar!reader too??

Rockstar!Eddie x Singer!Reader idk

I wanna be the singer girlfriend

[autumnal-dawn]

i’m trying to find a fic that was eddie munson and a female reader who was in an all-girl band? she started out as a stand-in bassist but became a part of the band. does anyone know it?

[vapekingg]

You and Eddie have this running joke.

Or at least it started as a joke.

Once Corroded Coffin started to take off, it was hard to not get jealous. All those pretty girls throwing themselves at him at every show. They'd wait at the merch table or near the back door where the band smokes their cigarettes. Even with you hanging off of his arm, they were relentless.

So Eddie started finding you before they could find him.

You liked being in the crowd during their sets. Some of the guys' girlfriends would sit sidestage, some of them would stay in the green room, but you preferred the energy of the show. Eddie always made sure you were front row, center stage. That way he could always find you.

He made a big deal out of it, too. Pointing you out every night during their last song and handing you a VIP laminate that would get you backstage. To all of these new faces, you were just another face in the crowd. It became a thing amongst their fans. Who would be the lucky girl tonight?

But it was always you.

Because you're his favorite groupie, aren't you?

That's what Corroded Coffin's security team started calling you. Jokingly, of course. But it's carried over.

"You know why you're my favorite fucking groupie?" Eddie hisses close to your face.

You can't respond. He knows you can't respond. If it weren't for both of his hands wrapped around your throat, then because he's got your legs folded up against your chest with your ankles next to his ears. Eddie's thrusts are relentless, his cock punching into your guts with brutality, and you can't make a fucking sound.

"Because you can fucking take it," he continues, punctuating the last two words with particularly rough assaults.

Your face is getting warm from the blood pooling in your head. Your brain is pounding in your temples with each stroke of his thick cock against your slick inner walls. You need to scream, but the wail trapped in your lungs sits right below Eddie's fists at the base of your throat.

"Oh, you have something to say? Didn't lose your voice screaming my name all night?" His voice is beginning to sound far off beneath the sound of your own heart thumping in your ears. "Fuck, you feel good. Squeezing my cock, baby. Don't worry, I'm gonna let you sing."

Your throat is released and Eddie's fingers slide beneath your head, weaving into your hair. A rush of air enters your lungs, and then you hear your own foul sounds.

The sound of begging, of pleading, of crying for him to never stop, to give you more.

"Please, Eddie. Please, harder, harder, harder!" Are the only words you can remember.

And you expect Eddie to mock you. He usually does, and it's usually the final nail in your coffin. What you don't expect is the tightening of his ringed fingers against your roots. He holds your head in place and spits on your face, silencing you for only a moment.

"You know this is when you're the prettiest?" Eddie says between gritted teeth.

With the blood flowing back to your brain, you begin to hear everything again. His little grunts and moans hidden by heavy breathing, the slapping of his sweat slick skin against yours, the creaking of his tour bus bunk bed. It all comes together like some sort of symphony of filth.

"When you're all fucked out. Makeup fucked, sweaty, my spit dripping down your face. You'll be even prettier with my cum leaking out of this pussy."

Your back arches into him at the mention of Eddie filling you up. He doesn't do it often. You're careful most of the time. But on special occasions... the risk is worth it.

Eddie laughs at your response, his cock pumping into your cunt faster.

"That what you want? Me to fill you up?" He asks mockingly.

That knot in your abdomen begins to tighten. Eddie's hips rut against your sensitive clit, stroking it in time with each thrust.

"Then everyone will know you're my favorite groupie, huh?"

Eddie's hips hit your core, his cock buried to the hilt, and he grinds his waist against your clit. Stars dot your vision. Every atom in your body shivers on the edge of oblivion.

"Won't they?"

[mystra-midnight]

— CALL ME LITTLE SUNSHINE | part i

pairing: rockstar ! eddie x innocent ! reader

tags: pet names. dirty talk. making-out. fingering. oral; (fem receiving). marking; (hickeys). loss of virginity. corruption kink. semi-public sex. eddie is entirely pussy whipped.

w/c: 6.7k.

a/n: welcome to part one! it's been a hot minute since i've posted anything as thought out and in-depth as this so if you could take a few minutes to reblog or comment some feedback, i'd very much appreciate it. ♥

"Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin! Corroded Coffin!"

The ever-growing crowd had been calling for the band the entire time you'd been waiting in line, which, after looking at the watch tucked beneath the sleeve of your cardigan, had been almost an hour and a half. The chanting had gotten so loud that, at some point, you'd stopped being able to hear yourself think, instead relying on Steve's large hand clasped around your own to tell you when to shuffle forward.

You felt out of place, unlike Steve and Robin. Everywhere you looked, people were dressed in leather and chains; piercings here, there, and everywhere; fishnets; big black platform boots; heavy make-up; and tattoos. And then there was you, dressed in a simple summer dress, hugging a knitted cardigan around your shoulders, wearing strappy sandals, and looking like someone right out of the Stepford Wives.

Other people noticed; you'd swear it, though no one said anything. As you looked between people, you caught a few of them looking at you, their expressions a motley of emotions that made you shift uncomfortably. Metal music had never been a particular favourite of yours, and concerts like this—where people were packed in like sardines—definitely weren't your preferred scene. The thought of being alone, snuggled beneath a blanket, and enjoying a glass of Moscato was much more appealing.

But you'd promised Steve and Robin that you'd come.

Well, no, not exactly. You hadn't promised either of them anything; instead, you'd given in to their constant whining. Steve and Robin had hung themselves from your legs as though they were dramatic, tantruming toddlers, pouting, and begging you to go with them. And after promising to cook dinner every night for a week—no, wait, a month!—your resolve finally broke.

That was how you found yourself finally walking through the double doors of the stadium. A gust from the air conditioner greeted you as you stepped inside, blowing your hair into your eyes and lip gloss, but it was a welcomed relief.

"I think that took literally forever." Your feet were already aching, and the thought of standing for another two hours was mentally and physically exhausting. Sure, you'd listened to some of Corroded Coffin's songs and thought they were good, but you weren't looking forward to standing in a sweaty crowd.

"Right. That was crazy, and they only have two scanners going. It's going to take forever to get everyone inside." Steve replied. His fingers tightened around yours when he felt your strides slowing, and he turned to notice your attention was on the merchandise display a few feet away. Following your gaze, he found the band tees hung up on a pinboard, images pressed onto the fronts and backs of each one. Some showed the band's tour dates and the cities they were scheduled to stop in, while others had stylised versions of Eddie's face.

Steve practically beamed with pride. He was proud of how far Eddie had come since they'd met—from school freak to famous rockstar. It was a big change, but a well-deserved one, given all the shit he'd been through. Somehow, he'd remained modest and hadn't forgotten where he'd come from; he'd gotten his uncle out of the trailer and into a two-bedroom apartment; he thanked his uncle and friends during every interview; he'd even forgiven his childhood bullies, though he never forgot what they'd done to him.

"Come on," he said while tugging your hand. "We should get in before the show starts," he said when you hesitated, teeth tugging on your lower lip as you continued to eye the shirts, bandanas, and posters on display. It was called the Upside Down Tour, and the band had released a limited-edition shirt for the tour.

"I want to get a shirt; this is the first concert like this I've ever been to. I want something to remember it." You explained. You wriggled your fingers in his, hinting that you wanted him to let go. If you'd have blinked, you might have missed it, but you swore that Steve and Robin shared a look—the kind that carried secret conversations and amusement.

Your heart stuttered in your chest, painful and sudden, while your mind raced to a dozen terrible thoughts. What if they regretted bringing you along, even though they'd practically begged you to go? What if they were angry? Fuck, what if they hated you? You must have looked like you were about to pass out because Steve took pity on you, reassuringly squeezing your hand as he stepped closer.

"Shit, sorry," he apologised with a crooked smile. "It's all good. We can pick one up after the show, okay? We need to get inside before security locks the doors."

"Oh," you answered. You ducked your head to hide your face, which felt like it was burning with embarrassment. You suddenly felt childish for letting your anxiety get the better of you, especially given that this was Steve and Robin, who had been nothing but kind from the moment you'd first met them. "Of course. After the show."

As though she sensed your distress, which she more than likely did because you radiated emotions like the sun radiated heat, Robin grabbed your other hand, lacing her fingers with yours, and gave you a sympathetic smile that mimicked the one on Steve's face. You loved them, but sometimes you hated them. So often, Robin and Steve seemed to be on the same page, on the same mental wavelength, having entire conversations with the lofting of a brow or half-smirk while you were on your own, a stranger looking in.

You tried not to think about it and tried desperately not to let negative emotions get the better of you tonight. You were at a concert with two amazing people, about to see a fantastic band play live. It was going to be a good night. Steve showed his ticket to one of the women managing the traffic flow, who motioned down a steep staircase into a standing pit right in front of the stage.

As you predicted, the crowd was already massive; there were too many people to fit comfortably within the stadium, but no one would complain as long as everyone behaved. And everyone would behave if they were able to see the band play. It wasn't long before the lights went down, and the crowd's cheering rose to a thunderous crescendo.

You felt the violent vibrations of the bass guitar as the bassist began the opening rift—how it rattled the ivory cage around your lungs until your entire body swayed to the rhythm. A sudden fireworks explosion dazzled and blinded you as the crowd rushed forward. Then the atmosphere turned electric, casting a weaving web on the crowd and drawing them in.

When the smoke settled, you saw the band had taken their places on stage, dressed in black denim, leather, chains, tattoos, and wild hair. They preened beneath the attention of their peers as the frontman and lead singer, Eddie Munson, moved to stand before a microphone. "I hope you're ready to rock, Hawkins, 'cause we're not stopping until the cops come knocking!"

Steve grabbed your wrist and dragged you in front of him, pushing you closer to the stage. That was how you found yourself standing front and centre. One of his hands grabbed your hip firmly, ready to break the fingers of any other wandering hands. He wrapped his other arm around Robin's shoulders, holding her to him as they sang along to a song you didn't know the words to.

It wasn't your proximity to him or the bruising grip of his fingers that warmed your blood, but the singer on stage. You'd seen pictures of Eddie in the trashy magazine you picked up from the gas station occasionally; each one seemed to be a different headline, each as scandalous as the last. Corroded Coffin's singer caught with another woman? Eddie Munson, Satanic Priest! Some of them were ridiculous, and none of them had been particularly entertaining, especially when, in every interview, he seemed humble, perhaps even flustered by the fame.

The sight of him on stage sent heat dripping down your cheeks and into your neck, spiralling through your veins to gather at your core.

He looked like a devil but had the face of an angel—wild curls bounced around his face, you caught glimpses of his inked skin, and there was a perfect trail of hair on his abdomen. He strummed at his guitar strings as though it were his lover, plucking the cords with perfectly practised movements. You wondered what else his fingers could do, and a wild blush crept into your face.

As though your thoughts weren't mortifying enough, he seemed to have noticed. His eyes found yours in the crowd, as if he could see straight into your brain and was plucking the fantasies from your mind.

The world slowed to a crawl and faded until it was just the two of you and your racing thoughts. You drank in the sight of him. You caught glimpses of his tattoos, watched how droplets of sweat rolled down the hollow of his throat as the heat of the stage lights bore down on him, and watched how his lips moved as he sang, the rasps of his voice enough to make you tremble.

You tugged your lower lip between your teeth, almost afraid to look away; you wanted this moment to go on forever and ever. But as abruptly as it began, the fantasy ended when he looked out across the crowd, and as he did, the world snapped back into place. Your heart was racing, and your breath was erratic.

You felt silly having been caught up in such an intense moment with a perfect stranger, even if he was handsome and famous—a perfect mixture of exhilaration and embarrassment. You glanced at Robin and Steve, hoping they hadn't noticed your captivated state. They hadn't.

The two were still singing and enjoying the music, bouncing up and down as a guitar solo swept through the speakers. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you looked back at the stage, trying valiantly to refocus on the music. After a while, the guitar's pounding bass and electrifying energy were enough to pull you back into the moment.

You felt captivated, as though whatever dark spell he was weaving had fallen upon you, too. His performance was filled with raw emotion and a rebellious spirit, with the lyrics resonating with something deep inside you, echoing your desires, and enticing a wildness to spark in your veins.

You stole another glance at him, and his eyes again met yours. It was almost as if the universe had conspired to connect you two in a chaotic sea of people. With a sudden burst of courage you didn't think yourself capable of, you gave a bashful smile and lifted your hand, waving at him.

He saw and acknowledged you with a knowing smile, to your surprise and amusement. It felt like a dirty secret. You would swear that your face was on fire from how hard you were blushing, your fingers wringing together nervously at the front of your dress.

It seems silly. In fact, you knew it was silly, childish, and stupid.

You didn't know him, and he didn't know you. You knew the media's version of him—the stylised rockstar who'd grown up poor, defied the odds, and came out on top—the playboy who had a different girl every other week and who'd been caught having sex with fans in odd places. But what you'd felt, however brief, had ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach. You felt it smouldering as you were lost in the music and its wild energy.

The last guitar riff played, and the crowd erupted into thunderous applause. You expected the crowd to thin down now that the show was finished, but they remained, hooting and hollering, vying for his attention.

"He was incredible!" You shouted as you turned to Steve, straining to be heard above the crowd. He gave you a funny expression and tilted his head to the side, causing a stir of hair to fall into his face.

"What?" 

"I said," you shouted while moving closer to him. "That was incredible!"

This time, he heard you, chuckling under his breath and holding you in place when you tried to slip through the crowd. And then you saw Eddie standing at the edge of the stage, a security guard at his side. You could see they were talking, now if only you'd learned to read lips. Except you didn't need to read lips to know he was pointing right at the three of you.

Your heart stopped mid-beat, your mouth running dry, as a second security guard approached the three of you. From where you were frozen in time, you didn't see Steve and Robin grinning at each other or the glint in their eyes.

You were star-struck, staring at the security guard as if he'd grown a second head. And he might as well have because things like this didn't happen. Maybe it happened in the movies, but not real life and you weren't some perfectly poised beauty. You were a real woman with feelings; they were all over the place right now.

You grabbed Steve's arm when he stepped away, pulling him to a stop. He looked down at you with a furrowed brow. "What the hell is going on?" you hissed at him, not angry but entirely surprised and uncertain. He gave you a dashing and daring smile.

"Think he just invited us backstage."

"What?"

You'd tried to convince yourself that this was a wild dream. You even pinched yourself—twice. Things like this didn't happen to ordinary people, especially people like you. The shy woman who had to have a drink in her hand, the woman who took sips to fill the silence when talking became overwhelming, the woman who stammered and blushed with little more than a wink from a handsome man.

But it was happening. And now there you were, backstage, with Steve and Robin at your side, staring at a door with the band's name written in block letters. You could hear people milling about inside.

The security guard knocked, and you heard the muffled sound of movement, followed by something being knocked over and a chorus of laughter. Finally, the door was hauled open.

"Eddie!"

Robin's outburst startled you. She pushed past you and Steve, then the security guard, and threw herself at the man. You gawked at them, eyes wide as your soul burst to life, heart skipping several beats when he spun her in a circle. Robin's feet didn't touch the ground as they laughed. 

You couldn't believe it.

There, standing not even five feet away, was the lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Eddie-fucking-Munson—the very same man you'd been eye-fucking on stage not even an hour ago. A part of you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you whole. Another part screamed at you to cling to him as Robin had done.

"Hey," Steve whispered, leaning slightly closer to your ear. "Are you doing okay? You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

"What?" You replied, your voice rising an octave in panic. Your gaze whirled between Steve and the duo, who seemed oblivious to your presence, and then back again. "Yes, well, no! You didn't tell me you knew him!"

"Who? Eddie?" He asked.

"That guy, right there, the famous guy hugging our friend?" You were incredulous, your arm flailing in their direction, much to Robin's amusement and Eddie's confusion. "Yes, him! You two know him?"

"What about Eddie?"

The sudden appearance of his voice made you squeak in surprise. His voice was dark, deep, and delectable, like chocolate, and hoarse. It felt like liquid heat pouring down your spine, flooding every intersecting bone until you trembled. Eddie smiled, and his cheeks dimpled in a way that had you blushing wildly.

You stared as Steve and Eddie swept each other into a bear hug, slapping each other on the back and again on the arm as they came apart. Robin gave you a playful poke in the side, bringing your attention back to her.

"What about Eddie?" She asked, which inevitably brought all of their attention to you. You shifted beneath the weight of their combined stare. Your eyes found Eddie's, and you looked away quickly.

"Yeah, what about Eddie, girl?" He playfully added.

"Nothing! It's just that—um—well, I didn't know you—uh—that they knew you. That's all." You say, stumbling over the words like an awkward teenager. You mentally kicked yourself, but in truth, you'd never been good at talking to people. You'd always been a little shy, and everyone made fun of you before Steve and Robin slowly started coaxing you out of your shell.

And it wasn't as though he knew you. He probably hadn't seen you in the crowd. Now that you think about it, Eddie was just as likely to be smiling at them, not you, when he was on stage. But that didn't do anything to pull the blush out of your face or stop the way you shuffled under the gaze of the trio.

"Oh, yeah," Eddie said with an awkward laugh, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. Your eyes went a little buggy when his shirt rode up, revealing that trail of hair that disappeared into the band of his jeans.

You looked away quickly before he could catch you staring, finding something on the wall that suddenly fascinated you. He didn't notice, or at least didn't say anything if he did. "Yeah, yeah, the three of us went to high school together. It seems like a lifetime ago."

Robin stared at him, her expression incredulous. "It was, like, five years ago, Eds. Don't you dare make me older than I am!" She said as the back of her hand connected with his stomach. Eddie huffed as he doubled over dramatically, clutching his stomach and coughing as though she'd just punched the air from his lungs. You laughed despite yourself, momentarily drawing his attention to you; he flashed you a dazzling smile before hustling the three of you inside. 

It would have been spacious inside the room if it wasn't filled with boxes of merchandise, band equipment, and the rest of the band. The little composure you'd managed to hold onto disappeared when Steve and Robin rushed inside, similarly greeting the others, hugging and laughing like old friends. 

You lingered at the door, unsure what to do with yourself, when you felt a hand against the small of your back, fingertips tapping just above the curve of your ass, high enough to be respectful but low enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine.

"Come on, sweetheart. They don't bite," Eddie said with a laugh before leaning down to whisper in your ear. You felt his breath against your neck, the warmth of it making you shiver as he caught a glimpse of your cleavage before you hugged your cardigan around yourself. 

"Well, I might," he added. "If you ask nicely."

He didn't wait to see your reaction, but from the beaming smile plastered on his face, he'd heard your squeak of surprise. Instead, Eddie flounced into the room, joining Steve, Robin, and the others as you followed.

Once official introductions were made, you sat at the end of one of the couches next to Eddie, who seemed entirely unaware of your nervous inner turmoil. Occasionally, his thigh brushed against yours, jostling you in his excitable state as the group recalled their high school years.

"You were quite the ladies' man in high school, Steve. Don't act bashful now," the drummer, Gareth, said with a booming laugh. You found yourself smiling and laughing with him, amused by the way Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and tried to deflect. 

"I remember Robin telling me that the girls used to call him King Steve." You added. Gareth howled with laughter at how Steve flushed a deeper shade of pink. You smiled at him, pretty and sweet, but should have known he wouldn't let that slight go unanswered. You hardly had time to steel yourself before he returned fire.

"Hey now," he said, his smile positively devilish. "Don't start throwing shade if you can't handle the sun, sweets. Because I could tell some stories about you, too. Well, no, I couldn't. I don't think I've ever heard those bed springs squeak."

You choked on a mouthful of beer, coughing as you glared at him in horror. "Steven Joseph Harrington!" Your face burned at the revelation of a secret you'd shared with him one drunk and wild night. Using his full government name was enough for him to know he'd crossed a line, but the laughter of his friends encouraged him.

"I can't help it if that's the truth, you know," he said with a shrug.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eddie shouted, shaking his hand wildly to get everyone's attention, especially yours. You squirmed in your seat, pushing yourself hard against the arm of the couch to try and escape his intense stare when he rounded on you. 

"Never? As in never, ever?"

At that moment, you wanted the ground to open wide and swallow you. It wasn't that you were embarrassed to be a virgin, but the attention made you uncomfortable. You'd never been the type of woman to want a one-night stand with a stranger. Steve had offered once when you'd both been drunk and confessing secrets, but you'd never felt the itch.

And it wasn't that you considered your virginity to be a cherished and sacred part of yourself. But you'd never wanted to be that vulnerable with someone unless you trusted them entirely. 

"Bullshit." Eddie spat, not nasty, but disbelieving. "You've gotta be shitting me. A pretty thing like you hasn't ever had sex? I know you're lying."

You stared at your hands resting in your lap, fingers wringing the hem of your dress until the stitching threatened to fray. From across the room, you heard the vague sound of Robin talking, mumbling something about you being as ripe as a cherry. She purposely popped her lips, and you wanted to die.

"Jesus Christ," you managed to choke out. "Yes, okay, I'm a total virgin. Can we talk about something else, please?"

The universe appeared to take mercy on you because the conversation changed topics at breakneck speed. One moment, Eddie was gawking at you; the next, he was focused entirely upon Jeff, who'd bought up something called the Hellfire Club. You took the opportunity to down the rest of your beer, letting the flavour of it wash away the taste of embarrassed tears.

The night went on in relative peace. You drank with them, listening to their wild stories of high school shenanigans and offering your own when prompted. You hadn't realised how much time had passed until you glanced at your watch and gawked: two in the morning.

"So, never?" Eddie asked without warning, his voice soft and almost innocent, breaking the silence that had blossomed within the room. You pulled your cardigan around your shoulders as though the thin material could shield you from his gaze. The others had fallen asleep, either drunk or high or just beyond exhausted. It was just the two of you.

Just you and Eddie.

"Look," you said with a sigh, your face burning again. "I really don't want to talk about that."

He held his hands in the universal sign of hold up. "I'm not judging you, sweetheart. I'm just curious. A pretty thing like you has to have a trail of broken hearts behind her."

You laughed despite yourself and relaxed back onto the couch, enjoying the warmth radiating from him. He was so close that you could see the way his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow, the way he traced his lips with the tip of his tongue, the way the fabric of his jeans stretched across his lap, the bulge there. . .

You snapped your head away when he caught your staring.

"It's not like that. I've had boyfriends. I've just never felt comfortable doing anything with them. Not that they were bad people. I didn't want to do it because everyone was doing it. Then I got busy, and dating stopped happening. You understand? Of course you do. You're famous; I doubt you have much time for dating. Not that anyone wouldn't want to date you."

You were rambling, the words falling from your lips like verbal vomit, and you couldn't stop. Eddie silenced you, moving without warning to close the distance lingering between the two of you. He grabbed you by the back of the neck, his fingers rough and warm, pulling you into the wall of his chest so that he could slot his mouth against yours.

Eddie Munson tasted like cigarette smoke and alcohol, dark desire wrapped in leather. Eddie Munson smelled like adrenaline and sex, a woman's wet dream. Before you knew what you were doing, you kissed him back, desperate for more.

Eddie led you into an adjacent room, his fingers enveloping yours, providing a comforting anchor. The soft snores of the others faded into a distant hum as he closed the door. Your gaze traced the contours of his back, the curve of his shoulders, the way his studded jacket draped over them, the weight of his chunky black boots and the ruggedness of his ripped jeans. The belt cinched around his narrow waist, crowned with a buckle shaped like a bat, adding a touch of mystery to his rugged charm.

He turned abruptly, his hand slamming against the door beside your head, eliciting a startled yelp from you. Eddie pressed against you, your hands instinctively clutching the fabric of his shirt. Caught between the desire to pull him closer and the instinct to push him away, you found yourself staring at him with wide, uncertain eyes. Your heart pounded against its ivory prison, the uncertainty of the moment adding to its frantic beat.

"E—Eddie?" You managed to stammer his name, your voice impossibly quiet, overflowing with uncertainty and a mix of fear and desire. He didn't seem to mind. He smiled at you, his breath washing over your mouth and nose like a sweet rum, leaving you light-headed. You squeezed your thighs together as tight as you could, desperate to stifle the growing heat at your core.

He felt it, your nervous shifting and the wild beating of your heart as he cruised a hand along your body, from your hip and then over your breast to clutch the back of your neck. He rubbed his thumb over your racing pulse. "Has anyone ever kissed you like this before? Pushed you against a wall, touched you, told you how beautiful you are?"

Your face burned. Eddie knew that you'd been kissed before; you'd told him as much. But you'd also told him you were a virgin. At twenty-four, you'd almost grown out of being embarrassed by the fact. 

"No," you answered in a low exhale, trying to duck your head to avoid his smouldering stare. His eyes were blown with lust, almost black as coal, as he pushed his thumb against your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

He leaned in closer, the feel of him like a weighted blanket on your chest, making it harder to breathe but in a pleasant way. It made your head fuzzy, like floating in a beautiful daydream, except his lips ghosted over yours. The faintest of touches had reality snapping into place around you.

"Never, ever?" Eddie whispered, his lips brushing, tugging, teasing yours. He was so close that he'd invaded all your senses until all you saw, heard, and breathed was him. He held fast when he wanted to move. Eddie waited for someone to give in to desire and bring the other into the flames. He wanted and needed it to be you.

The tiny whimper you made shot through him, racing through his blood like a bolt of electricity until his cock throbbed. And then you took the plunge, a hand at the back of his neck, the other hauling him in by that pretty studded jacket so you could brush your mouth against his.

It was all he needed—a silent confession, unspoken permission.

Eddie pushed against you until you felt the studs of his leather jacket and his dangling chains pressing into you through your clothing, your dress suddenly restrictive and in the way. His hands were everywhere, cupping your face, running through your hair. And then he dropped to his knees with a thud, pressing kisses down your stomach, leaving wet marks against the fabric of your dress as he ran his hands up the backs of your legs.

"No one ever touched you like this?"

You felt like you were going up in flames. His touch was fire licking your skin, beautiful and pure, leaving you trembling. His hands moved up the back of your thighs, and when his mouth found your belly button, tongue swirling once, then twice, you grabbed him by the shoulders to steady yourself.

"Words, sweet girl. I need you to answer," he said in a husky tone, pinching the back of your thigh to bring you out of your mind and into the moment. He looked at you from beneath his impossibly dark lashes, his eyes dark, twinkling with mischief.

"Never," you managed to gasp when his hands began drifting high, pushing your dress up until he could bunch it at your hips. And then he was face-to-face with your panties, groaning dramatically, making a sound that would make a pornstar blush. 

"Have mercy," Eddie moaned, his breath hot against your mound even through the barrier of clothing. His eyes moved back to yours, and you flushed with embarrassment. He was staring at you like he wanted to devour you. "Even your fucking panties are adorable. That little bow? I'm going to take my time unwrapping this present."

Yet, despite this admission, he didn't take his time.

His mouth landed on your clothed cunt without a preamble. Your knees shook and threatened to give out as he worked his tongue against the wet fabric, tasting your arousal and letting it slide down his throat like a fine wine. Eddie found that virgins were quick to get wet. His calloused fingers kneaded the globes of your arse, pulling you closer, his talented tongue pushing your panties into your slit so he could tease your clit with gentle licks.

You bit your knuckles to stifle the sounds of your moans as pleasure snaked through your veins, creeping through your bloodstream until you broke into a sweat.

"Put your hands in my hair," he demanded with a rough voice, and like a mindless fool, you complied. His hair was a mess of wild curls that you pulled on, sinking your fingers deep into his plush locks when he started to work your panties down your thighs. "Good girl."

"Oh god." As the fabric pooled at your ankles, your head hit the door with a soft thud. You were like putty in his hands—willing to walk through the fires of hell if it meant he'd keep touching you. Eddie freed one of your ankles and threw your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer.

Words could not describe the feeling of his tongue against your slick folds or the sensation of the tip flicking against your clit. It was like lightning arched through the sky to melt the skin from your bones. You were burning up. And he'd lit the match.

Eddie was loud and messy, lewd. The sounds that clawed up his throat were pornographic. Each wet schlick of his mouth was accompanied by a throaty moan as he sucked your clit and teased your throbbing hole with the tip of his tongue.

It was an out-of-body experience—you never realised you could feel this good. Eddie held you by the back of the thighs, his grip firm, pulling you onto his tongue until your flesh goosepipmpled beneath his touch. You could have collapsed when he withdrew, a line of saliva connecting the tip of his tongue to your clit.

"Words, pretty girl. You gotta use them, or I'm going to stop."

You whined desperately, weaving your fingers deeper into his wild hair. "Please don't stop, Eddie. . ."

"Then talk to me. Let me hear those pretty sounds."

He waited only a moment, his dark eyes staring into yours with the intensity of the sun. He took in your flushed cheeks and shallow breaths that made your chest heave. Then he resumed his meal. The sound you made in response was embarrassing—at least, it should have been. You should have wanted the ground to split open and swallow you. But you didn't.

"It's good," you choked out, squeezing your eyes shut as he ran the flat of his tongue along your slit, the tip flicking your clit in a delicious way that made your hips twitch; forward, then back, like you wanted him to eat you alive but also to escape. 

The feeling was exquisite—like nothing you had ever felt—knocking the air from your lungs, making the muscles in your legs tense and your core weep. Your whole body jerked under his tongue, a shiver shaking your spine, your bones turning to jelly as he licked and sucked your drenched cunt. "Oh god. . . I think. . . I—I'm close."

You'd had orgasms before, but nothing quite like this. It was a slow build, each swipe of Eddie's tongue amplifying the pressure between your hips, sending jolts of electricity through your veins until your nerves crackled and popped. It was difficult to describe; you could taste the words on the tip of your tongue, but they melted away with each moan he drew from your lips.

And then it spread out through your body, a searing warmth that threatened once more to melt the skin from your bones.

"You're so wet, sweetness, m'fucking drowning here," Eddie said. Even though his words were vulgar, the low growl with which he spoke sent you tumbling down the other side of pleasure. The first wave zinged through you, knocking the air from your lungs and sparking every one of your nerves to life.

You bit your knuckles hard until you tasted blood, but the flavour was quickly lost as the second wave seared through your limbs. Eddie didn't stop—not once. Each swipe of his tongue against your clit, each push of it into your virginal hole, sent wisps of fire shooting through your veins, adding stars and galaxies bursting to life behind your scrunched-shut eyes.

When you returned to earth, you found yourself trembling, his strong hands the pillars that kept you upright. Eddie kissed his way back up your body, slowly working your dress up as he went until he could pull it over your head. He threw it over his shoulder, the fabric a distant memory as it hit the ground, lost and now forgotten.

"No one ever made you cum before, have they?" He whispered, his breath hot, his smirk feral, as he teased his lips along the slope of your neck. You whined when your bare cunt rubbed against his dark denim jeans, the rough drag of the rips and tears against your lips sending you hurtling toward the sky once more.

"No," you managed to say before catching his mouth for a wild, clumsy kiss. Eddie happily obliged, pushing his tongue into your mouth and licking your teeth so you tasted yourself.

"Touch me. . ."

"What do good girls say?"

"Please."

You would die if he didn't touch you in the next three seconds. You would collapse to the ground, melt into a puddle at his feet, and literally die.

Thankfully, he took pity on you. 

Eddie kissed you deeply, with the fire of a thousand suns; his hot breath stole through your lungs when he swallowed your moans, leaving you on the verge of combustion. You felt lost in him, touching him here, there, and everywhere as you tried to strip him. Eddie didn't let you. He grabbed your wrists and held them at the small of your back, and he moved you both across the room.

Your lips never once parted. The moment was composed of hot breaths, searing kisses, and teasing bites, weakening your knees terribly. Eddie fell back into a high chair in front of the make-up mirrors. You were desperate to climb into his lap, to wind your legs around him and leech the warmth from his chest, but instead, he turned you and pulled you into his lap, back to chest.

"Eddie," you whispered his name in a sigh, heady with desire. "I want more. . ."

He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, smiling in response. His lips were wet, his mouth wanting as he lowered it to your next, sucking a mark into your plush skin. "Open your eyes, sweetness."

Eddie hooked your knees over his thighs, spreading you open and exposing you to the mirror. The tips of his fingers ghosted along the crease of your inner thigh, making your breath hitch in anticipation. "You're beautiful," he said with a hum, nuzzling his nose into your hair. You caught his eyes in the reflection and saw the stark desire that had turned his pupils black, the hunger.

And you saw the expression mirrored in your own reflection. Your skin was flushed the subtlest shade of pink, pussy glistening with arousal. Eddie honestly thought you were the prettiest thing he'd ever fucking seen; so sweet, so innocent.

The stretch of his thick fingers was immediately exquisite, the slick of your arousal coating them entirely. Eddie watched the mirror, transfixed by the way it dropped from around his fingers, sliding down the curve of your ass to darken his denim jeans.

He felt you clench around him, tension seeping through your body as the pain collided with pleasure, twisting through your veins like snakes, intertwined, threatening to consume you from the inside out. You cried out when he crooked them, hips rising in search of more; his other hand cruised up your body, the soft swell of your stomach, cupping a tit in the palm of his hand, thumb teasing your nipple into a hardened peak.

Eddie growled against your neck. He was as hard as a rock, and each jolt of your hips had your arse rutting against his aching cock. You reached back to grab his hair, winding your fingers through his wild curls as the pleasure mounted. You were a guitar, and he had years of practice. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way you couldn't sit still as he fucked his fingers in and out of your cunt, the way you clawed at his jeans.

You put a hand over your mouth to stifle the way you moan, loud, wantonly, like a whore. You felt dirty—like this was a scandalous secret. The thought of being found was erotically terrifying.

"You getting close, sweetness?" Eddie asked; no, he growled the words against your neck, teeth clipping the sensitive skin. "I can feel it. You're squeezing my fingers so fucking tight. Are you thinking about my cock? How much better it'll feel than my fingers?"

As though to emphasise his words, his thrust against you, his erection hard against the globes of your arse, leaving him moaning as his own muscles twisted with desire, pure liquid heat pouring through his bones.

"Cum for me, baby."

He wasn't asking; no, he was demanding.

tag list ::

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[eddiesxangel]

That’s that me, Espresso | rockstar!eddie

@mmunson86 requested: I can’t stop thinking about rockstar!Eddie x pop!Princess! reader! & its all thanks to miss SC & Espresso! Imagine they are at one of her concerts right right & she has Eddie sit in the middle of the stage! she is about to debut this song its the last song for the night and she dances on him , for him , around him & Eddie is loosing his mind so right after the concert he wastes no time and takes her into the dressing room & the rest well you know the rest 🙂‍↔️💗

Cw: modern au, Rockstar!Eddie x Pop!princes wife reader. Age gap, Eddie is a filthy simp for his girl, soft!Dom Eddie (sir), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected), small bit of anal fingering. Talks of pregnancy.

2.3kwords

We are back baby!!! From the Wildflower universe, if you want more of the lore on these two.

“You ready, Angel?” Your husband smiles at you.

Husband, it still has a nice ring to it. You’ve been married just under a year. Giving birth to your little one put the wedding on the back burner, but you started the wedding planning once Lila Rose was 7 months old.

“Yeah, I think so,” you smile. You’re already in your hair and makeup, just waiting for your turn to get on stage.

The rowdy crowd of music festival goers grow impatient as the crew tirelessly works to remove the previous acts' set design.

“You think they’re going to like the new song?” You fiddle with the bedazzled mic in your hands.

“You kidding me? They’re going to love it!”

Eddie always encouraged your work, even if it wasn’t his thing. He loved every song because it was yours.

“All performers take their mark,” you hear the stage director in your ear.

You give Eddie one quick kiss and make your way to the stage.

The set went perfectly, but the riding anticipation of the new single was still in the back of your mind.

“Okay, Coachella! I’m going to need you to help me out with something.” You smile. “This is my last song of the night, and it’s brand new, so I’m a bit nervous.” You pace the stage.

“Now I have a special someone backstage with me, and I know he won’t come out unless we pressure him, so I’m going to need your help, okay?” you walk over to side stage and look him in the eye

You knew he would kill you, but you needed him for the extra moral support, and you kinda had a plan up your sleeve.

“Come on out, Eddie, baby,” you smile, and the crow starts to chant Eddie’s name.

Feeling embarrassed and a bit proud of you for getting what you wanted. Eddie stocks onto the stage, giving a small wave, not wanting this to be about him.

“Sit,” you speak into the mic and point to the fold-out chair in centre stage.

Eddie sits, and before he can protest anymore, he hears the first few beats of the music.

“Nice,” you sing in your breathy tone your husband can’t get enough of.

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo

Eddie really loved that last lyric. He thought it was very clever of you because he knew it was about him and how he eats you out.

Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso.

You and your dancers moved to the beat without missing a step.

I can't relate to desperation My 'give a fucks' are on vacation And I got this one boy

You turn to your husband and wink.

And he won't stop calling

You take a few short steps around to the back of the chair.

When they act this way

You lean in from behind and run your free hand down his shoulder to his chest and back up.

I know I got 'em

You swear you hear him moan.

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer

You twirl your hair around your finger, then summon Eddie to come closer.

Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger

He gets up and follows you like a puppy as you strut across the stage. My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen.

You flick up the edge of your mini skirt, and Eddie can see the lacy underwear beneath your stockings.

He needs this song to be over so he can finally have you. You've been rehearsing for this moment for months now. Stressing over it and with the baby, you and him have had hardly any time to have sex like you used to.

He's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Eddie is back in his seat by the second bridge, and your dancing is driving him absolutely crazy. You know what you are doing. He can see it in your eyes; your mischievous gaze tells him you had this all planned out. You probably faked being nervous just to get him out here so you could seduce him.

Eddie was losing the battle of not getting hard in front of the thousands of fans watching. He couldn't help it; his bombshell of a wife was so irresistible.

Is it that sweet? I guess so That's that me, espresso

Eddie listened as you thanked the crowd. He took your hand and yanked you off stage once he thought it had been enough time for your final bow, letting you soak in this moment before he whisked you away.

“Eddie!” You squeal while trying to keep up with him in your platform go-go boots.

“Gotta have, you know,” he growls in your ear so only you can hear.

“Really baby? I worked you up that much?” You swoon.

After all this time, Eddie still makes your heart flutter. You never thought soulmates existed, but when you met Eddie, all that changed- especially after having his baby. The way he was with your newborn had you wanting to jump his bones before the doctor okayed you for sex again.

The trailer was close but not close enough in Eddie’s eyes. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to form on Eddie’s brow, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the hot Californian sun or the fact that his cock was about to bust through his jeans, and he was trying not to have anyone notice.

“Get out,” Eddie commands as the trailer door swings back. Eddie opens it so hard.

Your team looks startled as you and Eddie enter the small space.

You give them an apologetic look and they place down their stuff and leave you both alone.

“You were perfect up there.” he pulls you in for a kiss. “So fucking proud of you.” He kisses down your neck.

“Mmmm, thank you, baby”

“You’re a goddamn succubus, you know that, Angel?” Eddie shuts the door behind them and locks it before drawing the blinds.

“Is that right? Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, it is, Mrs. Munson.” Eddie pulls you in by the waist for a heated kiss. Still, after all this time, you both were so greedy for one another. Nothing can ever break the bond between the both of you… not again.

“God, Angel, you were a goddamn tease on that stage; you got me looking like a simp.”

You pull back, curious as to where he had heard that term.

“Simp?”

“VR tells me things.” Violet Rose, Eddie's oldest, whom you’ve adopted, is now twenty two.

“Okay, old man,” you giggle, and he walks you back to the sofa in the trailer’s back corner.

“Enough talking, more kissing.”

Your tailored dress, made just for you, was not easy to strip. Eddie was having a hell of a time trying to get out of it, only to groan when he saw your pantyhose as another barrier.

“Why do they make these things so tight.” He grumbles as you giggle at him.

“You weren’t complaining about it ten minutes ago,” you snide.

“Don’t make me put you over my knee.” He smirks.

“No, Sir,” you put your lip.

Finally, once you are out of your garments, Eddie kneels right between your legs.

“Baby, you’re going to hurt your knees,” You push his long hair back. “Why don’t we go -OH - to the couch” Not listening, his lips are already on your throbbing cunt.

The plus from your clit was relieved as Eddie’s tongue grazes it before quickly lapping and flicking at it.

“Oh fuck!” Your legs buckle, and your grip on Eddie’s hair tightens. He growls at the pain in his scalp, but he loves it all the same.

You feel his tongue go down, then to the left, then the right and finally circles your clit.

“Mmmmm, tastes so good, Angel”

“Please don’t stop!”

You feel Eddie's skilled tongue glide through your slick folds before you feel his hands nudge your legs, signalling to open them wider.

Eddie’s thick long fingers pump up into your warm wet cunt until you’re losing the battle to say upright. Your body is hunched over as Eddie sends waves of pleasure through you.

“Mmmm, that’s it, that’s my good girl. Cum for me.” The pads of his fingers graze you g spot each time. He doesn’t stop until he knows you are satisfied.

“That was a big one, baby; singing for me, go, you all worked up, didn’t it?” He stands and leads you to the couch until you’re lying down, legs spread nice and wide for him.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum as you watch Eddie finally strip.

His body never looked better; he wants to be the healthiest to watch your baby grow up and maybe put another one in you soon.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir, more than ready.” And it was true; it’s been a few weeks since you’ve had time to have sex, and it was long overdue.

All the pent-up sexual tension between the both of you is finally being released when Eddie's hard cock slides into yours effortlessly.

“Fuck I missed my pussy, baby girl.” His head tilts back, and you take the opportunity to suck on his neck, just as you know he likes it.

“So fucking beautiful” his cock pumped in and quickly backed out.

The tip of his dick ring never failed to make you see stars. Already you’re a moaning mess for him, cock drunk, and it’s not even been a minute yet.

“There she is, there’s my good girl” Eddie palms your tit as he continues to thrust deep inside of you. He watches your eyes roll to the back of your head, blissed out by how he makes you feel.

“More” you moan.

“More what?”

“Sir, please, I need you. Baby, I love you. I love you, please, I need it.” You babble.

Eddie's heart swells. He loves you so much he would give you the moon and stars if he could. Hearing you love him, especially when the two of you are like this, really makes him kick into high gear.

He will never take for granted those three words when you say them to him; your past is too painful not to.

“Tell me what you need, baby girl.”

“Fill me.” You pull him down into a kiss. Your tongue explores his mouth.

His hand that was planted on your waist is now travelling lower to your ass.

“This what you wanted, baby? All of your holes filled?” His finger teases your puckered hole.

“Yes!” You gasp.

“I think that can be arranged. Suck” he points his finger at your face, and you take as much of it in your mouth. You suck on it until it’s dripping with your saliva.

“Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you and play with your ass hole.” His finger slowly glides in, and he pumps it to match the rhythm of his thrusts. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!”

“God, I love you.” Eddie can’t help but to fuck you frivolously. The sound of wet skin slapping together filled the thin walls of the trailer.

“Please, please, please.” You were so close you could feel the pit building.

The pressure of his piercing brushing your g spot with every heavy thrust, each shape snap of his hips making him slide deep inside-mixed with the pressure of his finger pressed deep inside of you was bringing you to the edge of bliss.

“You going to come when I tell you to, Angel?”

“I can’t-can’t hold it!”

“Yes, you can,” he growls.

“F-fuck,” you curse him. You can’t hold it for much longer.

“Mmm, that’s right, babygirl. You’re going to listen to what I tell you.”

Your pussy naturally grips Eddie's cock so tight he almost loses it.

“Please, Sir. I want to cum. Please!”

The look in your eyes has Eddie reeling. The way you beg and submit to him, his perfect girl. His perfect wife, the perfect mother to his children.

“Cum” he growls, and you let out a cry of relief.

With your arms wrapped around the back of Eddie's neck, you pull him down into you on instinct. His body weight pressed into you, and your cunt grips his cock so deliciously Eddie is coming with you.

“Shit, baby girl, I think you nearly killed me that time,” Eddie chuckles as his legs give out and his total weight collapses on top of you.

You giggle dumbly as Eddie plants kisses all over your face.

You look up; his face is red and sweaty, but he’s never looked more beautiful.

“That was long overdue.” You sigh with relief.

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles with you.” “Let’s get you cleaned up, mama.”

“You trying to knock me up, Munson?” Deep down, you’d love to have another baby.

“What if I was?” He looks back over his shoulder, catching you checking out his juicy ass.

“Then I’d say we should keep practicing.”

“Wait for real?”

“You’re no,t getting any younger, “ you giggle.

“Oh, you little minx, you’re in for it.” He runs back towards you, lifts you off the couch, and plops you in his lap.

“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Eddie tickles your sides.

“You really want to start trying?” He asks genuinely.

“Yeah,” you nod.

“Guess it’s time for round two, gotta make sure it really sticks.”

Tags: @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesghxst @niallerlover8022 @eddiesguitarskills @all-dogs-die

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[eddiesghxst]

ALL I WANTED

part one | part two | part three

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader

summary: your band, Daughters of Vampira, and Corroded Coffin hate each other and are struggling to keep a clean image in the media; so, in an attempt to solve the issue, your managers try to come up with a solution.

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, cheating (reader is cheated on by her fiancé), themes of misogyny/sexism, and eddie being a dick <3

word count: 12.9k

| Daughters of Vampira setlist | Corroded Coffin setlist |

-story masterlist- | -main masterlist-

You were a musician. A rockstar. On your way to being one of the greats. Your band, Daughters of Vampira, was a small, feminist rock band out of Hawkins, Indiana. You created this band with your friends, Robin, Nancy, and Max, an outlet the four of you used to sing and write your little hearts out. You hit it big when you all moved to Los Angeles, playing at some lame bar when a producer walked up to you after the show, saying she wanted to see more, handing you a business card. 

Then boom. 

Everything was up from there. You got signed onto a record deal– played shows, signed autographs, walked carpets, and did interviews. Your wallet was a bottomless pit. En route to being wed, you got engaged to your production assistant turned bassist, and all was well— until about five minutes ago.

You came home from a day at the studio with your band, crafting a new song, playing with guitar riffs, and imagining lyrics. This track was going to be big; a song about your love for your fiance, a tale of how magnetic and beautiful every second was and will be.

You unlocked the door to your shared apartment, kicking off your sneakers, when you noticed a pair of red heels, which is weird because you hate heels. Maybe they were your friend Angie’s shoes; she knows where you hide your spare key and sometimes sneaks in when you’re not home. Furrowing a brow, you cautiously set your bag and keys down, looking around you for any more clues— her bag or her keys, anything. Your socked feet softly pad across your cold, wooden floors as you walk into the apartment's threshold, glancing into the kitchen. Nothing. You turned to the living room, unknowingly holding your breath—still nothing. Suspicion itches in your mind as you take in the space around you. You turn the corner to your bedroom and see the door left ajar. 

You almost think nothing of it; you wouldn’t be mad at Angie taking a nap in your room; she’s your childhood best friend, but then you hear it— the two voices. The first voice is your fiance, Scott, and the second is an unknown woman.

They’re laughing. They’re whispering about something you can’t hear either because they’re either speaking too quietly or your sudden rage is filling out the space in your ears; you’re not sure which it is. You quickly glance back towards the door, eyeing the heels for the second time— your heart drops.

It was Angie. Those were her heels; you helped her pick them out, for fucks sake. You storm up to the door and swing it open without a second thought, and your eyes widen at the sight before you. You had so badly wished your mind was playing some sick trick on you, and you were just hearing things. You were wrong.

Your fiance and childhood best friend, Angie, are sprawled out in your white-sheeted bed, heads laid on your pillows tousled, under your roof— and both incredibly naked. 

Despite the anger, your eyes quickly fill with tears, salty pools of resentment and betrayal threatening to spill over. Scott sees you in the doorway and scrambles out of bed, hastily grabbing a pair of boxers to pull over his bare hips. You can hear him sputtering out excuses, apologies, and reasons through the fog— so many words that sound like nothing but white noise to you. 

He stumbles his way over to you, hands reaching out to grasp you and raising in surrender when you yank away from him. You can hardly think; a cloudy moment where you feel as if the floor has been wiped from below you and you’re free-falling in some shitty excuse of a dream. 

“Sweetheart, please just listen–” He didn’t get to finish his sentence; the palm of your hand cracked down against his cheek to stop whatever bullshit excuse was coming. Angie shrieked, jumping out of bed, still with no clothes on, as she hurried to his side, an obvious two-against-one— that’s clarified when she shoots you a pointed look, fire building up in her eyes— and you can’t believe the audacity. 

Scott looks back at you, cheek red with the sting of your rage as he points a finger at you, “Don’t you dare fucking touch her,” he scolds as if you were a child, warning you to leave the cookie jar alone. You scoff, your mouth falling agape as you laugh humorlessly. “Me? Touch her?” You point to the naked girl. Your neck heats in fury as you shake your head, “That is rich, Scott.” 

You step back, eyeing both of them and ignoring the lump in your throat as you speak, “So, how long has this been going on?” They stare at you like they’re fucking clueless, and it ticks you off to no end, “In my own fucking bed? With my best friend?” Your tears are hot as they begin streaming down your cheeks, and the harsh swipe of your wrist to wipe them away stings, but you refuse to let them see you cry. Your mind is cluttered with questions, but they come out like bullets, firing round after round. 

Angie takes to answering you, saying your name to halt your questions, “We– we’re in love, and… and he doesn’t..” She looks to Scott for guidance, her eyes pleading for him to help her. Your fingers shake in anger.

“I want to call the wedding off,” Scott says, looking you in the eyes while he and your best friend link fingers. They look fucking stupid, standing there naked and feigning unity– you almost want to laugh. You scoff again, folding your arms over your chest like that would hide your pain from them, despite the evident ghost of tears still clinging to your skin. 

You glance around the room, around at the life you had planned for yourself, for him. Pictures of your engagement day, the closet you two shared, the fucking bed you shared, the life the two of you shared. More tears fall, and you don’t bother brushing them away this time. You nod, defeated.  “Yeah, that’s– yeah, we can… we can do that.” You wipe at your tears, fingers shaking with agony as you swallow the words. 

Your ex-fiance reaches out for your arm, and you back away, like he’s contagious– like his touch carries the heat of the sun. “Don’t touch me,” you snarled, watery gaze boring into his brown eyes. 

“The wedding’s off, so… Take your shit and,” you look at your childhood best friend— your ex-childhood best friend, and your heart aches. This fucking hurts. Your teeth dig into your lower lip as you dismissively wave your hand towards the clothes strewn across the floor, “And take her shit and get the fuck out.” You turn to leave but stop when Scott speaks, “I can’t just do that; I–” He stutters at the stab of your glare, “I need to call a truck so I can carry everything.” 

You laugh, tilting your head, “Nah, don’t worry, I can help you with that.”

You pace to your apartment window, swinging it open and ignoring the confused voices behind you when you start picking up various items. Scott’s eyes widen as he watches you storm over to the window, a heap of his things in your arms. He scrambles to you, yelling as you toss his stuff out the window. He’s looking out the window, watching them fall, “Get. The. Fuck. Out.” You shriek after every item you throw: his computer, acoustic guitar, books on Logistics, and How To Save Money Like A Businessman. 

You flutter about the room, shaking Angie off when she tries to grab you, ignoring her when she falls to the floor in a heap of naked limbs. You pick up a pricey statue that was Scott’s, ignoring his protests, courteously tossing it out the window to join his items. 

You storm out of the room, glancing around for any of Scott’s stuff. Yes, this was your apartment, but you were working on sharing it— sharing it with him. Your fiance. Ex-fiance. You skirt out to the living room, the two lovebirds hot on your tail and begging you to stop. You walk over to the balcony doors, pushing them open and ignoring the sound of the doors cracking against the wall, some picture frames falling to the floor. 

Pictures of you and him. 

You pick them up and toss them over the balcony, looking around for any other fallen pieces. You thoroughly sweep your apartment— as thoroughly as you can through your tears of rage, gathering jackets, shirts, and shoes and carelessly tossing them over the balcony. You ignore them as they hastily put on their clothes, brushing past them to pace to the door.

Your gaze is hot and heavy on Angie’s heels. Those shiny, blood-red, smooth pumps. They oozed sex appeal and smirked at you, asking, daring, challenging you. Angie scrambles to you, yelling for you to put them down, yelling that they were Jimmy Choos, that they were expensive— like you would care. 

You shrug her off as you walk back to the balcony, hanging them over the ledge and turning to gaze at her as she watches with tears brimming. Pathetic. You look into her eyes and drop them— one by one, “Fetch,” you whisper hoarsely.

Angie begins to cry, turning and running to Scott, who points an accusatory finger at you, “You’re a fucking crazy bitch. You couldn’t just end things like a civilized human fucking being?” He exclaims, “You are fucking insane!” He grits out, holding Angie by the waist. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and you better have my shit,” he says scathingly.

When they both have an appropriate amount of clothes on— Angie settling for one of his oversized shirts and panties, him with sweats— Scott hastily searches for his keys. You watch them both, numb and unmoving, and it feels like your body is vibrating in a storm of emotions. Scott finds his keys and wallet, yanking Angie by the hand and hauling her out the door, but not before he shoots you a glare— a look that tells you it’s over. Completely done with no room for redemption— you don’t care either way.

The door slams shut, and silence fills the space. You stand there for what seems like eons, basking in the fizzling heat of your emotions before shuffling towards your bag near the door and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. You search for your lighter, growing irritated when it seems to be missing. You toss your bag to the floor with a curse and walk to the gas stove, turning the knob until a rim of flames arises. You slip the cigarette between your snot-slick lips, ducking your head towards the stove top and watching the cancerous stick catch fire. 

You stand upright, inhaling and puffing out the smoke. You grab your flip phone, shuffling towards the balcony for fresh air while you make a call, but to your dismay, a crowd is gathered below your building, watching and taking pictures. At closer glance, you realize these people are none other than paparazzi— the very bane of your existence. They’re already recording; you can hear them chattering about what they suspect is happening, making up stories for the cameras and soon-to-come tabloids. 

Then, to make matters worse, Scott and Angie skirt out from the building entrance and start picking some items up, the paparazzi asking various intruding questions. Scott has enough grace and respect for you to deny a comment, opting for catching a taxi with Angie instead. With a roll of your eyes, you walk back into your apartment and busy yourself doing a shitty job clearing the mess you’d made. However, like clockwork, your phone rings.

You know it’s Miss Sinclair; well, Erica, as she always corrects you. Your music manager, a firecracker, that one, but overall a good friend on your side. 

You answer, taking a drag from the cigarette as you step onto your terrace again, breathing out a cloud of smoke. “What?” You ask snappily into the phone, glancing down at the crowd of people taking pictures of you. Assholes.

”What? What do you mean, what?” Erica hisses through the speaker. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Tiger?” A nickname she has for you that originated from God knows where. “Yeah, like… what’s up?” You play dumb, smiling sarcastically and waving innocently to the cameras below you.

“Why the hell do I have people blowing my line asking me why you’re tossing shit onto the streets of Los Angeles like it’s a goddamn Goodwill?” She impatiently asks.

You shrug, even though she can’t see you, “Dunno. See you tomorrow at the studio.” You pull the phone away from your ear, hearing her shriek and yell at you, commanding you not to hang up. You slap the flip phone closed, ending the call; her words cut off. You take another drag of the cigarette before flicking the bud off the balcony at the intruders, watching them back away to glare at you, yelling a few curses. You flip them two middle fingers in response before turning to walk back into your apartment, closing the doors behind you. 

You’re going to write a song. A kickass song.

“And then I threw all his shit out the fucking window,” you chuckle, retelling the story to your drinking companion, Robin Buckley, the drummer of your band. She smirks and downs another shot of vodka, “Yeah.. you uh,” she grimaces and smacks her lips at the bitter drink, “you created quite the stir earlier today,” She points at you and winks, picking up her forgotten glass of whiskey beside her and holding it out to you, in cheers. 

You sigh and smile, and inevitably you clink your whiskey-filled glass against hers as she says, “To shitty men and new beginnings— preferably with women,” she winks again, laughing along with you as you lighten up from her joke. You down the rest of your drink and put your glass down, sucking your teeth before rolling your lips inward as you stare thoughtlessly, the whiskey leaving burning kisses in your throat. 

The loud, underground celebrity-only bar drowns out behind you. What were you going to do? You had so much planned with Scott, an entire fucking wedding, a home, maybe even kids. And as if that’s not enough, you wrote an entire song about him. You were almost finished with it, so close to recording it and putting it out, maybe with tour dates to match. 

Now it's gone. Dead and buried. 

A whole song, written in 4 weeks, about your love, the love of your life, your supposed forever person, and he threw it all away. You knew love wasn’t easy. It never was, especially not after your rise to fame. It was hard to find time for date nights, for sex, for just seeing each other and talking. But you would’ve never imagined this to be how it ended.

You can’t help but feel as though this might have been your fault. Some small, pessimistic, mean part of you nagging that you could’ve prevented this if you had just changed. You tried to make time for Scott, you really did, but you got caught up in the music— the music for him. You worked tirelessly at it. For Scott to hear this song and immediately know it’s about him. You wanted it to be a wedding gift, maybe, to play it at your wedding for everyone to hear your love. You had never been so soft in a song, so open and disgustingly lovesick, and you wasted it all on him. Maybe it was your fault; perhaps it was for the better—

“Hey, you okay?” Robin cuts through your thoughts, “You went a little quiet there,” she smiles softly, playfully nudging her shoulder against yours. “Yeah,” you nod, “I-I’m good. Great.” You nod along with your words, trying fiercely to believe them.

You were not good, nor were you great. You were, to put it nicely, fucking wrecked. You were humiliated. How could anyone be okay after something like this? It was bad enough he cheated in the first place but with your best friend? You lost two of your closest people within the blink of an eye. It hurts more that they got each other while you got nothing but ghosts and memories. Scott was there for everything, your first real concert, the after-parties, the carpets. He was there for all of it. And he won’t be there anymore, and that hurts.

You shrug, laughing nervously and rubbing the bridge of your nose in distress, “I just can’t help but think that— that maybe this–” You motion your hands uselessly. Robin quickly interrupts you before you can finish your thought, “No. Do not go there. Are you insane? This,” she motions lazily over your figure, copying you, “was not your fault.” She shakes her head, sincerity laced within her voice and gaze. “Believe me when I say that— I would tell you if you were a crazy bitch, trust.” She smiles and nudges you again with her shoulder, pulling a laugh from you. 

You sigh, rotating your neck to stretch it out, rolling your shoulders, “So, like, what’s up with you?” You ask to lighten the mood, leaning on the bar counter with your elbows. It works because she laughs and nods, looking down at the glasses of whiskey as the bartender wordlessly fills them back up. She traces her finger around the rim of it, still nodding, “I-I’ve been good, you know,” she glances at you and shyly looks away when you begin to smirk, “Just sorta.. Hangin’ out, I guess. Shootin’ the shit,” she shrugs, and you laugh. “Yeah, so when did you guys hook up?” You say over your glass rim innocently, laughing even harder when the girl turns red in the face and sputters over her drink. 

“We did not hook up!” She exclaims, wiping the drink from her lips. “Me and Nance,” she shakes her head, “we just… We, like, hung out, you know?” She shrugged. You mockingly raise an eyebrow as she keeps talking, “And like smoked a bit and maybe drank and then like, there was a movie involved, and then she kissed me and—” You interrupt her rambling with a wave of your hand, “Alright, no more details. You totally hooked up,” you laugh, and she blushes harder, laughing and shaking her head, “Definitely did not.” she scoffs.

“You definitely did.” You challenge.

“Did not.” She shoots back.

“Did.”

She groans and shakes you, “If I pay for your tab, will you shut up?” she offers. You pretend to think dramatically for a moment before giving in and nodding, laughing when she slams a one hundred dollar bill on the counter and gets up, picking her leather jacket from behind her chair. “God, you are so annoying,” she complains, shucking her coat over her Daughters of Vampira band t-shirt. 

You get up, shrugging your leather jacket on and snickering, “Nah, you love me,” you teasingly say, shoving at her shoulder. She smirks and shakes her head, heading for the exit, “Yeah, you wish,” She pushes the door open and steps outside into the chilly Los Angeles night, immediately shoving her hands into her pockets. 

You opt for taking the damaged, smashed pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and pulling a matching lighter out. The lighter has a siren with long, blonde locks and a green, shimmery mermaid tail. You pull out a cigarette and stick it between your lips, igniting the flame and holding it up to the end of the cigarette. You bask in the warmth emanating from the flame, a soft heat kissing your nose. You pull the lighter away and puff, blowing the tobacco back out.

“Man, all I wanted was a peaceful drink, and I got verbally berated instead,” Robin jokes.  You laugh, blowing smoke in her face before stopping, looking ahead. You freeze, and not because of the air; the cogs in your brain start moving, fired up with the fuel of alcohol and the lightheaded buzz of nicotine. You still your movements, looking at your friend, “What did you say?” you ask slowly, pulling your gaze from the busy car-filled street. 

Her face heats up, eyes widening and hands flying from her pockets to raise in defense, “No, I mean, like— I was kidding. I wasn’t being serious—” you interrupt her by waving your hand hastily that was holding a cigarette, before looking at it and tossing it carelessly to the side. You aimlessly shake your hands at her, “No, what did you just say?” You stare into her eyes, watching as she tries to connect the dots. 

She raises her eyebrows in confusion, shrugging before saying slowly, “All I wanted—” You stop her, snapping and pointing, walking away and walking back, obviously pacing. “Yes! Yes— that. It’s perfect.” You stop pacing for a second, standing with your hands on your hips. Robin laughs nervously, fiddling with her zipper jacket, “Uh, what is happening right now? Am I in trouble?” she jokes anxiously, but you ignore her. 

You were thinking. Thinking hard. 

All I wanted. All you wanted? All I wanted. 

You repeat it to her, mumbling the words, gaze still focused on the ground, “All I wanted.” You say, pulling your eyes back up to hers. “Uh.. yeah– All I wanted…was a drink,” she parrots back, nodding dumbly, placating you like a small child doing a math equation. 

You smile mischievously, “Robin, you’re a fucking genius!” You all but shriek, earning some glances from the sidewalk. You pay no attention to them, but Robin does, grabbing your shoulder and pushing you into a walk, looking around her to not draw attention to the both of you, but it’s difficult when you’re wildly smiling and humming out a guitar tempo. 

“Dude, what are you talking about?” She stresses, “Please tell me what’s happening; I have no idea what is socially acceptable to say right now,” she explains nervously, hand moving to grasp at your elbow, keeping you in motion. “Robin, we have to go to the studio right now,” you beg, looking her in her eyes, your gaze shining in inspiration. “What? No, what? Why?” She steps in front of you and halts your walking, “What is happening?” she pleads, leaning forward and pressing her palms together in a praying motion— silently asking you to please elaborate. You move past her, still walking, still thinking. 

Robin jogs to catch up to you, “Tell me what you’re thinking, please,” she begs. You look at her and smirk, “I have an idea for a song,” you conclude. Upon hearing this, Robin smiles like the fucking Cheshire cat.

“Hit me, Tiger.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh when his friend tells him what happened. He pauses for a moment, staring at Scott and waiting for him to say it was just a joke, but he never does, and Eddie nearly dies of laughter, the rest of the band along with him.

“Holy shit,” Eddie gasps between laughter. Gareth snorts, raising his eyebrow in shock as he speaks, “She threw your shit out the window?” 

Scott rolls his eyes, flipping the brown-haired boy off, sipping his beer, and leaning back into the red leather couch. Eddie shakes his head as he swivels around in his chair to mess with the studio soundboard, “That’s what you get when you fuck crazy bitches, man,” Eddie laughs, glancing up to watch Jeff mess around with chords in the sound booth. He listens as he speaks, “I mean, sure, she was hot,” He shrugs, reaching over for his box of cigarettes, “Insane tits or whatever, but at what cost?” He snorts. 

Scott shrugs, downing the rest of his beer and tossing the bottle into the small trash bin near the soundboard. 

“I mean, the sex was definitely good, but she just— I dunno, man,” he shakes his head and dismissively waves his hand, “She’s too much of a firecracker. Angie is way more docile,” he concludes. He snickers as he thinks it over, “Easier to deal with,” he smirks, reaching down to the floor to pick up another beer. Gareth snickers and Eddie grimaces with a shake of his head; he then smirks as he slides a cigarette between his lips, “Nah, the firecrackers are the fun ones, man.” he speaks around the paper as he lights the cancerous stick, sucking and blowing out the smoke. “So, what now?” Gareth asks, taking a swig of his drink as he looks at Scott. 

Scott shrugs, opening the glass bottle of beer and sipping it, “Yeah, y’know… no wedding, I’m with Angie, whatever,” he says, and Eddie chuckles, glancing over his shoulder for a moment, “Yeah, I get it,” he nods, taking another drag off his cigarette, lost in his thoughts. You’re a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good… A lightbulb goes off in his head. 

“Wait, guys,” he swivels around in his chair to face Gareth and Scott. The two boys look up at him as Eddie speaks, “We’ve all had crazy girlfriends, right?” His gaze bounces between the boys as he puffs on the cigarette before standing up and pushing the bud of it into Gareth’s bottle, much to his dismay. He ignores Gareth’s complaints, ignoring the boys laughing at him, pacing the room, mind swirling to the sound of Jeff’s guitar. 

Through the fog of chords and lyrics, Eddie continues speaking, “All of our ex-girlfriends— and ex-fiances,” he blindly points to Scott as he paces, ignoring when Scott scoffs, “are crazy bitches,” he points out, looking back at the group. “I mean, I can’t remember the last time I had a normal fucking girlfriend,” he snickers. The boys look at Eddie as if they’re concerned, confusion written across their faces that Eddie could care less to ease, “This is fucking inspiration, boys! Let’s write this shit down,” He leans on the soundboard, “Let’s expose this chick,” He snickers.

He walks into the sound booth and grabs his guitar from the stand, pulling the strap over his neck as he nods toward Jeff, “Keep playing that,” he orders. Despite his masked confusion, Jeff continues to play the riff he’d been tweaking. Eddie steps up to the mic in the middle of the sound booth, reaching for the headphones to slip them over his head, leaving one ear uncovered. He gestures to Gareth through the glass, motioning for him to tag along.

Gareth puts his beer down and walks in, glancing at Eddie in confusion, “You gonna tell us what we’re playing or?” He sits behind his drums as Eddie tweaks the strings on his guitar. “Just follow along, man.” Eddie distractedly mumbles. Gareth and Jeff glance at one another— Eddie often has moments like this, and they have yet to get used to it. Gareth shrugs, picking up his deeply mangled drumsticks and tapping a beat to Jeff’s strings.

Eddie mumbles to himself, fingers ghosting chords over the frets as he nods his head to the beat. He picks up with Gareth and Jeff’s sound, shredding along to create a fuller sound, the images of the music he’d composed in his mind coming to life just below his fingertips. Scott watches from outside the sound booth, standing up to lean over the soundboard. He watches, intrigued, as they play together, wordlessly tweaking until they all compliment each other. Scott reaches over with a smirk and hits the record button just in time for Eddie to chime in on the mic, finally spitting out the lyrics they’d all be waiting to hear.

And it’s fucking good. 

“Alllriiight!”

It’s raunchy, unhinged, and all things dirty. On top of that, it’s a massive fuck you to Scott’s ex, and Scott can’t keep the grin off his face as he adds the bass to the track, snickering at the words Eddie sings. They work on the song all day, throwing in new verses and tweaks until they feel satisfied for the time being. They sit outside the sound booth and nurse a round of beers as they play the song, listening to what they have so far, grinning and nodding along to the beat, laughing at the absurdity of the lyrics.

“Hey, you’re a crazy bitch, but you fuck so good, I’m on top of it.”

“It’s good… as much as I hate to say it, it’s good.” Scott laughs, rolling his eyes when the boys cheer. Sitting on the swivel chair in front of the soundboard, Eddie reaches out and nudges Scott's foot with his own, “You might get a few slashed tires when she hears this, you know.” He snickers over the rim of his beer bottle.

Scott laughs and shrugs, “Can’t be any worse than what she’s already done.” He jokes. The boys all laugh, watching Jeff as he raises his beer in the gesture of a toast, “To crazy bitches.” The boys all raise their beers in unity, parroting back, “To crazy bitches!” They clink their drinks and laugh, taking sips.

“You’re crazy, but I like the way you fuck me.”

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there,

I’ll beg you nice from my knees.

And when the world treats you way too fairly,

Well, it’s a shame, I’m a dream,”

Your voice filters through the speakers, thick studio headphones skewed on your head as you fiddle with the soundboard knobs and buttons. You sigh and push the headphones to rest around your neck, rubbing your hands tiredly over your face. You take a glance at the clock— 4:34 AM. Goddamn. You had truly been here all night. After your night out with Robin, drinking your feelings away, and your quick epiphany moment, you guys caught a taxi straight here and got to business. That was at 10:46 PM. 

Poor Robin, you put the girl through the wringer. Making her drum out new beats, forcing her to pluck out a bass riff to the best of her abilities. The rest of your band was, without a doubt, asleep, and you didn’t want to bother them with your antics. And, of course, you all were close, but it was just different with you and Robin. You guys could be together for hours and never tire of one another. You just clicked. 

Maybe it was also the fact that you didn’t want to face whatever awkward encounter was bound to happen between Robin and Nancy, opting to wait until the morning to see them face one another. Robin was fully asleep underneath the sound booth, using both of your jackets as a pillow. Her fingers are wrapped around the beer she’d been drinking; hand cuddled up to her face. You pull out your cigarettes from your pocket, pulling one stick out and sliding it between your lips. You light it up and puff on the cigarette, glancing at Robin beneath the table before reaching down and carefully snagging her beer. You take a quick swig, quietly listening to the song. 

“All I wanted was you,

All I wanted was you.”

The guitar that comes in right after is powerful. It’s beautiful; it showcases your anger, your betrayal, your heart that still aches. This was supposed to be a love song for Scott, but after tweaking a few lyrics, it quickly became a song laced with hatred and resentment— a piece of heartbreak and anguish you’re still clearly sorting through. But that’s all that love is, right? Just two people fighting and slashing at each other until one inevitably gives in and waves a white flag? 

You down the rest of your stolen beer, still taking drags of the cigarette and blowing it back out. It wasn’t unusual for you to be the only one here at ungodly hours of the night, but it was one of the first times you were here with your friend and bandmate. Knowing she was here for you after such a chaotic, hectic day, supporting you even at unreasonable hours, was nice.

You replay the lyrics repeatedly, playing with the weak bass Robin was barely able to play. You should go home; you know you should, given how late it is and the dryness that begins to seep through your eyes, but you hate the feeling that runs through your bones when you think about what used to be your and Scott’s home. You don’t want to go home. Home is where everything ended. Home is no longer home— not after what happened. Home is where you’ll go to relieve the day over and over again until you get tired enough to pass out. 

And then it hits you; lyrics, more heartache hits you. The song was initially titled The Only Exception, but the words changed after playing around for several hours. You stuff the cigarette bud in the beer bottle, letting it fizzle out as you get up from your swivel chair to try and find a notebook— a notepad, napkins, or something, but you only find a pen. Frustrated with your lack of writing materials, you look at your surroundings hungrily before your eyes land on Robin’s bare arm. 

You pace back to the soundboard and reach underneath to yank on Robin’s arm, waking her up for a split second. You ignore Robin’s grumbly and slurred “What the fuck?” and proceed with your task as she inevitably falls back asleep. You yank the pen cap off with your teeth and begin jotting down lyrics on Robin’s pale, freckled, tattooed arm. 

“I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times,

And fall asleep on the couch. 

Wake up early to black-and-white reruns,

That escape from my mouth.”

Scott and your favorite thing to do was watch old 1950s classic films. You guys watched them so much, watched so many of them, over and over again, that you could quote them to one another. Tears begin to well up in your eyes as you write these lyrics down, some falling on Robin’s arm and smudging the ink. You curse and press your palm to the running ink to dry whatever can be salvaged from your sloppy work. You drop her arm to the ground and hear her briefly groan as you pace back into the sound booth, picking up your black guitar from the stand and pulling the strap over your upper body. 

You move your headphones around your neck to sit over your ears, waiting for your next move. You start strumming out a guitar riff, basking in the glory of the echoing sounds and its full, tough ring. You push your lips to the microphone and begin mumbling, playing with more lyrics in your head before you sing.

“I could follow you to the beginning,

Just to relive the start.

And maybe then, we’d remember to slow down.

At all of our favorite parts.”

The tears are freefalling now; the dark eyeliner you’d spent the past hours smudging leaves roads of sorrow against your skin. You and Scott were together for seven magical months. Yeah, it was quick— pathetic in a different light, but you’d been mindlessly in love. And fuck, would it have been a mistake if you did end up marrying him. He was a production assistant and a bassist with no new lines of work coming, opting to freeload off his friend’s band, Corroded Coffin, playing with them at shows whenever they needed him. 

And it’s working for him so far— until it doesn’t. As much as you hate to admit, Scott is talented. He’s good with his instrument and has a good ear for sound, but despite his talent, he has no real drive— no actual want to succeed and be at the top of the music pyramid with you. As you continue to play with the guitar, you stop for a second to wipe your eyes, thoroughly smudging your makeup now and probably making you look insane. 

Scott had good moments, though. When it was good, it was good— spontaneous nights out, making out in alleyways like lovesick teenagers, and every second feeling like a movie until the credits rolled— but when it was bad, it was really fucking bad. Fights, stupid arguments, bickering, breaking expensive items, and threatening to leave each other until he makes it up to you with mediocre sex and breakfast in bed the next day. You loved him, you did, and you believe he loved you too, but you just can’t pinpoint where it all went wrong. 

You stop strumming the guitar and huff waterily, setting the guitar back on the stand and ripping your headphones off your head before tossing them to the ground. You sit on a metal, foldable chair beside you and lean forward to push your head into your hands. 

You really blew the fuck up on him. Did you overreact? Did you honestly act like a crazy bitch? Fuck, maybe you should apologize. 

You can hear Robin in the back of your head, nagging and begging you to stop thinking self-destructive thoughts like this, telling you you’re insane for even thinking of apologizing, but you just can’t help it. You venture down the deep, dark, but welcoming rabbit hole of psycho-analyzing every romantic relationship you’ve ever had. None of your relationships have lasted— the ones in high school, obviously, but you’ve been out of that shit hole for years now, yet you’re still playing the never-ending game of kiss and tell.

Life in Hawkins was a weird, dull one. All the boys you brought home never shared the same interests as you and certainly did not like that you had a mind of your own. They didn’t like the clothes you wore, or the makeup you did, or the music you listened to. They thought you and the rest of the band were stupid and wasting your lives trying to be something big with the weird sound you carried. Nothing about you or the people you hung out with fit the cookie-cutter shape of Hawkins, and you learned that the hard way. 

You were more of a dirty secret for boys in your school. Nobody wanted to express their love or attraction to you openly, but they sure as hell did so behind closed doors. Your first boyfriend, Brady, was a star on the wrestling team; he didn’t mind showing you off much because nobody had the guts to talk shit about him— too scared to get sucker punched. Brady lasted a few months before you eventually cut ties with each other. 

There were a few others after Brady, all meeting the same dead end you’re so familiar with. Although there was one guy— Eddie Munson— people believed you would be perfect for each other. You liked the same music, dressed relatively the same, and had shitty high school bands nobody wanted to listen to. Logistically, it was a perfect match; the only problem was Eddie Munson is an asshole. 

Scum of the earth, piece of shit, grade-A asshole.

Scott was friends with him, and on occasion, you would sometimes cross paths at parties or hangouts with mutual friends; and every single run-in you’ve had with the man left you with a splitting migraine and an itching impulse to smash his head through a window. He’s awful; he doesn’t respect you or any woman for that matter, he acts like he’s a living god, and he and his shitty band won (stole) that fucking music contest in Hawkins back in ‘87, and you’ll never forget it. That’s how you met him, and your guys’ race to the top hasn’t let up since.

And now that you think of it, it’s not surprising that Eddie and Scott get along so well— they’re both sexist assholes. 

You’re milling in your thoughts for what seems like hours, tears dried and itching against your skin. You’re not sure how long you sit in the sound booth, but before you know it, Robin’s hoarse voice is cracking through the speakers of the sound booth, “As much as I think you’re a musical genius and love the way you work in mysterious ways, it’s extremely late, and we both need to catch some sleep before tomorrow.”

Your face twists in confusion, “Tomorrow? What’s special about tomorrow?” You ask, your voice cracking. Robin shifts on her feet, brows furrowing at your confusion, “We’re meeting with the record label. Remember we’re playing them our new album?”

Fuck. You completely forgot about that, and all of those songs, except for maybe three, are based around your stupid ex-fiance that just dumped you for your best friend. You sigh, dropping your head in your hands and running your palms over your face. You let out a long groan into your hands, not even hearing Robin opening the door to the sound booth and walking up to you. Her chilled fingers wrap around your wrists to pull your hands away from your face. Her blue eyes are tired and full of love and warmth as she squats before you to gaze at you, “Talk to me.”

Tears brim your eyes at her soft voice, and you wince— you really wish you could stop fucking crying. You rub at your teary eyes and shake your head, “It’s just—” you sigh and blearily blink down at Robin, “they’re all about him, Rob.” You frown.

Robin patiently waits for you to find the words, comfortingly squeezing your tear-dampened fingers. “Every song on the album is about him and I… I really don’t wanna spend an entire tour singing about him.” You softly speak, avoiding her gaze.

The brown-haired girl shuffles closer to you, ducking into your gaze and shrugging, “That’s okay,” she shakes her head, “We can scrap it. I mean, the label might be a little pissed, but just… play them what we did tonight, and I guarantee you they’ll extend our time.”

You furrow your brows and shake your head, “What? No. Robin, the song’s not finished—” “We don’t get another chance with this, Tiger. We either play them what we did tonight or give them the album.”

And you know Robin is right; she does not want to give you an ultimatum, but it’s the inevitable truth. You can either play the song and hope it’s the best thing the label has ever heard, or you suck it up and play them the album full of bittersweet words that leave a sticky residue clogging your throat.

You look at Robin, her patient and tired gaze locked on your face. You chew on the inside of your cheek, thinking it over for a moment— and it could work. The new song you’d just recorded is insane— nothing you’ve ever done before and, without a doubt, has a groundbreaking sound. It could work.

Max and Nancy are going to kill you tomorrow.

You nod your head, “Okay,” you breathe. Robin’s lips slowly stretch into a smile, “I’m gonna play it for them.” You nod. Robin shoots up to her feet with a cheer.

“Perfect! Now wipe those tears, and let's get the fuck out of here.”

You and Robin look like hell. You’re sporting heavy undereye bags with dark circles, while Robin opted to cover her evident lack of sleep with a pair of dark shades. Nancy and Max look concerned when they see you both sitting in the lobby of your label’s building. Nancy, of course, chastised you for your lateness while Max just snickered in the corner. Max suddenly makes a face as she speaks, “Why do you guys look like you’ve been hit by a bus?”

Robin tiredly groans, shifting in her seat with a yawn, “Stayed at the studio late.” She mumbles. Nancy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, “Why? I thought we had everything ready for today.” She points out, obviously concerned. Nothing would ever get done if you didn’t have Nancy in the band. Now that you look at her, she has a manila folder in her hands, most likely stuffed with questions, comments, concerns, budgets, and more. She was more like Erica’s assistant than your bass player. But fuck, could her skilled fingers pluck out a riff.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, glancing over at Robin, who seems to be now passed out behind her glasses, offering you no help. You scoff. Of course. You mentally punch Robin in the face. You fidget with the rings on your fingers as you begin to explain. “So, basically,” you start, “I came home yesterday and found Scott and Angie fucking in my bed, so I threw their shit out the window and then called Robin,” you barely pay attention to Nancy and Max’s widening eyes as you spew out the events of yesterday. You knew they already knew, probably from Erica or the fucking tabloids. Hell, the whole fucking world knew, but they acted like this was their first time hearing about it. 

You ramble on about the events, telling them about you finding inspiration and dragging Robin to the studio, drunk, only to decide to scrap the album you’d all been working on for the past few months. 

That last bit of information didn’t go so well, however. 

“You what?”

You wince at Max’s sneering tone, glancing at Nancy to try and get a read on her expressionless face. “Please tell me you’re joking,” Max says, voice teetering on the precipice of panic. You wish Robin would wake the fuck up. “I… I know I’m really taking a leap of faith here, but I need you guys to trust me on this,” you plead, gaze hopefully bouncing between the two women, “Please.”

Max folds her arms across her chest, tongue rolling against the inside of her cheek before she shakes her head, “I swear if this fucks us over, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.” She breaks, and you’re just thankful she agrees to follow your and Robin’s plan. She turns around and walks over to plop into the seat on the other side of the lobby, glancing at you before speaking, “Sorry about Scott, by the way…” she mumbles. “Maybe it’s a good thing; I never liked all those love songs anyways…” She smiles apologetically, and you huff out a chuckle.

Nancy nudges her foot against your leather boot, “You were out of his league anyway. He was dumber than a rock.” She adds to Max’s apology. You snicker and thank them for their condolences. Nancy sits on the chair next to Max and sighs heavily, “Did you tell Erica about the change?” she asks, already flipping through her folder. You pretended you didn’t hear the question, which was not a good idea. 

The two girls begin to panic at your eerie silence. Nancy’s face falls, and Robin fucking snores, “You did tell Erica, right?” She presses. Your silence says enough.

Max groans, leaning forward to sink her head into the palm of her hands, “We’re so fucked.”

And when the time comes, you’re not exactly sure what the label is thinking. All the board members wear the same unwavering expression as they listen to All I Wanted. You glance at Nancy and Max, who are both visibly shaken with nerves; Max’s leg bouncing at an ungodly rate beneath the table, and Nancy’s poor fingers picked to shreds. Robin, who’s now awake, is busying herself with doodling random sketches on the napkin in front of her, and you’re— well, you’re hardly breathing. 

Erica looks thoroughly pissed; you don’t doubt she’d thought about strangling you the second you announced you were scraping the album. You could tell she was itching to make some phone calls as her stone-hard gaze stayed on you throughout the whole listening session. You pretended you didn’t notice her.

When the demo ends, a thick silence settles over the room, and you lean forward, pressing pause on the track to prevent the CD from repeating. You awkwardly scratch the side of your neck, “I-It’s not done; I’m still working on it, but um—” You glance at the table of faces and gulp. You haven’t been this nervous in longer than you can remember. “I know it can be something. Something big.”

James, the CEO of the record label, clears his throat and leans forward, pressing his elbows onto the thick wooden table. A burning cigarette hangs between his fingers as he points to the middle of the table where the CD player sits, “This is about Scott, yes?”

All eyes are on you, and you have no choice but to nod yes. James takes a drag of his cigarette, eyebrows furrowing as he silently thinks. You glance at your friends, a wave of nerves washing through your body at the anticipation. “What happened yesterday can never happen again. You almost ruined your image. Almost.” He finally speaks, his stern gaze locked in on you. You almost want to shrink in your seat, feeling like a child being scolded in the principal's office as he continues to speak. “You're a good talent, but if you don't know how to act like a grown woman, you won’t have a place here.” 

You scoff and open your mouth, a smart response on the tip of your tongue, until Robin harshly kicks the heel of her leather boot into your ankle. You hiss in pain, sucking on your teeth to poorly conceal it. You relent and nod your head, “I understand.”

James nods and flicks the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray beside him, leaning back in his chair with a heavy sigh, “Now,” his lips split into a smug grin, a grin that tells you that you won, “Get this track finished by the end of the week. I want it on air by Monday morning.”

Monday morning, Eddie is hauling ass down I-405, without a doubt breaking many traffic laws he could care less about, given he’s late to his studio session with the band. When is he not late? He’s got a cigarette hanging from his lips and the smell of last night's alcohol on his clothes. As he meticulously swerves and weaves in and out of LA traffic, he jams his finger to turn his radio on, flipping through static, noise, ads, shitty pop music, and landing on a seemingly decent Rock station. 

He takes his cigarette out of his mouth and puffs the rest before tossing it out of the open window. His hair tousles from the wind, and he bats the curly strands away whenever they fly into his view. His ringed fingers grip the steering wheel, swerving out of the way of a truck before honking and throwing up a middle finger. What he misses during that exchange is the introduction of the song.

“Next up is a new hit single named All I Wanted by Daughters of Vampira! Daughters of Vampira will be going on tour soon; stay tuned for details!”

Then, the music starts when he finally starts to slow down after narrowly missing the truck.

“Think of me when you’re out, when you’re out there,

I’ll beg you nice from my knees.

And when the world treats you way too fairly,

Well, it’s a shame, I’m a dream.”

Your voice filters through his car stereo, unbeknownst to Eddie, and he glances down at his music console. He slowly turns the volume dial up, intrigued by the sound and wanting to know where it’s leading. When the ferocious guitar shred comes in, his face twists in approval, turning the volume even louder as he bobs his head to the tune. Whoever’s band this was, is fucking good. It’s not every day you hear a good Rock song sung by a woman, he thinks.

“All I wanted was you, oh,

All I wanted was you, oh!”

Eddie’s not sure why it takes him so long to realize the voice playing through his speakers is none other than the lead singer of that stupid fucking feminazi band Daughters of Vampira. He nearly chokes when he realizes it’s your voice, turning the volume up to max and listening to the words.

It’s… sad. The lyrics are like the gut-wrenching heartbreak you see in movies, aching and drenched with the grief of a love that was supposed to be great. And your voice is so fucking raw, so angry, and filled with pain that it brings Eddie to a stand-still, the skin on his arms raising in tiny bumps at the sheer emotion. Eddie almost forgets he’s in his car until he hears the car behind him honking, the man behind the wheel yelling at him to go now that the traffic light has turned green. He doesn’t move an inch, afraid he’ll miss a beat of this slice of heartache.

The song ends, and Eddie turns off his radio, choosing to spend the rest of his ride in silence as the gnawing feeling of guilt settles in his gut. By the sound of it, Scott really did a fucking number on you— tore your heart out, chewed it up, spit it out, and stepped on it like a spider on a sidewalk— and Eddie knows what that feels like; he’s had his heart broken before so he knows what it feels like to be so angry at the love you had for a person. It’s a shitty feeling.

So, Eddie’s not sure why he decides to be an asshole and tell the boys about your new song, but he does. The second he enters the studio, he tells Gareth to turn on the radio.

“...Why?” Gareth questions with a tone of suspicion. Eddie brushes his question off and walks to lean over the desk, turning the radio on and beginning to switch through the stations. “Uh, Eddie… we’ve got some work to do, man, we don’t have time for—” “Shh, just give me a second,” Eddie snaps. 

“It’s gotta be playing somewhere.” Eddie mumbles, eyebrows furrowed, ringed finger going overtime on the dial, abruptly stopping when he finally hears it. “This is it! This is it; just listen.” Eddie turns the volume up and stands up to his full height, hands on his hips, and chews on his lip as they silently listen to the song.

Jeff is the first to speak through the sound of drums and intense chords, “Why are we listening to this?” Eddie waves him off, telling him just to wait— just wait until the verse.

“I think I’ll pace my apartment a few times,

And fall asleep on the couch. 

Wake up early to black-and-white reruns,

That escape from my mouth.”

Scott’s eyes widen, striding over to Eddie’s side and gazing at the boombox in shock, “No fuckin’ way.” He breathes. Eddie looks at Scott as he reaches over to increase the volume. Gareth twirls his drumstick between his knuckles and deeply sighs as he leans back in his chair and kicks his feet up onto the soundboard, “Dude, no offense, but why are we listening to this shit?” He asks. Scott turns to the boys and points back to the radio, “That’s my fucking bitch ex singing about me.”

Jeff and Gareth’s eyes widen, both boys leaning forward in their seats to listen to the lyrics. Scott curses and reaches over to shut the radio off, letting a thick silence fall over the room. Jeff is the first to break and nervously laugh, and Eddie grins, Gareth falling into a fit of laughter behind Jeff’s. “Why the fuck are you guys laughing?” Scott sneers.

Eddie chuckles, reaching out to rest his hands on Scott’s shoulders and turn him to face each other, “You don’t get it, man,” Eddie begins. Scott’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and Eddie smiles mischievously, “This is the perfect time to drop Crazy Bitch.”

You nearly blow a gasket when you first hear Corroded Coffin’s new song. Nancy did quite a good job of bringing you down to somewhat of a levelheaded state and getting you to understand that killing Scott or slashing his tires wouldn’t be the wisest of decisions to make. You still aren’t convinced.

You try your best to ignore the song, switching the radio to a different station whenever it plays, but it seems like that fucking track follows you wherever you go. A week after the song's release, you’re walking down the street with Robin, browsing the stores that catch your eye and chatting about whatever comes to mind.

You hardly notice the crowd gathered outside the store you are in until Robin points it out, nudging your side and nodding towards the window, “Looks like we’ve got company today.” she mumbles. You curse, shelving the shirt you’d been looking at as you grumble to Robin, “Seriously, how the fuck did they find us?”

You suppose the rest of your day out won’t last much longer, so you and Robin decide to make your way home, stepping out into the crowd and shoving through a sea of flashing bulbs. 

Over time, you’ve mustered up the strength to ignore the questions paparazzi throw at you; questions about who you’re dating, your sexuality, your political beliefs— questions of generally no substance or anything to do with your music. You’ve become numb to the reality of your life being plastered on tabloids and riddled with lies; it doesn’t really hurt you anymore. 

However, you’re still a human being, and you have moments where you crack, and today seems to be one of those moments when a man yells out, “You were seen dumping your ex-fiance Scott's items into the street! So is the song true? Did you and Eddie Munson have an affair? Is that why you and Scott broke up?” 

Robin tenses, glancing at you and silently pleading for you to just keep walking. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

You glare but smile at the man, flashing your white, shark-like teeth, “If you wanna know so bad, why don’t you ask Scott and Angie yourself?” You sneer. 

A few of the men snicker, one whistling and commenting about you being feisty, but you ignore it and continue as you and Robin finally reach your car, “And for the record, I wouldn’t touch that asshole with a ten-inch pole. His dick is small.” You grin sarcastically, opening your car door and getting in without another word. You hear the crowd erupt in more questions outside your car, some scribbling stuff down on their notepads and some laughing.

You groan in annoyance, buckling yourself in and starting the car as Robin settles in the passenger seat. You don’t miss the chance to flip the mob of men off when you drive off, leaving them behind with screeching tires. It’s silent until Robin chuckles, and you glance at her, “What’s so funny?”

Robin shrugs and shakes her head, “Nothing,” she says, “Just that Erica’s gonna murder you.” You roll your eyes and slide a pair of shades on. “When is she not wanting to murder me?” 

The media erupted after your comment about womanizer and rockstar Eddie Munson. Many fans came to your aid, voicing the truth of the breakup and defending you and your band. In contrast, many other fans— Corroded Coffin’s cult of assholes— came to Eddie’s defense, stating that he was only doing charity work to get your name in the papers. That you were fucking your way to the top of the music industry and much, much more deeply misogynistic statements. 

You didn’t care for any of it. You, your friends, your family, and your band knew what actually happened. The best part is that Scott knew the truth, and he was a shit fucking liar. He couldn’t cover up what happened if his life depended on it. It made you think of how he could lie about the affair for as long as he did. You don’t dwell on that thought for too long, growing tired of digging deeper into the pit of despair Scott had so happily tossed you into.

At the end of the day, your image is in shambles, and if your image is fucked, then so is the bands. Daughters of Vampira wasn’t booking anything; shows, meet-and-greets, autograph signings— nothing. Even though All I Wanted was an enormous hit and ended up in the charts, people couldn’t get over the fact that you, the lead singer, tend to be explosive. You would’ve felt bad about this if Eddie’s image hadn’t suffered the same fate. 

Eddie and his band immediately stopped booking shows after their song Crazy Bitch. Of course, it was a big success, but only because the drama fueled it. Young women stopped throwing themselves at the band and instead opted for screaming, “Woman haters!” and “Sexist pigs!” at them whenever they were out. It had been fucking rough, and it only got worse after Eddie commented to the paparazzi while he was out on a coffee run in the streets of Los Angeles.

“How the fuck do they always find me?” Eddie grumbles to himself, putting on a fake smile for the group.

Eddie was rocking a pair of shades, thinking of ways to quickly escape the mob, when a young boy approached him from the crowd. He had a Corroded Coffin shirt on with a photograph of Eddie clenched to his chest as he kindly asked for an autograph. 

“Sure, kid,” Eddie crouches down to the boy’s height and gently takes the photograph and Sharpie, "who am I signing it for?” He smiles softly at the boy, “For Thomas, sir!” The boy politely says, his eyes shining in excitement. “Thomas, sick name, man.” Eddie compliments, yanking the cap off with his teeth. He signs his name with a Let’s fuckin’ ROCK! in the corner, putting the lid back and handing the photo back to the boy. 

He smiles when the boy squeals in excitement and offers him a fist bump before standing up to his full height. “Thank you, Mr. Munson!” Eddie snickers and nods, “‘Course, but hey, don’t call me Munson; call me Ed,” He smirks, and the kid laughs. “Mr. Muns– Ed, I have a question for you,” the kid shyly asks. 

Eddie’s heart implodes at the cuteness of this little shithead and chuckles as he responds, “Shoot, kid, I’m all ears,” Eddie ignores the flashes from the cameras, taking photos of this pure and innocent moment. He ignores the coos from the women, from the kid’s parents, all of it, just zoned in on this small child meeting his hero. Him.

“Ed, is it true that you hate girls?”

And just like that, the moment is over.

Eddie turns red in the face and forces a harsh but nervous laugh. The crowd closes in upon hearing the exchange and begins asking a multitude of questions. The parents snag their son away and start expressing profuse apologies that Eddie waves off. “Nah, nah, the kid’s fine. But uh, to answer your question, no, that isn’t true, Tommy boy,” he says, looking at the child standing beside his mother’s legs. He takes out a pack of smokes and opens it, sliding a cigarette between his lips as he adds, “I am a really big fan of girls,” he flashes a dazzling smile around the stick and does finger guns at the small kid before he turns and begins to walk away. 

He’s forgotten all about his coffee, and now all he wants is to get the fuck outta there. 

He lights the cigarette up and ignores the crowd of paparazzi following him, cameras still in motion. He rolls his eyes, body buzzing in annoyance from the kid's question and the crowd. He continues walking the street as more questions and fans approach him. As Eddie signs a woman’s photograph, a cigarette hanging from his lips, an interviewer comments with a camera already zoned in and recording Eddie’s face. No doubt this will be on MTV tonight. No doubt he won’t hear the end of it from Dustin and Steve.

“Eddie, did you hear what the frontwoman of Daughters of Vampira has said about you? Can we get a response?” He shoves the mic into Eddie’s face.

Eddie’s lips break into a grin, but he doesn’t look up from the autograph he’s signing. “Yeah… yeah, I heard, and y’know what? She can come find out herself if it’s small or not,” He looks up and smirks right at the camera, “Have a nice day.” He smiles tightly at the interviewer and hastily flags down a taxi, hopping in and yelling at the driver to step on it. He watches as the crowd grows smaller and smaller with distance, his heart thundering in his chest. He takes deep breaths to slow his pulse down, to stop thinking of you. 

It never seems to slow as his mind can’t move on from you or that damn song.

Both the managers of Corroded Coffin and Daughters of Vampira are pushed to the limit with you and Eddie. Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington are co-managers of Corroded Coffin, mainly because Steve has the money and Dustin has the brains to man the operation. All Steve really does is cut the checks and warn the team when to cut back on the extracurriculars. 

Erica, Steve, and Dustin are all from Hawkins and are quite familiar with each other due to living in a small town where everyone knows everybody. They, along with all members of Corroded Coffin and Daughters of Vampira, all sort of grew up with one another in the 80s and have always been on this whimsical journey together. As the years went by, you all drifted, more so because of the competition, but aside from the band, the managers stayed relatively civil with one another. Erica, Steve, and Dustin stayed in touch because sometimes they couldn’t handle the two bands, which is why Erica summoned the two boys to a bar in downtown LA.

Erica Sinclair is seemingly always tested by you and has no idea where to go or what her next move should be. She has times when she feels like a single mother dealing with an angsty teen, and when those moments teeter on disastrous, she makes calls— the call.

“I mean, I have just had it up to here,” Erica moves her hand up in the air to emphasize her annoyance, “with these girls, I mean, my god!” She shakes her head as she sips her red wine, the two boys nodding from across from her. “Trust me,” Steve scoffs, “we get it.” 

Dustin nods, taking a sip of his Shirley Temple and smacking his lips before adding, “We’re in the same boat too— with Eddie,” Dustin starts, drinking his Shirley Temple out of a bendy straw. 

“Yeah, he’s always been a pain in the ass, ever since high school,” Steve continues, sharing a look with Dustin, who tiredly nods, “But it has never been this bad. Normally we can get a hold on him running his mouth, but it’s just been…” Steve falters and trails off, struggling to grasp the words to explain Eddie’s childlike behavior. Erica nods, “I know what you mean,” She makes a face and holds her wine glass out to cheer with them. Dustin clinks his Shirley Temple, and Steve clinks his beer, them all taking a sip.

“Both band’s images are terrible. It won’t be long till we’re losing more money,” Steve grumbles, taking another swig of his beer. “I think we should just lock them all in a room together till they get along,” Erica jokes, earning a chortle from Steve and a cackle from Dustin. They all sigh in unison, a comfortable silence falling over them. 

Suddenly, Dustin sits up straight, aggressively snapping his fingers before pointing to Erica.

Steve jumps and makes a face at Dustin, grumbling about how annoying Dustin’s theatrics are. Erica rolls her eyes, already used to the boy’s antics. “Well? Are you gonna tell us about your nerdy little lightbulb moment or keep making a scene?” She sneers over her wine glass rim, taking a sip. Dustin looks back from Steve’s annoyed face to Erica’s tired one, basking in the dramatics.

“Why don’t we do just that?” He finally says.

Steve and Erica share a look. Typically, Dustin has these moments, and Steve and Erica have to entertain them, but Erica thinks Henderson might be onto something. Steve scoffs and leans back in his chair, “I doubt they’d last a week locked in a house before one kills the other.” Steve mumbles, clearly missing Dustin’s case in point.

Erica, however, knows just where Dustin’s mind has gone— to the motherland of brilliant-fucking-idea. Erica puts her glass down and leans her elbows on the table, resting her chin on the backs of her folded hands. “When you say just that, you mean…?” She looks at the boy quizzically, praying he means what she thinks he means. Steve puts his hand on the back of Dustin’s chair and leans forward, “I’m not really picking up on this guys,” He uses his other hand to lazily gesture. Dustin ignores Steve and nods slowly, “Oh hell yeah, I mean that.” He says, smirking mischievously. Erica and Dustin share a grin, a playful gleam in their eyes. Steve groans on the side in annoyance.

“Let’s book a fuckin’ tour bus, boys,” Erica concludes, and Dustin erupts in cheers, the two of them clinking their drinks. Steve finally understands, and his eyes widen, “Oh! Holy shit, that’s fucking genius.”

Erica laughs and finishes off the last of her wine. “Tiger is gonna kill me.” She smirks and shakes her head, sighing. Dustin and Steve share a look and chuckle a little bit, “Her reaction won’t be as bad as Munson’s. He’s gonna fuckin’ lose it.” Dustin says, slurping on his straw.

A few weeks pass before Erica, Steve, and Dustin manage to rally both bands in a conference room. The tension in the room is almost unbearable. For the most part, the band members seem more interested in knowing why they’ve been summoned together— the real tension is at the end of the table, where you and Eddie sit across from each other. Eddie wears a snickering grin to go along with his darkened shades, and you— well, if looks could kill, everybody in this room would be six feet under and crossing into the afterlife. 

You’re pissed. Annoyed that you’re being forced to breathe the same air as that fuckface Eddie Munson, and Eddie could not be more pleased with himself. Eddie gazes at each of the girls across from him; Max, who’s glaring at your managers and bouncing her knee in evident impatience, Nancy, who couldn’t look more uninterested if she tried; and Robin, who seems more intrigued with the wood paneling of the wall to look at anything else. He makes the mistake of looking at you, earning him a nicely silver-wrapped middle finger which he winks at.

“If you two are done acting like children down there, we’d like to get this meeting started,” Erica announces from her seat at the head of the table. All eyes turn to her, and she sarcastically smiles, opening her mouth to begin speaking until you cut her off, “Whatever fucking bullshit you three have planned, I won’t be a part of it. Not with this asshole.” You gesture to the curly-haired boy across from you.

Gareth and Jeff snicker, and you glare at them, ignoring Robin’s elbow jabbing into your side. “It’s funny that you think you have a choice, Tiger,” Erica says, tilting her head with a grin. You begin to bounce your leg impatiently, jaw clenching as the ticking time bomb in your mind begins to speed up. 

Dustin clears his throat and stands up, gathering everyone's attention as he clasps his hands. “Let’s cut straight to the chase,” he begins, “Your music careers are fucked.”

Jeff breathily laughs to the side, and Erica glares at him, quickly diminishing his obvious amusement. “Somehow, the seven of you have managed to obliterate your band's image in less than a month,” Dustin points out, picking up a stack of magazines before him and walking calmly about the room. He tosses a magazine out into the middle of the table, “Misogynists,” another magazine, “Anti-feminist,” another magazine, “Chauvinists,” another magazine— the final one, “Woman-haters.”

You all look at the magazines silently until you mumble, “Sounds about right,” causing Eddie to scoff and roll his eyes beneath his shades. “What? You’re mad the media is finally realizing how full of shit you all are?” You prod with a tilt of your head. “At least nobody’s saying I should be sent to a fucking ward.”

Your eyes narrow, and you begin to form a response, but Erica rises from her seat loudly, startling the room as her loud voice booms through the space, “The media is tearing both of you to shreds,” she leans forward to press her palms against the cool wooden table, heated gaze darting between you and Eddie.

“Both of your bands aren’t booking gigs, and you're losing money faster than you earn it,” she points out, watching as you all cower from the truth. She waves a manicured finger between both sides of the table, “This stupid little fucking back and forth you’ve created either ends here or on the road.”

Robin’s face twists in confusion, a raspy voice speaking up for the first time, “On the road?”

Steve turns to her and grins, “Yes. On the road. Together.”

Gareth leans forward in his chair, confused as he speaks, “What, like a retreat type deal?” He questions. Dustin slaps a paper down in front of him, “No. Tour. Nine months, ninety-two shows.”

Gareth doesn’t get much time to take in the information on the paper before Eddie snatches it out of his hands, shades pushed up into his hair as he leans in to gape at it. A list of tour dates, an ongoing and never-ending fucking list.

“You’re not serious.” He says. Steve chuckles at the end of the table, nodding his head, “As serious as a heart attack.”

You’re next to snatch the paper away for a gander, ignoring the rest of the room as everyone erupts in a fit of protest. You stand with your back to the table as you gaze through each date, your neck heating up with anger as your fingers crease the paper. You turn around, face twisted in rage, wrinkling the paper in your shaking fist as you storm up to where Erica stands, waiting for you to say your piece with an unwavering impression.

You hold the crinkled paper up as you stand before her, “You’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m doing shows with these pieces of shits.” You sneer, tossing the paper onto the table. Erica raises an eyebrow, looking at you as if you’ve gone off the deep end. The room enters a thick silence at your outburst, all eyes on the standoff between you and Erica. “Call the tour off, or I’m out.”

“What?” Robin leans forward to gaze at you, eyes widened in shock at your words, “You’re not leaving the band, Y/N, you— you can’t.”

You ignore Robin and step closer to Erica, eyes burning into her gaze as you speak, and Erica has never seen you this angry in all her years of knowing you. “Call it off.”

Erica will let you believe you have the upper hand for your peace of mind, but when it comes down to reality, you both know you don’t stand a chance against her force of nature. Erica is calm and uncannily patient as she speaks to you, “You’re at a dead-end street, Tiger,” she starts, “You either make a way, or you go back to Hawkins with your tail between your legs like everyone expected.” 

Erica sits back in her chair, not even bothering to look at you as she busies herself with the paperwork before her when she adds, “You make the call.”

You glare down at her, throat closing in anger and betrayal. You don’t say another word as you storm out, leaving the room with a booming echo of the heavy glass door slamming shut. Erica sighs, settling back in her chair and gazing at the rest of the band members, who are all silently fuming in anger. “Now, does anyone else have something to say or something of substance to add, or are we done here?” Eddie rises from his seat with clear annoyance, “This is bullshit,” the force of his movement sends his chair back to the wall as he walks out of the room, just as angrily as you had previously done.

The remaining band members sit in silence, avoiding each other's gaze, and Steve breathily laughs, “Well, Dustin, you were wrong,” he teases, smirking when Dustin and Erica turn to him. “Eddie took that pretty well.”

The band members glance at the managers, and Dustin sighs as he leans back in his chair, twisting his mouth in thought and tapping his pen against the table.

“This is gonna be more work than I thought.”

————

a/n: AHHH, YOU'VE MADE IT TO THE END!!! WE HOPE YOU LIKED THIS AND LOVE THEM SO FAR; more to come sooonnnn <3

————

teeny taglist: @tommyvelvet @oeuryale

[eiightysixbaby]

silver springs: part one

You Make Loving Fun

i never did believe in miracles, but i’ve a feeling it’s time to try

word count: 7.7k

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!fem!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie’s band gets the offer of a lifetime, sending you on a spiral into international fame. this is everything the five of you have ever wanted - producing an album, going on tour. what could go wrong?

cw: 18+ ONLY. this chapter does contain SMUT - although brief, there are depictions of unprotected sex. i try to keep use of y/n to a minimum - reader’s nickname is dove/dovey and this will be used frequently throughout the fic. drug and alcohol mentions, reader and the band drink & get high, and i think that’s it, really. the rest of this chapter is pretty tame!

authors note: ah here it is! the first chapter of my 1970s band au! please remember that future chapters of this fic will contain some heavier subject matter (cheating, drug/alcohol abuse, detailed depictions of sex). if this bothers you, DO NOT READ. i’m very happy to finally put chapter one out into the world and i hope you all enjoy! listen to the series playlist here!

May 17th, 1972. Hawkins, Indiana

You and your bandmates sit sprawled across the furniture in Steve’s living room, bouncing around song ideas. Warm spring air wafts in through an open window, birdsong lilting softly in the trees outside. A clock ticks methodically from the wall by the front door. Robin dangles upside down off of a chair, taking a puff of a cigarette, her hair dangling to the floor.

“What?” She catches you staring at her, “I can focus better like this, I’m serious.”

You huff a laugh, writing and rewriting a lyric in your song book, then scratching it out altogether. She softly sings to herself, trying to will the lyrics to come to her.

“Sweet, wonderful youuu….. you are, no- you make… you make me…”

The four of you - you, Steve, Robin, and your drummer Gareth - had been sitting for what felt like hours. Trying, and ultimately failing to get some new songs brewing. Your fellow frontman and boyfriend, Eddie, was off doing god-knows-what. He wouldn’t tell you guys, just said he was gonna be showing up to Steve’s late. Steve mindlessly plucks at his bass, frowning as he starts to get the hang of a riff but then loses it.

The five of you started your band, The Rumors, about a year ago, had humble beginnings in Gareth’s garage - much to his neighbors’ dismay. You would spend hours upon hours toiling away in that garage, writing, rewriting, perfecting your songs. And really, there was a lot of talent there, even from the very beginning. You knew how to lift each other up, encourage one another to be better musicians, and it was a great dynamic to be coming up in. You’d been extremely fortunate in your close-knit hometown, being offered slots to perform at local bars, and word would get out and occasionally you’d travel to bars and clubs on the outskirts of Hawkins. Small crowds, and hardly any of them were paid gigs, but it sure as hell got word around.

As for you and Eddie, the two of you were high school sweethearts, formed a bond over your love of music and the rest was history. Two fools in love, you started writing songs together for fun, Eddie would play his acoustic as you would sing. His uncle Wayne picked up on the talent you two had, always saying things like ‘You kids should start a band or somethin’. Bet you’d make it real far.’ At first the two of you just brushed it off, figured he was just being nice. But after you’d both graduated, and neither of you had a clue what you wanted to do with your lives now, the thought of starting a band lingered, bounced around in your brain until you couldn’t think of anything else. It consumed Eddie’s thoughts as much as it consumed yours. He knew Gareth from middle school, knew he played drums and ended up pitching the idea to him - and he was on board immediately. You knew Steve, who was learning bass at the time, and your mutual friend Nancy was dating Robin, who was wicked good on the keys and had a stellar voice.

Everything fell into place just like that. Your group started practicing together, and became pretty much inseparable. You all really fell into a groove, taking on different roles in the band as you learned each other’s personalities. Robin was quick-witted and smart, always there to listen to your problems or offer advice, and man - she’s a chatterbox. She’s great at songwriting and always brings strong ideas to the table. She’s loyal to her loved ones, and she’s a huge softie when it comes to you guys, and especially Nancy. Steve is basically the mom of the band, yelling at Eddie when he shows up to practice late, giving Robin rides everywhere, keeping you all in line and making sure no one ends up dead on a night at the bars. He tends to come across as very serious - business oriented. All about the music and perfecting his craft. But when you get to know him, he’s a sweetheart. He just wants to make sure everything goes according to plan, is all. Gareth is the comedic relief, a phenomenal drummer, and he knows how to party. He’s kind, always welcoming, and all in all just happy to be here. He’s always willing to let Eddie bounce ideas off him, and you can count on him to give you his genuine opinions. Eddie is the showstopper, truly. He can be a little disorganized and scattered at times but he’s passionate about what he does. A social butterfly, a sweet-talker, excellent at getting his way. He’s also just downright pretty (but you were definitely biased). He’s determined and never lets a setback stop him. The perfect frontman, confident and loud. And as for you, you’re typically the peacekeeper, the sweet one. You have a soft heart, you love fiercely, trust willingly, and are willing to give your all for this band. You’re the other side of Eddie’s coin, and you’re happy to follow him on your shared dream.

You guys were in the process of trying to write an album, trying to get some bigger shows, get an ‘in’ with someone who had connections in the music scene. As frustrating as it could be at times, none of you were willing to give up. Eddie would always talk about how you guys were going to be the biggest rock band in the world someday, like it was a sure thing, and god how you all hoped he was right.

“Seriously, what should come after this line- ‘Sweet wonderful you, you make me…’ you make me what!?” Robin sighs dramatically, sitting upright and putting her cigarette out in the ashtray.

“How about, ‘You make me happy with the things you do’?” you offer, lighting up when Robin’s eyes go wide.

“Yes! That’s it, oh my god. Thank you thank you,” she scribbles it in her notebook, humming the tune to herself.

“That’s going somewhere, Rob. Seriously, don’t give up on that one,” Steve encourages, moving to stand behind her chair and give her shoulders a squeeze.

Just as Robin’s about to throw more lyrics out, the front door swings open, and Eddie comes barreling in. He’s biting on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to hold his smile back from breaking free.

“Eddie… what’s that face? What’re you up to?” Gareth asks, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

“Oh, nothing…. just, y’know, got us a gig at The Corner in Indianapolis, where Scott Pierce may or may not be watching us play,” Eddie’s lips twist into a smirk as he talks.

The Corner was an insanely popular club in the city, plenty of bands playing there, getting their start. Scott Pierce was a huge name in the music industry, well-known manager for many different bands and artists and had as many connections as a small band from Hawkins could possibly ask for. How Eddie had pulled this off, you had no idea.

“What!? Eddie, are you fucking serious, man!?” Steve shouts, shaking Robin as he does, her head bobbling around slightly.

You and Gareth jump out of your seats, badgering Eddie for more context.

“I was just on the phone with someone at Scott’s office - I sent them that demo tape we made of Don’t Stop, they dug it - pulled some strings, got us a gig. He’s gonna attend and if he likes us, which he will of course, we could have a bigger offer in store. We could finally make an album!” Eddie’s beaming, his hands shaking with excitement.

The four of you rush to him, everyone hugging and cheering. Eddie picks you up and spins you around, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“This is it, baby. This could really be it for us,” he whispers to you, your foreheads pressed together.

You’re grateful Eddie’s holding onto you because your whole body feels like jello, your knees almost weak with excitement.

“Celebratory beer, anyone?” Steve asks, pulling a six-pack from the fridge.

You each take a bottle and cheers to ‘making an album’. Robin scurries off to ring Nancy, practically tripping over her feet on the way to the phone. You and the guys hover around the kitchen counter in content silence, just smiling at each other like idiots. This could really be the start of everything.

Robin enters the room once more after hanging up the phone, sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter and laughing to herself, spinning on the rotating seat.

“I just told Nance the news, oh my god, I hope I didn’t jinx our luck or something. This is like, totally a miracle and I usually don’t believe in miracles but maybe I should start,” Robin rambles nervously, all flailing hands as she talks. “Oh my god, wait! I’m gonna turn that into a line for my song…..” she trails off as she walks to the living room to grab her lyric book.

The rest of the group exchanges knowing glances at each other, because yeah, this certainly was a miracle - and you were going to take a chance on it.

May 24th, 1972. Indianapolis, Indiana.

It’s an unusually hot day for May in Indiana when the band pulls up to The Corner that Friday night, your skin prickling with sweat beneath your crochet top. You open the passenger door to Eddie’s vehicle, a burnt orange VW bus that he saved up for for years, the perfect size for carting around the whole band and your equipment. You step out onto the street, the hustle and bustle of the city whirring around you. Car horns honking, kids whizzing by on bicycles, music playing from somewhere you couldn’t detect. You were taking in the sights, looking up at the sign above the entrance to the club, where your band name sat in big black letters across the white board. Eddie sidled up beside you, snaking an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

“I can’t fucking believe it, Eds. That’s our band listed up there. I just… wow,” you shake your head, laughing giddily as you do.

“Believe it, baby. We’re movin’ up in the world,” he grins at you.

He presses a kiss to your lips before walking around to the back of the van, helping the others unload your gear. The group heads inside and you’re all instantly greeted by the owner of the establishment, a big burly man with a handlebar mustache.

“Ah! You must be The Rumors, am I right?” he asks, grinning widely at the bunch of you.

“Yep, that’s us, pleasure to meet you,” Steve stretches out a hand for him to shake, and the rest of you follow suit.

He introduces himself as Mitch before he shows you to the stage and tells you where the bathrooms are in case you need to spruce yourselves up before your set time later. He wishes you all luck and with that, he heads back to his post at the bar.

Time passes quickly as you work to set up the small stage, plugging in amps, tuning guitars, making sure you don’t trip over any cords in the process. Robin brought Nancy along with her so she could take photos of the gig tonight. Nancy had basically become the band’s personal photographer, taking photos at practices and every gig you’ve played so far, collecting tangible memories of your time together. It was sweet, really, and she loved having an excuse to follow Robin around. You and Eddie sing bits and pieces of a couple different songs to make sure the mics are sounding right, before the full band joins for a quick run-through of the five songs you’ll be playing this evening. It sounds great, you have to admit, but only time will tell if it’s good enough to get you an album deal.

Later that evening, you find yourself peeking out from behind the heavy velvet curtain, scanning the scattered tables on the floor. When your eyes land on none other than Scott Pierce, you feel yourself swallow a lump in your throat. He sits at a table alone, talking to a thin blonde woman and sipping on a beer. Robin comes up behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Is he out there?” She asks in a whisper, even though no one would be able to hear the two of you anyways.

“Yeah… yeah he is. Are you ready for this?” you glance over your shoulder at her, eyeing her nervously.

“Honestly, I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. But I’m also excited. Optimistic. This is our moment,” she smiles warmly at you and you can’t help but ease up. “All we gotta do is play our little hearts out like it doesn’t matter who’s watching.”

“You’re right. This is our moment. Let’s fucking do this,” you grin back, squeezing her in a tight hug.

The rest of the band is bustling in the small backstage area, Steve fixing his hair in a handheld mirror he brought, Gareth asking Eddie for his opinion on which shirt he should wear tonight (and Eddie getting incredibly frustrated because ‘it’s the same fucking shirt man, that one’s just a slightly lighter denim’). And he’s right, Gareth is holding up two almost identical denim button ups, one being a slightly lighter wash than the other - barely noticeable at a glance.

“Fifteen minutes till we’re on, guys, let’s get the show on the road,” you say as you head to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

You look at yourself in the mirror, pleased with your appearance. You wear an off-white long sleeve top that stops just above your belly button, exposing some skin but not too much, and the sleeves billow out at your wrists. An olive green suede skirt embroidered with flowers rests on your hips, and on your feet you wear short white boots with a chunky heel. Gold hoop earrings rest in your ears and a few different necklaces dangle low on your chest. You smudge some black eyeliner around your eyes and apply a generous layer of mascara to your lashes. Satisfied with the look, you ruffle your hair and put the makeup back in your bag. You take a deep breath in, grounding yourself, hyping yourself up for what you’re about to do.

You step out of the bathroom and run into Eddie, looking gorgeous in his dark denim bell bottoms and a red button up shirt, the top three buttons undone, exposing his pale chest and the gold chain he wears around his neck.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smiles at you, grabbing your waist and pulling you in to kiss you all over.

“Hi handsome, you ready to play?” you smile back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, sweets. Let’s rock n roll,” and with that, he’s pulling you backstage, eager and buzzing to start the show.

You hear Mitch speaking into the microphone on the stage, greeting everyone that’s gathered and thanking them for bringing business in. He keeps his speech short before announcing that there’d be a live band playing this evening for everyone.

“Ladies and gents, let’s give a warm welcome to The Rumors!” he steps off the stage, clapping with the rest of the club’s patrons.

And with that, you’re walking out onto the tiny stage, staring out at the startlingly large crowd packed in such a small space. Your eyes fall on Scott in the crowd once again, and this time his eyes meet yours. You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Everyone positions themselves accordingly on stage, and you all exchange glances, giving one another encouraging nods and smiles. Nancy sits close to the stage with her camera and gives you all a thumbs up. The lights over the floor dim, focusing all of the attention on the five twenty-something year olds that stand eager behind their instruments and microphones.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Robin’s starting the show off on the keys. The first song of the night is Don’t Stop. You all deemed that to be the appropriate first track seeing as that was the song Eddie sent over to Scott’s office. Eddie sings the first lines into the microphone, taking charge like a natural. He’s always been like this, always had a knack for commanding attention onto him, enthralling an entire room with his energy. It’s no different when he’s on stage - in fact it’s even more powerful. Robin and Eddie sing together on this song, you don’t have any vocals on this one, so you flounce around on stage with your tambourine, grooving to the beat and letting the music flow through you.

You don’t realize it, but you captivate the audience just as much as Eddie does, if not more. Strikingly beautiful up on the stage as you dance around, the lights making your jewelry sparkle. Eddie watches the way you move, loves seeing you in your element like this. He hopes he’ll get to see you up on stage every night, selling out stadiums together.

By the end of the first song you feel your nerves washing away, your body freeing up gradually and letting you just flow. Next song up is an upbeat, folky little number that Eddie wrote, titled Second Hand News. Once again, you aren’t supposed to sing on this one, but you end up walking over to Eddie’s mic and singing harmony on the chorus with him. If anyone thought you two were captivating on your own, your energy together is electric, so much power behind both of your voices combined. Scott notes this as he watches you from the audience, can’t tear his eyes away from you and Eddie. You have something special, and he can tell.

Finally, as the third song starts, it’s your time to sing. You’ve been working on a song, Rhiannon, and you don’t feel like it’s quite complete but the rough version works for now. It’s slower than the first two numbers, your voice crooning into the microphone as you sing of the fictional woman you’ve dreamed up in your head. You’re expressive while you sing, arms extending and moving freely, the fabric of your shirt sleeves draping down and flowing with every movement. The band does minimal backing vocals in the chorus, but otherwise this song is your moment. Eddie watches you absolutely awestruck, and he swears the crowd has collectively leaned forward, craning to hear every word that leaves your lips.

The final two songs are covers, and when your set is over the audience claps and cheers, a much more rowdy applause than you expected. Eddie thanks everyone for listening tonight and the five of you take a big bow, arm in arm, before exiting the stage. Backstage, everyone is chatting excitedly, congratulating each other on a job well done. Eddie’s standing behind you, long arms wrapped around you as you blush at Robin’s praise over your Rhiannon performance. The chatter stops when Mitch comes to the back, bringing Scott Pierce with him.

“Well, you guys had one hell of a show tonight,” Scott says, way friendlier than you expected him to be.

“Mr. Pierce, thank you so much for coming tonight. I’m Eddie, this is Y/N, Steve, Robin, and Gareth,” Eddie introduces each of you, and Scott greets you all warmly.

“It’s my pleasure, really. I’m very pleasantly surprised by the talent you guys have, that was some serious stuff up there,” he praises you, and you catch Steve’s eye as he grins at you from over Scott’s shoulder, mouthing ‘He likes us!’.

“That means so much to us, really,” you reply. “We love making music, it’s a dream to be here tonight.”

“I can tell you all have a lot of passion for this band. Eddie, you were the one who spoke with Linda at my office, right? What do you say we chit chat for a little, privately?” Eddie nods, motioning for Scott to lead the way to a table.

He turns around and gives you all a quick thumbs up, and the rest of you all jump around like hyper children. The time that Eddie’s gone feels like an eternity, and you’re waiting with baited breath to hear what Scott pitched to your boyfriend. What if it’s not the offer you want? You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t gotten your hopes up, dreaming of releasing an album and going on tour, playing sold out shows with your best friends every single night since Eddie told you all that he got you a gig. Not hearing what you want from Scott would feel like a punch to the gut.

“Relax darlin’, you look all tense over here,” Gareth places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a lopsided smile. “We’re gonna be fine, he really liked us.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before the curtain is ripped open and Eddie is running over to you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“Guess who’s making a fucking record!?” he hollers, setting you down and holding your hands in his.

“No way, Eddie! No way, are you serious?” you’re yelling back at him, Gareth, Steve, Robin, and now Nancy all gathering around you.

“We’re making an album! He fucking loved us, we got an offer to start recording at Sound City in California, a meeting with a big label. If all goes well, we’ll be touring, topping the fucking charts,” Eddie is beaming, talking a mile a minute.

The room fills with a chorus of excited cheering and shouting, the whole bunch of you having a group hug. You feel your eyes well up with happy tears as you look around at your friends, all smiles. Robin pulls Nancy into a kiss, Eddie ruffles Gareth’s hair, and you’re hugging Steve tight, probably staining his shirt with your watery eyes.

After you’ve all thanked Scott profusely and made loose plans to be in California within the next few weeks, the band packs up their gear and you all hit the road back to Hawkins. The energy in the van is different on the ride home, all of you singing loudly along to whatever comes on the radio, each of you dreaming up the wildest ideas of superstardom.

Later that night, back at home, you’re in bed with Eddie. Riding him slowly, holding a joint to your lips as you take a hit before passing it back to him. A window is open, night air warm with the promise of the approaching summer as it wafts in through the screen. Eddie hums blissfully beneath you, dark curls sprawled across the pillow under his head. You love intimate moments like this with Eddie, but as much as you want to focus on him right now, your mind wanders. He catches this, unsurprisingly. He can always sense a shift in your mood.

“What’s on that mind of yours, dove?” he asks, putting the joint in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“I dunno…. it’s silly,” you sigh, not meeting his gaze as those big brown eyes stare up at you.

“Baby, nothing is silly if it’s bothering you. Talk to me,” he coos, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You stop the slow rocking of your hips and tilt your cheek into his touch. “I’m just…. scared, Ed. I’m so happy we got this offer, it’s everything you and I have wanted since high school. But - I don’t know,” you stop yourself, chewing on your lip. Eddie rubs his thumb along your cheek, silently encouraging you to keep talking. “What if this changes everything, babe? What if fame is too much for us, what if it destroys us… comes between us….” you trail off, eyes searching his for an answer.

“My little dove, nothing is going to come between us,” Eddie says, voice soft but serious. “I love you more than words - you’re my world, baby, and I’m so excited to do all of these big things with you by my side,” his hands run up and down the sides of your body, relaxing you. “This is a big change for us, moving out to the West Coast, starting a new life. But I’ll be with you every step of the way. I love you so much.”

You giggle, leaning down to kiss him as he beckons you with a curling finger. His words always have a way of soothing you, his voice sweet like honey as it coaxes you out of your anxious headspace.

“I love you, too. I really can’t wait to have this life with you, Eddie.”

The next couple hours are spent with you two tangled up between the sheets, Eddie making passionate love to you, as you come undone again and again for him. You reassure yourself that while taking the next step into fame might be intimidating, you’ve got Eddie, and your best friends, and you’re gonna be fine.

June 18th, 1972. Los Angeles, California.

The band has arrived on the West Coast. The last couple weeks since your show at The Corner were full of packing your essential belongings, spending time with friends and family as much as possible before you left, writing snippets of songs together here and there so you have something to work off of when it’s time to start recording. The day your road trip to California started, you were misty-eyed saying goodbye to your loved ones. Eddie’s Uncle Wayne even shed a few tears himself, which never happens, and he laughed as Eddie teased him about it - “You getting soft on me, old man?”.

As the five of you drove out of Hawkins, you looked out the back window of the vehicle, saying a silent ‘thank you’ to the town that gave you your start - the town that brought your band together. A bittersweet feeling coursed through you as you cruised past the sign that read ‘Leaving Hawkins. Come Back Soon!’.

The trip to LA didn’t feel as long as it really was, Eddie and Steve taking turns driving the van as you, Robin, and Gareth played cards in the back to pass time, or sang obnoxiously to the radio. Some nights the rumble of the van’s tires on pavement lulled you to sleep as the drive continued on through the darkness. Sometimes you’d take the passenger seat and stay up late with Eddie as he drove under the glow of streetlights. Other nights were filled with the squeaky mattresses and peeling wallpaper of rundown motels that would house you when the task of driving overnight seemed impossible, the electric glow of vacancy signs flashing softly in through the window as you slept in Eddie’s arms, dreaming of world tours and screaming fans.

You documented bits of every single day in your journal, finding comfort in writing things down, your thoughts and feelings throughout the process of a drastic lifestyle change. Robin made sure to pick up various postcards from rest stops along the way to send to Nancy, who wouldn’t be joining you guys in Cali for another 2 weeks. Many quarters were used on payphone calls, each of you calling one person or another back home to let them know how things were going, what state you were in now, and so on. You made sure to take photos whenever you could on your disposable camera - catching Robin and Steve at a rest stop in Nevada, frozen in ridiculous poses as they stretched their sore limbs. There’s one of Gareth asleep in the back of the van, with a mustache drawn on his face in marker - courtesy of Eddie, of course. One taken by Steve of Eddie giving you a piggyback ride through a gas station parking lot, you laughing wildly. All in all, you had a blast on your road trip, as tiring as it was at times. You knew it was leading you to bigger and better things, and that made it more than worth it.

When you arrive to Los Angeles at long last, the evening glow washing over the landscape, Steve pulls the van into the gravelly driveway of the house you guys were renting for the time being, nestled in Laurel Canyon. There was plenty of unpacking to be done, and a meeting with Scott and some producers and label executives at Sound City tomorrow. But before any of it, you needed to sleep in a real bed. You claim a room to serve as yours and Eddie’s, and immediately flop yourself down on the soft mattress. Before long you feel Eddie climb in beside you as you drift to sleep, his long arm wrapping around your waist, and his soft breathing lulling you into peaceful slumber.

The following morning, the house is off the walls with energy. Everyone is excited and also nervous to get the show on the road, eager to start recording some songs. You all scramble to get ready, making yourselves presentable and each downing enough coffee to kill a horse. You have to practically drag Eddie out of the bathroom when it’s time to leave, insisting that yes his hair looked good and yes you liked his outfit and you had to go like right now or you were going to be late and make a horrible impression. Tires peel out of the driveway after loading everyone into the vehicle, and you watch out the windows as you drive down roads unfamiliar to you. You gaze up at the palm trees and white puffy clouds, smiling and waving at people on street corners who caught your eye. The whole city seemed to welcome you, opening up before you and inviting you in.

When you pull into the studio parking lot, you notice Scott waiting by the door, smiling warmly at you all. He shakes everyone’s hands in greeting as he welcomes you to LA, asking about your drive out and making pleasant conversation. He leads you in through the large doors and into the lobby, where a handful of presumably important people are waiting for you, dressed in suits and polished dress shoes. You suddenly feel out of place, standing there in your crochet halter top and a pair of denim shorts, flimsy ankle boots on your feet. No one seems to pay any mind, though, and you’re greeted brightly by all of the new faces. Scott introduces all of them, and wastes no time delving into the business aspect of it all. A couple hours go by answering questions about what your band is looking for, what direction you’d like to head in, going over potential contract info, so on and so forth.

By early afternoon you’re officially signed to a label, set to release an album and go on tour for it. It all felt so surreal, your head spinning as you’d signed your name to the contract, sloping cursive letters beneath finely printed details. The label representatives had asked if you had any songs that were ready to record as single material, wanting to get your band name out there as soon as possible. You’d all agreed that Don’t Stop made the most sense to release as the first single, given that it was really the song that got you here in the first place. It was upbeat and catchy, got stuck in your head, and it wasn’t too long but wasn’t too short. You’d agreed to record it that very day and, if you got a good take, you’d send it off to the label. In the meantime, Scott informed you he’d gotten you some gigs on the Sunset Strip and other nearby sites, playing the Whiskey a Go-Go, the Troubadour, the hot spots. He thought it would be a great way to spread the word about you guys before your first single hit the radio, to really get the anticipation brewing.

Things were a whirlwind after that.

Nancy joined you guys in California, dead set on working as the band’s official photographer, unwilling to let some pompous Hollywood asshole take her place. You began playing the gigs Scott had lined up for you as promised, gathering genuinely large crowds - at least large in your eyes - and by the end of July, Don’t Stop was released as The Rumors’ first single. Everywhere you went, you’d find yourself catching your song on the radio. Your boyfriend’s voice, playing over the speakers of local diners, grocery stores, blasting from the speakers of convertibles that drove down the city streets. It performed well, for a debut single from a previously never-heard-of band. People enjoyed it, they wanted more. The summer was filled with song writing, meetings with more and more important people who’d be working on your team, interviews with magazines and newspapers. And, notably, from the very beginning people took an interest in you and Eddie’s relationship. They thought it was sweet that you two were living out your shared dream, saw potential for the romance to bring good lyrical content.

The album was set to be completed and released by the end of the year, which meant many long nights writing and recording and re-recording. You had a decent track list planned out, an album of ten songs, perfect for a debut record. Don’t Stop would, of course, be on there. Robin’s You Make Loving Fun and your Rhiannon, which you’d been working hard to get polished to your liking. Second Hand News, and a new song Steve wrote for Robin to sing, called Say You Love Me. You and Eddie wrote a sweet duet titled Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around, an angsty love song that you knew would get crowds riled up as you sang it to each other. Monday Morning, I’m so Afraid, and Landslide would join the rest, the latter being written by you after having a sentimental late night talk with Robin, thinking about change and how scary growing up can be, much inspired by your recent lifestyle change, of course. Everywhere was the last song added to the track list, ultimately pushing some others off the table for the time being. You and Robin wrote Everywhere together, very much with your respective partners in mind, the lyric ‘I wanna be with you everywhere’ serving as an ode to your devotion to travel anywhere work takes you with Eddie, and Nancy’s willingness to follow Robin.

Eddie’s favorite nights were the ones where you and him stayed up practicing your songs, trying to record the perfect take even if it meant being in the studio till four in the morning. You’d share cheap wine and get high, roaming hands and stolen kisses on exposed skin eventually leading the two of you to get in the bus and go home, stumbling into bed and immersing yourselves in one another. One particular night found you bent over the arm of the couch in the studio, Eddie’s fingers sinking into the skin of your hips as he drove into you from behind. He was so eager to have you he couldn’t even wait until he got you home. He had you right where he wanted you, listening to your pretty noises as he watched his cock sink into you.

“Mmph, Eddie, what if someone comes in here?” you ask, voice staggered as your body lurched with every thrust he gave you.

“It’s late at night, baby, no one’s gonna walk in. Everyone else is probably out at the bars,” he reassures you, leaning down to press kisses up your spine. “Love having you like this, little dove, pussy’s so greedy for me.”

You babble incoherently for him as he works you to climax, pulling out of you after he’d filled you with his spend. You redressed your bottom half, adjusting your skirt as you sat down on the worn fabric of the couch, Eddie’s cum dripping down onto it.

“Christ, babe, I’m gonna get hard every time we walk in here now,” Eddie murmured, stealing a kiss from you as you tried to get back to work.

You ended up writing a song that night, inspiration striking you randomly. You titled it Leather and Lace, a love song very much inspired by the man that had you head over heels for him. You sang it to Eddie softly in the dim light of your bedroom after arriving back home that night, and he ended up adding another verse, making it into a duet. And for now, it stayed just between the two of you, a private declaration of the love between both of you.

When you guys weren’t in the studio or busy with other band tasks, you were indulging in the California night scene, going to bars and dancing at clubs. You’d often drink till the room was spinning and your skin was tingling, laughing with Eddie at every little thing, just to barely remember the evening’s events the following morning.

Come September, your label was pushing to release a second single, leaving it up to the five of you to decide which song you wanted to push through. You knew that everyone else wanted Rhiannon as the next single, but you were admittedly nervous to put the song out into the world as a stand-alone. That song is one you regarded as being your baby, and so you sit chewing on your fingernails as the rest of your band tries to persuade you that this is the song.

“Come on, Dove. It’s a great song, and you know it,” Gareth says, sitting across from you with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to try and level with you.

“The world needs to hear that beautiful voice of yours before this album comes out,” Robin chimes in. “What’re you afraid of, love?”

“I just- I love this song,” you say. “And I know that the whole ‘being famous’ thing is going to invite criticism, and negative opinions, and all of it. But I just don’t know if I’m ready to deal with hearing slander for this song if people don’t end up liking it,” you lean into Eddie who’s sat beside you, his big hand rubbing your arm reassuringly.

“They’re gonna love it, baby, because you’re phenomenal in everything you do,” he encourages. “You know I’ve been saying since the day you wrote it that I just have a feeling this song will be pivotal for us,” and the rest of the group nods in agreement.

You ponder this, chewing your lip and picking at the frayed edges of your denim shorts.

“Fine. Rhiannon it is.”

It turns out that Eddie was right, and Rhiannon performed insanely well, coming out at #10 on the charts. People at your gigs on The Strip had heard this song performed, and had clearly been eagerly awaiting its hopeful release. Naturally, Eddie wouldn’t let you live it down. You’re sitting in the kitchen a few days after the song’s release, eating breakfast when Eddie comes barreling in. He immediately turns on the radio with clumsy fingers as he pops a piece of bread into the toaster. Sure enough, Rhiannon was playing on the station, and Eddie starts singing along.

“Gee, I wonder who sings this song?” he asks around a mouthful of banana.

You look over at him and roll your eyes, chuckling at how he’s dancing across the floor.

“Man, I sure would love to be the guy who gets to sleep next to her every night, she’s got the voice of an angel,” he swoons dramatically, making you laugh even further when he accidentally drops his banana.

“Whoops,” he shrugs, taking his toast out of the toaster and applying an obscene amount of chunky peanut butter on it, before sitting across from you at the table.

He grabs your hand as the song finishes, squeezing it as if to say ‘I’m so proud of you’. You couldn’t help but smile. He’s always been your number one supporter, it’s no surprise he’s acting this way now.

The song was big then and it only got bigger, people couldn’t get enough. In the coming weeks it was played even more frequently and in even more places than Don’t Stop had been. People started recognizing the band out in public, specifically you and Eddie, and you got to sign your first autographs to some giddy girls who stopped you outside of a record shop.

To say the months after that were a blur is an understatement, the five of you being whipped into newfound fame faster than you could comprehend. Your album, simply titled with your band name, was released in November. It was performing extremely well, Rhiannon really being the catalyst that made people excited to hear more from you. Talks of tour were near constant, deciding on dates, cities, the setlist. It was set to begin in March, rehearsals set to start in January. Ultimately, you all decided it made the most sense to play the entire album on tour, given that it was only ten songs. You’d throw in a few covers for good measure, ones that really showcased the flare you guys could bring to music.

The world was loving The Rumors, and you guys were absolutely enjoying the fame. It seemed as though everywhere you went now, somebody wanted your autograph, or simply came up to say they love the record. The five of you adjusted to your new lives slowly yet rather confidently, letting your hard work be praised by the masses. It felt good to finally be more than a band playing bars with a crowd of ten drunk patrons, and you’d tell that to any interviewer who would listen. As exciting as it all was, you were looking forward to having a little bit of a break before the chaos of tour and rehearsals would begin. Scott had told you guys to take a couple of weeks off for the holidays, insisting that you all absolutely deserved to relax. The band would pick back up in the new year, but for now, you could spend some time laying low.

December 20th, 1972. Hawkins, Indiana.

You and Eddie had flown back home to Hawkins to celebrate Christmas. You were eager to snuggle into the coziness of home, enjoy the snow and the colorful lights and the nostalgia of the season. Steve and Gareth had stayed in California, Steve not really having a reason to come home what with his parents always being gone, and Gareth having invited his family out to the West Coast for a warm and sunny holiday. Robin and Nancy were coming back to Hawkins as well, but a couple days after your and Eddie’s arrival. You step out of the rental car Eddie had snagged for your time at home, the cold chill of the air whipping your face. You wrap your coat tighter around your frame, realizing just how accustomed you’d grown to the warm and sunny California weather. Eddie walks around to the back of the car, his thick jacket lined with Sherpa keeping him insulated as he grabs your suitcases from the trunk. His nose is red from the chill of the air as he quickly walks the suitcases up to the front door of your family home, where your parents and Wayne should be waiting on your arrival. The front door opens before you can even grab the doorknob, your dad welcoming you into the warmth of your home.

“There’s our favorite rockstars!” he jokes, making you roll your eyes as you hug him in greeting.

Your mom rushes to the door, pulling you into a hug and then Eddie after the suitcases are handed off to your dad. Wayne gives you one of his signature tight hugs and a kiss on the side of your head, just like he always used to, before pulling Eddie into a bear hug that seems to last minutes. You head up to your old room once the greetings are over, and you find yourself overwhelmed with nostalgia. You hadn’t even been in California a year, and yet coming home felt like something you’d hadn’t done in decades. You squeeze the teddy bear that sits on your bed, your childhood friend that you’d ultimately decided to leave here during the move. You inhale the scent of home within the bear, your body feeling warm and you can’t help but smile.

“You okay, Dove?” Eddie asks, stepping into your room and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Yeah. Just happy to be home,” you smile, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He gives you an understanding smile back. It’s good to be home.

Not much has changed in the sleepy town of Hawkins, other than the fact that posters of your band are plastered just about everywhere. Your town has always had your back, so it’s no surprise they’re proudly showing off and saying ‘Hey, look! We’re that town where The Rumors are from!’. You even run into some girls from high school, begging for autographs from you and Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even give them the time of day before he’s pulling you away just as you’d uncapped your marker, mumbling something about ‘they hated me in high school, what do they deserve an autograph for?’.

The holidays come and go quite quickly, Christmas being spent wrapped in Eddie’s arms in cozy matching sweaters, singing carols for family while Eddie played his acoustic. The new year rolled in with Eddie pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, the taste of sweet wine on his tongue, and whispered promises of making this year a fantastic one. Being back at home made you feel comfortably small again, a stark contrast to the ever growing spotlight that’s been placed on you in California. Of course, you’re over the moon to be getting such success, but being surrounded with family in your childhood home brings you a different kind of peace. You’re inevitably teary when it comes time for you and Eddie to fly back to LA, hugging your parents and Wayne goodbye, sniffling into a tissue. You hold Eddie’s hand almost the entire flight back, letting him reassure you in the way his thumb rubs over your hand. Getting back to Cali meant you’d be hitting the ground running, a short couple of months until tour was set to start. If only you’d known that this would be the calm before the storm.

taglist: @hargrovesswifee @lofaewrites @tiannamortis @munson-blurbs @manda-panda-monium

[yovrnewromantic]

ex husband! eddie who still loves you. who still brings you and the kids donuts every sunday. who gives you additional child support for you “to get something nice for yourself.” who sends postcards from his tours, saying he wished you were there. who still wrote songs about you, even including your name so you can’t even pretend to be oblivious. eddie ,who asks the kids to talk about him a little more, just to get on your nerves. who looks like a kicked puppy whenever you flip him off after dropping off the kids at his house. who “kidnaps” your kids randomly in the week, charging kisses as ransom. who brings you flowers when he drops the kids off. ex husband! eddie who’s working on not being your ex.

[meet-me-backstage]

🜸

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 🎸 Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 🎸 You play at the Hideout with your band, Stake For My Valentine, every night - you’re considered the metal queen of the bar and your band are the rulers of the roost, famously loved by the Hideout’s local drunks. However, when a band named Corroded Coffin land their first gig there the sparse crowd warm quickly to the unique and awkward charm of the leading metal head, Eddie Munson.

However, you don’t warm to him so easily - in fact, you don’t warm to him at all. Eddie, on the other hand, worships the ground you walk on and doesn’t hesitate to make it known and leads to a cold rejection from you.

Band rivalry occurs - you vs. Eddie, Stake For My Valentine vs Corroded Coffin.

You hate each other… but one night everything changes when a plan is created and executed by yours and Eddie’s bandmates with the intention of bring you two together and harmony between your bands.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊-𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒍𝒐𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 🎸 bad language, angst, mention and consumption of drugs, mention and consumption of alcohol, some perv!eddie, blood, mention of blood, sexual innuendos, Eddie wearing eyeliner bcuz damn😍, some typical bar fight drunkard violence and SMUT so you must be 18+ to read this mini series‼️

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 🎸 10.4K words 🫢

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 🎸 bad language, mention of and consumption of alcohol, mention of drugs, mention of smut, Eddie being a perv teehee and finally some smut between Eddie and reader guys (they kinda give exhibitionist vibes in this part) 👀🤭🤯

𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 - 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠!

𝐋𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝! <𝟑

⇜ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐲 • 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 • 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓

Daggers, pins, needles - the painful sensation of their sharp, pointed edges is exactly what you feel right now.

Small stabbing and repeated pokes is what wakes you up from your deep and dreamless slumber.

Your nose twitches at an unfamiliar smell. The smell of your favorite rose scented perfume mixed with the polish that you use to clean your electric guitar is absent from your nostrils. What you could smell was an overwhelming odour of sweat and dirty laundry. Your eyes flicker open and for a few seconds your vision is blurry, blinded by the light shining through a window.

Rocket curtains?

This isn’t my room.

Where am I?

What happened last night?

Your eyes continue to wander the room. Drum sticks and manuscript papers are scattered around and there is a ridiculous amount of drum kit paraphernalia on the walls, on top of the closet, on a desk. Piles of clothes were spread across the black carpeted floor… that explains the smell.

‘Löded Diper’ is messily written in black paint on a mirror that is hung up on the wall opposite the bed you’re laying in. You also recognise the rocket patterned wallpaper and realise that there is only one person that this room could belong to.

You groan at the realisation that you’re in the armpit that is Rodrick’s bedroom… again.

A loud snore takes you aback and you abruptly turn to face the noise.

Rodrick. His mouth is hung open, bottom lip drooping down to the slide closest to his pillow and his head is leaning backwards slightly, emphasising his Adam’s apple.

You quickly lift up the duvet and let out a dramatic, relieved sigh because - whew, thank god I’m not naked. But you’re only wearing an oversized black shirt that you do not recognise and definitely does not belong to you, and your underwear. The shirt has ‘Löded Diper’ roughly written on it, Rodrick’s band name, with what looks like white chalk that Rodrick probably took from the dart scoreboard beside the bar downstairs.

“Whuh a-re - you doooing?” You hear Rodrick mumble into his pillow, he yawns immediately after and opens his eyes once before scrunching them shut again because he hasn’t quite adjusted to the light just yet.

“What am I wearing?” You ask bluntly, pushing the duvet off of your top half completely.

Rodrick’s eyes blink open, still strained, they wander down your face, to your neck and then to your chest, “The hottest shirt in Hawkins,” A smug smile tugs at his lips while he speaks in a morning grumble.

You shoot him a piercing glare.

“What?” He mumbles, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face back into his pillow.

“I think I’d remember if I was wearing this piece of crap last night,” you state with sarcasm, knowing that your criticism of his handmade band merchandise would wake him up in an instant.

He shoots you a playful glare now, though it is half as effective as yours because one of his eyes is hidden into his pillow, “Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this mornin-.”

“Afternoon,” you cross your arms, nodding at the alarm clock on his bedside table.

His slants his neck upwards, revealing his other eye and some small stains on his pillow from the smudged remnants of his eyeliner. He takes a sheepish glance at the same alarm clock, “Afternoon,” he sighs, rubbing his eyes.

You cross your arms, raising your brows while looking down on him, “How did I get here? How did this-,” you pinch some of the fabric of the shirt between your fingers, “get on me? And where are my clothes?”

Rodrick audaciously responds with a ballsy and tired grin. He takes another look at his shirt that you donned, “I can’t believe you’ve reached your age and don’t know how a shirt works, Vamp. ‘S pretty easy, you lift your arms and put them through the two holes on the side, then you put your head through the bigger hol-.”

“Say one more word, Rodrick - I double fuckin’ dare you,” you state sassily, leaning yourself downward and over his top half, your face is aligned with his.

His eyes gleam up at you, “So you don’t want to know what happened last night?” He bites his lips together.

You grunt, rolling your eyes at his question, “I do, but I want a clear explanation - cut the fuckin’ riddles and avoiding my questions with lousy comebacks. What - happened - after - my - gig?”

“You really wanna know?” He asks, amused, but with an undertone of wariness that makes you even more intrigued… and your brows to sweat because- what the hell did I do?

You gulp, “Y-yes.”

Rodrick brings a hand up to his forehead, pinching his skin between his fingers while in deep thought. He bites his lips together to hold in a laugh before taking a deep breath and revealing his tired face to you, “Let’s just say that it was - bad for you, good for the Battle of The Bands competition.” You glare at him. “Okay, okay. You kinda jumped off of the stage after your gig, I got you a couple‘a drinks and you spent the entire evening telling everyone how you ‘need’ Eddie Munson.”

You look at him questioningly, “What?”

Rodrick chuckles nervously. You tilt your head to the side in response to him. “You got on the bar and declared your title of ‘Queen Vamp of the Hideout’ to everyone. Everything was ‘bullshit’, ‘bullshit’, ‘bullshit’. Corroded Coffin - ‘bullshit’, Eddie Munson - ‘bullshit’. You called your fans assholes if they even think about going to Corroded Coffin’s gig tonight and then a minute later you just broke down - ‘I need Eddie Munson’ - ‘I need him’!” Rodrick mimics your voice.

You grind your teeth together while also furrowing you’re brows, desperately trying to recall any of what Rodrick had just told you, but all you could remember was swinging your Pink Special over your shoulder, hugging a few of your fans, stumbling towards the booth that Rodrick was sat in and then… blank.

“I don’t remember any of that.” He raises his brows at you while you ramble passionately. He has an amused expression on his face that makes you stop and question your entire existence. You bring your hands to your face and try to cover every one of your features while you writhe with embarrassment. There’s a few moments of silence before you bring your fingers down, uncovering your eyes, “What happened after that?”

Rodrick continues to stare at you with a questioning look in his dark under-circled eyes, “Er - well - they looked pretty shocked - and then they sorta-,” he scratches his forehead, “laughed.”

Your face falls with astonishment, “They - laughed - at me?” You can’t believe it. To hear that the dedicated followers of your music, people that had been so loyal to you since the very first step you took on the stage downstairs, had betrayed you - it hurt like stabs to the back.

“Pfft, not like that, Vamp - it’s just - I think they were shocked because you’re always so cool around them, y’know?” He reasons with you in an unusually high pitched voice, “If anything I think they appreciated seeing you let your guard down for once.”

You shake your head with a sigh, bringing a hand to your forehead and rubbing at your skin with force, “This is all your fault - now Corroded Coffin really are just gonna get the Halloween gig without any scheme or competition because I called all my fans assholes!”

“Er - I’m not the one that went batshit last night, Vamp - that was all you.”

Your glare at Rodrick gets harder and harsher, “Oh yeah? How much drink did you give me?”

“I can’t remember - quite a lot, but you seemed sorta pissed off about something so I thought that it might… help.”

“Help? Help me what? Make a damn fool of myself?” You scoff, chuckling sarcastically.

“No, no - I thought it might - I dunno - calm you down or - unleash - you looked so tense after the gig - so I let you drink? So what? We smoke weed at every soundcheck so what’s the big deal?”

“You think shoving a swimming pool’s worth of vodka down my throat until I black out is the answer to all my problems, huh?” You spit with attitude while he stares back at you with big eyes because he’d never seen you this angry. Yes, he’d pissed you off before, but you often brushed him off or sent him a playful glare because nothing he’d done previously had damaged your reputation or caused you to lose control like he had let happen last night.

“You wouldn’t even talk to me,” he mutters lowly with frustration clear in his voice.

“Boo-fuckin’-hoo, Rodrick - what has that got anything to do with you?”

Rodrick shrugs, seemingly unable to speak for himself or his lack of action last night to save you from public humiliation. “It worked, didn’t it?” he mutters under his breath, shrugging after and pursing his lips as if you meant nothing to him.

Your mouth falls open at his words, the selfishness of them, “So you actually think that - what? Just because you’re fucking me you have a free pass to all my thoughts and feelings? You have an automatic right to see everything going on in my head? I’m fine, Rodrick - see? You could’ve just asked.”

“You clearly weren’t fine last night, Vamp,” Rodrick states with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but his stare on you gets more intense with each word.

You stare back at him, matching his intensity, “Welllllll, if you were so worried about me, what exactly did you do to stop any of this from happening?”

A few seconds of silence pass while you both glare at each other harshly, “I figured that if anyone should be helping you, it should be your other boyfriend, Eddie - y’know, since you need him so much.”

You struggle to hold in the groan that was aching to leave your mouth. Instead, you bring your hands up to your face, your fingers pressing just slightly into your eyes to relieve the urge to punch him, “You’re not my boyfriend, Rodrick - and Eddie sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend either,” your hands drop down to your lap with a pillowy thud, “I hate him.”

“That’s not what you were saying last night,” Rodrick responds with doubt and sarcasm towards you.

You roll your eyes while letting out a frustrated exhale before opening your mouth to defend yourself, but the sound of a cymbal crashing downstairs interrupts you.

The sound is close to deafening and lasts for five seconds before you are met with silence, which you take as an opportunity to try getting your words, but again, you are silenced by a loud drum roll.

“What’s going on?!” You do your best to shout over the noise.

Rodrick shrugs before shouting lazily, “I dunno - practicing probably!”

You grunt loudly before abruptly jumping off of the bed. You spot your clothes from last night laid messily on a random chair opposite the bed and grab them, followed by leaving Rodrick’s room with heavy stomping sounds each time your bare feet collide with the floor.

“Where are you going, V? We need to talk!” Rodrick calls after you, desperation clear in his voice.

“Later!” You shout back nonchalantly before soldiering on through your mission to put a stop to Corroded Coffin’s band practice, completely disregarding the fact that the shirt you’re wearing barely covers your underwear.

You mutter angrily under your breath as you sprint down the stairs, missing a few steps on your way which makes you slam into the wall a few times, but the frustration completely overrides the pain that you feel, especially after learning about what had apparently happened last night.

Maybe I do need the competition… but I certainly never intended to tell anybody, let alone an entire bar of people who worship me and my music, people who I have to keep up a reputation for… I’m supposed to be their queen of metal and I let them all down last night, and it all started when Eddie Munson and his band of nobodies decided to wander into the Hideout on a random, cold Friday night.

I hate him.

I hate him.

I hate hi-

Eddie’s voice is clear once you reach the door leading to the bar at the bottom of the staircase so you hastily decide to hide behind it and listen.

“Let’s start from the chorus,” Gareth suggests.

“Sure thing!” Eddie chirps eagerly in response, his enthusiasm briefly reminding you of when you first formed Stake For My Valentine.

You peek between the door and doorframe, seeing Eddie excitedly fiddling with some wires and his guitar. His tongue is tensed and gently rested on his bottom lip and his eyes are extremely focused, zeroed in on his microphone - he looks kinda sweet, you think, but that thought is quickly shaken away with a small shake of your head.

“You ready, Eddie?” Jeff asks.

“Yup, ready - ready,” Eddie nods for a few seconds before throwing his head forward and strumming an angelic sounding E major chord, which you assume is a signal for Gareth because he starts to count by hitting his drum sticks together before hitting a rhythm on the snare and crashing both sticks onto the cymbals. Eddie throws his head back up, making his long hair flow elegantly in the air and his bangs to fall over his forehead and eyes messily, “I fuckin’ hate that bitch!”

Your face falls and your jaw drops as he sings into the microphone, holding it gently between both his hands.

“Cause she takes and she takes - she won’t give in - and they love and they love but - I - I-,” the lyrics are sung by Eddie in a sort of slurred and smooth way, rolling off of his tongue almost seductively… almost. He shakes his head as he plucks the wrong string, “This is so - stupid - I can’t do it. She’ll kill me if she hears this tonight, can we just scratch it from the setlist completely?”

What makes him so sure that I’ll be at his gig tonight?

Gareth let’s his hands fall with the drumsticks still grasping them in defeat, the tips of the sticks hit the snare and ride cymbal on their way down, “‘He’s just a loser with a guitar’… do you really think that that’s not about you?”

Eddie shakes his head, his face scrunching up in confusion, “I know, I know it is-,” he turns himself around to face away from you to be face to face with the rest of his band.

“And she didn’t give a shit that you heard her lyrics about you,” Gareth argues.

Eddie lifts the hand that had been wrapped around the neck of his guitar and raises his pointy finger by his face, “But it was Rodrick who read them out for everyone to hear, not Vamp.”

“So what?” Gareth asks with furrowed brows and a shrug of his shoulders.

Eddie mirrors Gareth’s actions by shrugging his shoulders too, “I dunno, man-.”

Gareth rolls his eyes at the conflict that Eddie was fighting in his head about whether or not to add the song he’d written about you to Corroded Coffin’s setlist to play in front of an entire audience to hear, “Oh c’mon, Eddie - you have to agree that she needs to be taken down a peg or twenty-five… she walks all over you like you’re a dirty rug or somethin’ and you’ve gotta do something about it.”

You squint your eyes at Gareth through the crack that you’ve been peeking through and quietly scoff at his harsh words.

Eddie stays silent, he’s clearly still fighting himself, judging by his fidgeting, but you still can’t see his face.

“I say we take a vote,” Gareth suggests, now looking between Jeff and Travis, who look just as bewildered as you imagine Eddie is looking right now. They eventually nod, apart from Eddie, who stays frozen on the spot, “Okay, hands up for Bitch in Boots and Fishnets to not be played at the show tonight,” Gareth speaks, keeping his hands firmly glued to his lap.

Eddie thrusts his arm up in the air enthusiastically, but the rest of his body is slouched in defeat.

Jeff and Travis exchange nervous looks at each other, like they are debating through eye contact, or urging the other to make the first move.

Jeff slowly raises his hand, only for Gareth to shoot him a glare, “Sorry, G. I’m all for knocking Vamp down a peg, but this just feels a little too harsh.”

Gareth avoids eye contact with Jeff, “Whatever, dude.”

“Sorry,” Jeff apologises again in a mumble, lowering his head for a moment of thought before lifting it again, “I just have a feeling that it’ll cause more harm than good when I only want for all members of Corroded Coffin and Stake For My Valentine to get along - surely there’s another way to get Vamp on board with us without adding fuel to the fire.”

Eddie slides his hand behind his neck, scratching it, which causes his head to turn so that you can momentarily see his face. He looks entirely skeptical and so does Gareth, who chooses to completely ignore Jeff’s advice.

“We’ve tried to be nice - Eddie has tried to be nice… I think it’s time to give her a taste of her own medicine - see how she likes being messed with… it’ll also give us an advantage in this Battle of The Bands thing,” Gareth states matter of factly with a hint of excitement in his voice before sighing, then nodding, “Those in favor of playing Bitch in Boots and Fishnets tonight, raise a hand,” Gareth has his arm raised while he speaks, and, like a puppy, Travis follows and lifts his arm too. Gareth then looks between Jeff and Eddie, hoping that they’d changed their minds, only for them to keep their hands at their sides.

Eddie looks entirely relieved, his body visibly relaxes. “I guess we’re even then, which is probably for the best because the song isn’t even finished yet and - I - I don’t think I can do it… especially if Vamp is here tonight,” he rambles, avoiding eye contact with all of his band-mates and staring down at his guitar instead.

A dumbfounded Gareth blinks at Eddie, “Bullshit. We all saw your lyric book this morning - we only saw the title but you always fold the pages of songs that are finished.”

Eddie brings a hand to his face, caressing his cheekbones with his thumb and index finger, “I know I know I know - Jesus H. Christ - I was writing all night and I must’ve just mistakenly left it out… and yeah - I was - angry - yesterday-.”

“You don’t say,” Gareth interjects.

“I was angry-,” Eddie repeats, looking at Gareth over his hand that stretched across his face above his nose, “after finding out that Vamp had written shitty things about me, and maybe I started writing it because I wanted to get back at her for that and for practically fucking Rodrick in my face, but then I - I started-bringing-other-sorta-resurfaced-feelings-into-it-that-I-don’t-want-her-knowing-about, m’kay?” Eddie stares intensely between the three boys stood with him, he spoke the words so fast that they practically had no gap between them and you could hardly pick up on what he had said.

Whatever Eddie had said, Jeff, Gareth and Travis’ mouths had fallen agape in response.

“You still- after the way that she’s treated you in the last week?” Gareth asks in disbelief with a hushed voice so that all you can hear are mumbles.

Eddie lifts his shoulders up, making his neck completely disappear, “I know I shouldn’t, but I guess crushes as big as the one I had on her don’t just go away - even after she calls you a loser,” he mutters loud enough for his friends to hear, but not you.

All of his friends are silent around Eddie, digesting more incoherent words from where you are hidden.

Jeff, Gareth and Travis exchange looks between each other, it’s hard to tell what they are thinking, but it visibly puts Eddie on edge, because he shakes his head and nervous laughter leaves his lips.

Your hand starts to ache from holding your body weight up against the door, your eyes are hurting from having to squint so hard to catch a glimpse of the band on the other side of the door and, quite frankly, you are getting bored of not being able to hear what they are talking about… you can only guess that they are talking about Rodrick because they don’t know that you’re only a few metres away, let alone that you’re in the building.

“We’re not, I repeat, we’re not playing my song tonight and nothing - nothing you do or say will change my mind about it,” Eddie, very seriously declares, his voice returning to the volume it had been before he started whispering, enabling you to hear.

You take a deep breath, straighten your back and grip onto the door handle before putting on your best smirk.

The latch of the door clicks as you press downward onto the handle and swiftly open the creaky door, immediately gaining the attention of all four of the Corroded Coffin boys. You fight the urge not to hysterically laugh because all of their faces are priceless at your very sudden, very unexpected reveal.

You walk in, still smugly smirking with your hand raised and your eyes honed in on Eddie, whose jaw has dropped so much that, if he wasn’t careful, could catch a bunch of flies. His chocolaty brown eyes are almost as wide as his mouth is open and, just like his entire body that is facing you now, they are completely focused on you.

You’re so focused on him that you notice the way his pupils dilate when he breaks eye contact and trail down to your red panties that peek a little from underneath Rodrick’s shirt while you walk towards him. Eddie’s gaze is so intense, almost predatory, that you can’t help but feel vulnerable under it, especially as his eyes trail further down to your bare thighs - you’d never been so scrutinised before, it causes goosebumps to form all over you and you feel your breath catch in your throat.

Not even Rodrick has looked at you the way Eddie is looking at you now - and Rodrick has seen you naked… but something tells you that you wouldn’t have been as affected anyway if it had been Rodrick stood in Eddie’s place right now.

It takes you a few moments to regain your composure, though your legs still feel like jelly because he continues to ravenously gaze at you like you’re his last meal.

It’s not until you clear your throat that he seems to snap out of the trance he’s under, his eyes travel back up your body and land on the ‘Löded Diper’ logo written across your chest - you notice him exhale through his nose at the sight of it.

The excitement in his eyes leaves in the moment that he realises exactly where you’d been the entire night… and doing god knows what with Rodrick. He pictures all of the positions that he could only dream of having you in and feels his hands start to get so clammy with sweat that he wipes his palms aggressively on the thighs of his black ripped jeans.

You keep your hand raised as you come to a stop about a metre away from the raised platform that all four of the Corroded Coffin boys are stood on. The smug smirk is still evident on your lips, “Doesn’t my vote count? Y’know, since the song is about me.”

Eddie freezes, his hands glued to his thighs. The only part of him that moves are his eyes, which look down at you through his long and dark lashes, “N-no?” He stutters questioningly, it’s as if he can’t believe that you’re here, like you’re a ghost or a figment of his imagination. He suddenly stands up straight, wipes his forehead with his wrist and undoes his blue denim jacket, which you can tell has seen better days, and chucks it to the side.

You drag your eyes away from his, looking him up and down before catching a glimpse of the ‘Black Sabbath’ t-shirt he had been hiding under the jacket.

Fine - maybe he really was the boy that approached me at the lockers back in 7th grade… just with way more hair and a lot taller. Maybe he was being nice that day and maybe he was really just looking for a friend and happened to see the magazine cut out of Black Sabbath in my locker… but so what? It doesn’t mean that I have an obligation to like him now.

We’ve changed.

If we couldn’t see eye to eye then, then we most definitely cannot see eye to eye now… right? Right. I mean, for the love of Ozzy Osbourne, we’ve written songs about how much we hate each other… we can’t undo that… but I might as well hear it and maybe… just maybe - really listen to his words… perhaps I could - I dunno - take on board a few of ‘em… if he makes any good points that is.

You pout, blinking up at him, trying to ignore the fact that he’s towering over you by a foot because of the platform he’s stood on and you are face to face with his crotch. You notice the slight tent in his jeans by the fly - lucky me, you think sarcastically, but you can’t help but look for a second longer than you should because - hey, it’s right there. “That’s such a shame, Munson - I was so hoping to hear it tonight,” the hand that you had raised drops with a thud to your side and you stare up into his eyes again.

Eddie squints his very round eyes at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion while the other boys also exchange perplexed looks behind him… they all can’t seem to tell if you are being nice, or whether you’re tricking them into thinking you are.

“R-really?” Eddie stutters doubtfully, though there is still hope evident in his voice.

A small, genuine giggle leaves your lips, “Really.”

“R-right.” Eddie’s brows furrow while he continues to look at you with a mix of horror and confusion, “How long were you listening in on us exactly?”

“Oh - just the entire time,” you lie, well - half lie, but you aren’t going to tell him that you missed a tiny snippet of their discussion because of their whispering.

A staring contest between you and Eddie commences after that, you take a small step closer to him so that you’re just a foot away from him and he exhales shakily at your close proximity. You win very quickly because he shakes his head, scrunching up his nose and squinting his eyes shut, “I know what you’re doing.”

“What?” You ask, confused. Eddie continues to scrutinise you with his eyes, you tilt your head and furrow your brows at him, “What exactly do you think I’m doing?”

“I dunno, Vamp - but I have no doubt that you’ve probably got a little trick up your sleeve to try and humiliate me tonight - and I’m not gonna fall for it only to be shot down by you again.” Eddie’s voice exudes sarcasm and frustration and he has a strained smile on his lips while he speaks, his arms flail about everywhere until he stops suddenly and grips tightly onto his guitar with both his hands.

You start to feel warm with bubbling anger from being so confused, you try to mask it with self-defence, “That’s not true, I really want to hear what you have to say-.”

“Don’t make me laugh,” Eddie snorts, as do the boys behind him.

You place both your hands on your hips, your clothes still tucked between your left arm and your side, “Is it really that hard to believe?”

Eddie gulps, sheepishly looking you up and down before sternly and deeply staring into your eyes, “Yeah, it is actually.”

Your features harden just as his seem to soften when he realises how harsh he’d just sounded.

I can’t believe I even tried to give him a chance to impress me. “Oh yeah?” you retort with sarcasm.

Eddie hums while giving you one nod of his head.

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins now in response to his nonchalance towards you - he cares so little that I can’t even get one word out of him? “Well in that case…” you drop your skirt and t-shirt that you had been wearing last night, then you pick up your skirt and step into it one leg at a time before shimmying it all the way up your legs, letting out small grunts as you pull the garment over your hips, “Fuck your gig-,” you lift Rodrick’s shirt up and over your head, revealing your black lace bra underneath, chucking it onto the floor beside you, “fuck your song-,” your lips tug up into a side smirk at Eddie, who is not so discreetly staring at your bra-clad breasts with wide eyes. You pick up your shirt, very quickly realising that you had been wearing your favorite Ozzy Osbourne shirt last night, and close your eyes as you swiftly pull it over your face, “and fuck - you.” Eddie is still looking at you with blown out, lusting eyes even when your shirt is completely covering you - you ignore the warmth that you feel in the pit of your stomach, but you try to ignore it by chuckling it away… and insulting him on your way out of the Hideout… “Perv!”

“Get Rodrick down here - his vote counts!” You hear Gareth’s voice a few seconds after your exit before you proceed to walk home, “What? You can play it now if she’s not coming!”

⎈ 🎸⎈

You spend the rest of the day with conflicting thoughts about whether you should show your face at Corroded Coffin’s gig tonight.

One moment you’re laying on your back in your bed, muttering ‘fuck ‘em - fuck it - why should I go? I can’t go - I can’t face that asshole again’ to yourself, then a minute later you’ve rolled onto your stomach and are telling yourself that you ‘have to go - I have to be there just in case they do play his goddamn song - I can’t miss it - I’m not scared of Eddie Munson - I’m going.’

Then suddenly you find yourself stood outside of the Hideout in your trusty fishnets and boots at 11:55pm, staring at the building in anticipation. It’s the first time your heart is beating so fast because you have no idea what is to come, usually every time you walk into the bar it’s the same, like deja vu, your fans running to greet you, Rodrick shamelessly flirting with you, your band sat in your designated booth already with a drink in hand, the local man sitting at the bar drinking away after a long day at work and maybe even a bar fight between two men who’d had one drink too many.

You try to ignore the voice in your head telling you to ‘turn back and go home… it’s not too late to get outta this… what am I even doing here? They’re probably on their last song anyway’ You give in, turning around and doing exactly what your thoughts tell you to, you walk away.

“How about we end tonight’s gig with a new one?” You hear muffled cheers and ‘hell yeahs’ in response.

“How many times do I have to love you, baby? Touch the ground when you’re feeling down-,” you stop walking at the sound of Eddie’s muffled voice from inside the bar.

You recognise the tune of the first verse to be the first part of the supposed revenge song that Eddie had written for you… but didn’t he just sing - love - in what is supposed to be a hate song about me? You’re too curious to walk away any further. Instead, you resume your way towards the door leading into the Hideout.

“You walk around like you own this town” - huh, he’s not entirely wrong about that.

“Vamp, is that you?” You hear a familiar voice behind you, making you jump before looking over your shoulder, “What are you doing lurking out here in the rain?”

Alyssa…

You hadn’t even noticed the rain until she mentioned it, “Oh nothin’, just hangin’ around,” you say overly casually with a shrug of your shoulders, which Alyssa responds with an amused look and a giggle, “What?”

Alyssa looks at you with a playful, knowing look, “You’re here to see Rodrick, amiriiiggght?”

So she didn’t see your drunk commotion last night - she must’ve left early with Elektra.

You decide to play dumb because you don’t want her knowing that you’re actually here for Eddie. Your face contorts into one of over-the-top confusion, “What? Noooooo,” you giggle shyly.

“C’monnnn, Vamp - don’t think we didn’t see you cosying up with him in our booth last night,” she playfully nudges your shoulder and winks at you with her tongue cheekily sneaking past her teeth.

“Is that why you left early - because me and Rodrick were in the Vampire’s lair?” You ask, referring to the booth that you’d had many after-show discussions, weed and drinks in, and had given it a name because you, Alyssa, Elektra and Cherie used it so much.

Alyssa shakes her head, “We all just figured that you and Rodrick would want some - privacy - so we all-just-went-home - anyway-,” she tiptoes closer to you with excitement clear on her face, “Is it official now - you and Rodrick?” She whispers.

Fuck no! “Toootally,” you drag it out with a forced, swooning smile on your face. I can’t dig myself any deeper than this… you have to stop yourself from facepalming your forehead. “And what about you and Gareth?” You ask purely to change the subject, your tone overly normal as if you hadn’t been scowling at the pair whenever you caught them together.

Alyssa’s cheeks go red and she tries to hide it by looking down, her infamous cowboy hat helps hide her blushing, “We - er - we’re just frien- I mean - I totally hate him - fuck Corroded Coffin!” She states way too enthusiastically before her ears perk up like a dog towards the sound of Corroded Coffin playing inside, “Huh - I’ve not heard this one before! C’mon - let’s go let’s go!” She shakes your shoulders excitedly, guiding you with nudges towards the door and inside the bar.

You catch yourself grinning at Alyssa’s excitement because it is contagious, it always has been.

The first thing that catches your eye, to your surprise, is Eddie, whose face is scrunched up from singing so passionately. You don’t even notice the crowd of familiar faces dancing and singing in front of you, but you do notice Alyssa squeezing your shoulders - it’s the only thing that you do notice that isn’t Eddie related right now.

“Do you think of me as I’m thinking of you?”

A similar warmth that you felt before comes back at his words and you don’t expect it. Your mouth drops open as you focus on a stray strand of hair that has elegantly and messily fallen over his right eye and then a droplet of sweat that is running down his cheek.

“Have you lost your mind? ‘Cause I’ve lost mine.”

You can’t help but think that you have lost your mind when thoughts of how pretty Eddie Munson looks when he’s singing about you, wielding his guitar with sweat all over him linger in your head.

“This is the most romantic song I’ve ever heard in my entire life!” Alyssa shouts in your ear with a massive grin on her face.

Just you wait until you hear the part where he screams about how much he hates me-

“She says that I’m a loser - I fuckin’ hate that bitch!”

There it is… right on cue.

Your eyes are wide as you continue to watch Eddie, but they are not wide with hate… more - in wonder at the way he sings his lyrics. Though they are words of hate, he delivers them in such a vulnerable and heartbroken way that causes you to be filled with admiration for him… especially after you’d deemed him to be a weak novice at most during his first gig here.

A genuine smile slowly starts to spread from your lips, to your rosy cheeks, to your bright eyes and to the lines between your brows when you realise that this is the most romantic thing that anybody has ever done for you… and of all people, it’s Eddie Munson who has swooned you into a frozen, wordless statue.

“‘Cause she takes and she takes - she won’t give in -,” Eddie’s eyelashes flutter as he sings. He looks so angelic that you don’t notice the stares from your fans who had witnessed the ruckus you’d caused last night, “And they love and they love but I don’t fit in!”

Eddie is completely focused on his guitar and the solo that he shreds from the instrument, like he’s making love to it… it’s intimate, watching his fingers pluck the strings like it’s just him and his guitar in the foggy room, you’re almost jealous (highlight on almost), but you’re the one he’s singing about so you guess it’s a win-win for both you and the guitar…

That is until you feel a tap on your shoulder that breaks your gaze from Corroded Coffin’s frontman. “Why is everybody glaring at you?!” Alyssa whisper-shouts in your ear.

You avoid looking at all of your glaring fans because you can already feel them on you, “I don’t know!” You lie… they’ll come around when they see me back on stage on Monday - it’s just a temporary glitch, you convince yourself, “- But it’s nothing I can’t handle, Al - trust me!”

“She says that I’m a loser - I fuckin’ hate that bitch - ‘cause she takes and she takes - she won’t give in - and they love and they love but I don’t fit in!”

You feel Alyssa squeeze your shoulder in response, her way of saying ‘I trust you’ through physical touch.

The sound of Eddie’s guitar sounds again, drawing you in like it’s calling for you. Eddie then moves closer to the microphone again, his pink and plump lips brushing up against the metal of it, breathing into it before starts to vocalise with the melody he is playing on his guitar. His voice and guitar harmonise together beautifully, especially inside the Hideout where it creates an echoey effect - it sounds like a siren calling to put a spell on everyone in the room… and it’s working.

Then Gareth’s drums then take over Eddie’s guitar and vocals, causing Alyssa to blurt out an excited scream, but you’re still longingly staring at Eddie with a dreamy smile plastered on your lips.

“And they love and they love but I don’t fit in - I’ve lost my mind - but-,” Eddie’s eyes open, not completely as his lids still are half covering his blown-out pupils, and they happen to land dead on you, “m-my - queen will be kind,” he stutters, but quickly gains control over his vocals when he further examines your face, the small smile on it… like you’re actually enjoying yourself… and your eyes… you’re looking at him the way he’s been dreaming for you to look at him for years… it fills him with so much confidence that he doesn’t dare tear his dark eyes away from you.

You ignore Alyssa’s desperate taps on your shoulder and her looming over your shoulder to try and grab your attention, which is showing no sign of budging away from Corroded Coffin’s frontman.

“I’ve lost my mind - I know my queen will be kind,” he doesn’t even blink away from you at the back of the small crowd before him, not even once. “My queen will be kind,” he slurs out the last verse with a smug smile on his face, like the cat who got the cream, and sweat continuously dripping down his face from the exhaustion of his entire set… it only makes you feel more turned on - infatuated, confused, horny - can I be all three of those things at once? I don’t know - I’ve never felt all three so intensely before.

“Why’re you looking at Eddie like that?!” You feel another tap on the shoulder from Alyssa. “Was it about you - the song?!” Yet another tap.

“Maybe it was - who cares?!” You respond, trying to sound as detached as your words, but your eyes still don’t leave Eddie’s while he starts to play the song’s gradual end.

Alyssa looms over your shoulder, no longer staring at you or the stage. Her taps on your shoulder falter, “And if you and Rodrick are official, why is he shoving his tongue down another girl’s throat?!” Her words certainly do grab your attention now, they make your blood run cold after it had been so warm, and cause your head to whip in the direction that Alyssa is looking.

And sure enough, Alyssa hadn’t mistaken Rodrick for somebody else. He is stood at the bar, pulling on another girl’s locks like his life depended on it, his leg tucked between her thighs and the kissing is so messy that you can even see saliva shining around their mouths from where you are.

Your nose twitches, your lips tremble and your entire body temperature is frozen to the point that it feels like a horrible burning sensation when you move even an inch.

I can’t believe him.

It’s not like you are, or ever had been in love with Rodrick - but you assumed that he had enough respect for you not to be doing what he is doing right now… in front of you, your fans, your friends, people that you love - and in the place that you love so dearly.

You become hyper sensitive and aware of your surroundings, unlike before, where you had been focused on none other than Eddie. You are met with glares upon glares while there’s mumbling and whispering all around you now that Corroded Coffin have stopped playing - you no longer feel welcome in a place you call home more than your actual home that you eat and sleep in.

Your heart is pounding twice as fast as when you were stood outside, and your eyes are threatening to spill tears.

This is not how I planned for tonight to go… sneak into the Hideout undetected, listen to Eddie’s song and leave just as undetected as I came… not get caught by Alyssa, develop a crush on Eddie, be detected, see Rodrick making out with another girl, cry on the dance floor.

You can no longer stall the tears, they start to fall in gallons upon gallons and you can’t do anything to hide them, no matter how much you try to wipe them all away with your wrist that is now covered with eyeliner and mascara.

As you furiously keep wiping your tears away, you unintentionally catch a glimpse of Eddie, who is looking back at you with an extremely concerned expression on his face. He’s no longer smiling sweetly, his eyes are no longer bright or full of want, no, need for you, but there’s still yearning in them that is still tempting you.

No, you shake your head, looking down. Tonight was important for him and I want my smiling face, enjoying his song, to be how he remembers tonight… and how his face lit up when he saw me to be how I remember tonight. You stare straight at the exit of the Hideout - I need to get out of here fast - and make a beeline for it, wiggling yourself out of Alyssa’s embrace and pushing past people, hearing them booing you and saying things like: ‘I can’t believe I ever was a fan - Corroded Coffin are where it’s at!’

When you reach the door you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for the bliss of fresh, cold air and silence.

It’s still raining outside, maybe even more heavily than before you set foot in the Hideout, but you don’t care. You face the sky, scrunching you’re eyes shut and let the rain fall onto your skin and drench your clothes. The loud sounds of rain droplets continuously falling around you and the sensation of water on your skin nearly makes you forget about what just happened.

That’s the second commotion you’ve caused in two nights, Vamp - I don’t know whether to congratulate you or pity you. You force out a laugh that comes out in small chokes.

The door to the Hideout opens and shuts, the creak that it makes is quieter than you expect, but the rain is just that loud.

“Vamp?” Eddie. You refuse to look at him directly, but you can make out his frame in the corner of your eye, “Vamp - hey,” he jogs towards you and stops when he’s stood right in front of you, you stare at his sneaker-clad feet.

“Hey, Eddie,” you pause before saying his name in a small voice that makes him visibly deflate, you suppose he was expecting a sassy response like ‘what the hell are you looking at, Munson?’, but you don’t give him that - you don’t give him anything.

Eddie roughly pulls his bandana off of his head, “If it’s about the song, ‘m sorry… but I didn’t think you’d be here after the whole ‘fuck you, fuck this, fuck that’ ordeal earlier,” he rambles, which makes you giggle through a few more tears.

You suck in all of your pride and drag your eyes from his sneakers to meet his own eyes, that are full of concern for you, “I’m - not upset because of t-the song,” you mumble softly, but loud enough for him to hear. Your eyes flicker between both of his eyes and you notice small droplets of water gathering on his eyelashes, “I - I loved it, Eddie.”

He blinks, “Y-you - did?”

A weak giggle leaves your lips, “Mhm - I did. I know - I’m shocked too.” You wipe your eyes again, but with your other wrist now, “You should go - back inside, Eddie - you’ll catch a cold - I’m fine,” you state, surprising concern for him showing in your voice.

“I’m not leaving you out here alone,” Eddie shakes his head firmly, his hair now clinging to his shoulders from how soaked its getting due to the rain, he’d stay outside and happily drown in the rain if he got to hear you say his name once more - it sounds angelic coming from your lips.

“But-.”

“No, I’m not going anywhere-,” he boldly states before his eyes soften under your gaze, “M-kay?”

You look up at him with half-lidded eyes… it’s kinda funny how the person who cares the most is the person who I’ve spent so much time hating. “Okay,” you whisper with a little, shy smile on your face.

Eddie’s lips tug up into a smug smile that you would’ve punched off if he hadn’t have written such a beautiful song for you, or cared for you more than anyone else you know. He slowly brings his bandana towards your face, cautiously dabbing and wiping away your smudged and runny make-up from your eyes. His tongue is peeking past his lips and his eyes are furrowed in pure concentration, but his hands are shaking from nerves - he’s never seen you this close-up before and he doesn’t know what to say, or think, so he decides to just enjoy this moment.

You examine each other’s features so closely that you become dizzy. Eddie brings his spare hand up to your shoulder, steadying you gently when he realises that you’re leaning closer - you forget that Rodrick even exists until you find yourself gazing at Eddie’s lips.

Fuck it - if he can move on that quickly then so can I.

“Did you mean them?” You find yourself asking timidly while he’s still carefully wiping your make-up away.

He pauses his small movements around your eyes to focus on your question, “Mean them - as innn? My totally metal moves on that stage tonight?” He jokes nervously, making his dimples stand out.

You giggle with a roll of your eyes before punching his chest gently with your fist, “N-no, dummy,” you cringe at yourself for being so soft, but you can’t help it because he’s being so soft and gentle with you. He’s chuckling at being called a ‘dummy’ by you, resuming cleaning your face with his bandana, which you take the opportunity to calm your nerves by deeply exhaling and closing your eyes, “I meant your words - about me,” your words come out so softly that for a moment you wonder if he has heard you, but him halting his movements again and hearing him taking a deep breath confirms to you that he has - you open your eyes.

I must look like a complete mess right now, you realise, with your hair soaked and your eyes heavy and dark with patches of eyeshadow that Eddie hadn’t wiped away yet… but he is looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down before he nods shyly, his eyes wavering from yours for a brief second, “Y-yeah, every word.”

There’s a hint of fear and guilt in his eyes, but you can’t bring yourself to be angry at him for essentially calling you an egotistical ‘bitch’ right now when you are feeling so many other intense feelings that are urging you to just bite the bullet and kiss him… before you think too hard about it, you reach for his shoulders and quickly close the distance between you, capturing his plump pink lips with your own.

He falls backward slightly at your momentum and the way that you practically throw your body at his. He’s completely frozen against you with his eyes wide open while you eagerly move your lips on his… shit - did I just make a massive mista- to your surprise, the moment that you start to think about pulling away to apologise, he kisses you back.

His lips taste like the beer he probably downed before his show, and with every second that you kiss them, you’re hungry for more of him so you satisfy your need for him by sliding your hands from his shoulders to behind his neck for more skin to skin contact. You press your fingers into the back of his neck, which makes him grunt against you and the kiss becomes even more desperate.

His technique is kinda sloppy, literally, but you’re already so wet from the rain that a little more isn’t going to hurt.

As you slip your tongue into his mouth his hands dive for your soaked hair and pull, making you moan into the kiss and he takes the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue now.

Your nose bumps against his larger one as you fight for dominance, which isn’t hard because when you slide your hands into his damp curly hair he is putty in your arms. He falls backward slightly as you press him against the exterior wall of the front of the Hideout, making him hold onto you even tighter, pulling your entire body against him so that there is not a single gap between your bodies… you can feel his erection through his jeans, pressing against your stomach, which causes him to whine, and you to smirk into the kiss… already? I know I’m good but I didn’t know I was that good.

“Vamp-,” he mumbles dreamily, breathlessly before taking a millisecond to gather some more breath. “I- my pants-,” his face is completely pink, except for his cheeks which are cherry red, “it - it hurts.”

You pull away from the kiss for a brief moment, leaning your upper half back to look down at where your hips meet, “You mean your-” You whisper with an amused look on your face.

He looks down too at where you both are connected, nodding after, “Y-yeah, in case you haven’t noticed - ‘m kinda - hard,” he mumbles quickly in a sarcastic tone.

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling, “Jeez, Eddie - we’ve been making out for three minutes tops.”

Eddie keeps his head low, sliding one of his hands down from your hair to your cheek, using his fingertips to drag along your skin, “I know I know, it’s not like I’ve been dreaming about this for years or anything like some freak.” He finally decides to look up at you, and as if he is checking that you are real, he swipes his thumb over your cheekbone, “Besides, it’s not like I’m a Casanova or anything. This-,” he gestures between the two of you with his other hand, “happens to me… never,” he admits.

“Never?” You ask in a hushed, high pitched voice, gazing at him so intensely while you wait for an answer.

You know that he knows what you’re asking exactly because his face gets even redder, embarrassed. He shakes his head, “Never.” His eyes try to read your facial expression in response to him revealing that he is, in fact, a virgin - he wonders if he has scared you away for a second, but you stay firmly in his arms, which is good enough of an answer for him.

The thought of nobody else having touched him actually turns you on even more… if he had told you a few days ago you might’ve called him ‘lame’ just to get a rise out of him, but it wouldn’t have been the truth - you admire him for waiting.

“Can I - touch you?” You ask cautiously, resting your hand on his shoulder while your other one stays tangled in his wet hair, “It’s totally okay if you don’t want me to.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, “Fuck - yes, of course I want you to touch me, Vamp - it’s just-,” he examines your surroundings, suspiciously staring at some drunk people who stagger out of the Hideout without noticing either of you just metres away from the door. “Out here?” He asks in a small voice, locking eyes with you again. His pupils are blown out with excitement, adrenaline and nerves that you can tell he’s trying to fight off… because the thought of being jacked off by you with the risk of getting caught is intriguing him - and making him even more hard, which he didn’t think could be possible considering his cock is already straining his jeans.

“You - think I’m being crazy right?” Your lips tug up to the side before you let out a small giggle.

Eddie giggles with you, “Crazy hot.”

You shake your head, giggling even more, “Dork.”

I can’t believe I’m flirting with Eddie Munson right now.

You can tell that everything you’re doing is turning him on even more, even calling him a dork, “D-do it - touch me, Vamp,” he whispers with a scrunched up face.

You hum in response, staring at him for a few seconds before capturing his lips into a second kiss that is so full of anticipation and heavy breathing. You slide your hand down the outfit that he had been wearing all day, over his Black Sabbath t-shirt and jeans - once your fingertips touch the small area of his belly that is peeking between the hem of his shirt and jeans his breath hitches.

“F-fuck - I - can’t believe - we’re doing this,” he admits breathlessly with a little chuckle into the kiss while your hand dares to go even lower.

Your hand gently cups his erection over his jeans, “Y-you - mean - out here?” You say between more kisses.

“Well - yeah - that too, but I meant - you and me,” he mumbles against your mouth dreamily while you give him a light squeeze, which makes him moan into your mouth, “We - hated - each other this - morning- ah!” He whines when you give him a harder squeeze to stop him from rambling desperately against your mouth.

“Oh - I still - hate you, Munson,” You unconvincingly say between kisses.

Eddie chuckles lowly, “Then - I - hate - you - more… I - hate - you - so - much,” his words sound just as unconvincing as yours.

You smile against his lips, thinking about how cute it is that he can’t keep his mouth shut, but he has to keep quiet if he doesn’t want any of the drunk staggerers coming out of the Hideout to notice the both of you together. “Just shut - up and let me - help you,” you mumble into more kisses, to which he responds with a hum and a gyrate of his hips.

He keeps rolling his hips into yours while your hand keeps palming him, making himself whimper and hungry for you to actually stick your hand down his pants and touch him.

You fiddle with the hem of his jeans while you kiss messily, the rest of your arms all over each other, and just as you’re about to stick your hand down his pants you hear your name being called… but it’s not Eddie’s voice - it’s Rodrick’s.

Hearing his voice makes your blood bubble with anger again, and your heart to sink down to your feet upon realisation that another moment had been ruined for you tonight by Rodrick.

You push Eddie away, which makes him ricochet back off of the wall and towards you, but you’re already facing Rodrick with a scowl on your face, “Rodrick.”

His face looks heartbroken, disappointed, angry, but you don’t feel a thing or a morsel of regret for kissing Eddie, “One minute you guys hate the shit outta each other and now you’re gettin’ it on outside my home… the fuck have I just walked into, Vamp?”

You open your mouth to speak, but Alyssa appears behind Rodrick, looking between you and Eddie with confusion written all over her face, “I can explain, Al,” you tell her with a pleading look.

Rodrick let’s out a sarcastic chuckle, “So she gets an explanation but I don’t?” He points at Alyssa with a thumb over his shoulder and speaks in a tone of disbelief.

“You think you deserve one?” You ask, your voice laced with distrust. Rodrick raises a brow, trying his hardest to look confused. “I saw you in there, Rodrick - playing tonsil tennis with that girl.”

Rodrick shakes his head before bringing a hand up to his chin, squeezing it between his thumb and index finger, “What was it that you said earlier? Oh yeah - ‘you’re not my boyfriend, Rodrick’ - and what was the other bit?” He thinks again for a second before a lightbulb switches on inside his head, “‘Eddie sure as hell isn’t my boyfriend either.’”

You can feel Eddie’s piercing stare on you at the mention of his name, the rest of his face is sort of dumbfounded, blank, and he visibly deflates with a long exhale, letting himself fall back against the wall.

“Oh fuck you, Rodrick!” You burst, feeling your eyes tear up from the anger boiling so hot inside you.

Rodrick smirks, pouting his bottom lip, “You won’t be, but she will,” he nods in the direction of the Hideout before turning himself back to the entrance, “See you Monday,” he mumbles before letting himself back into the bar, where muffled music can be heard from the stereo on the bar inside.

Your breathing is rapid and hot as you watch him, but your eyes sadden when they avert to Alyssa, who looks so downtrodden and disappointed in you, and you can’t be angry at her after you’d mocked and teased her for wanting to date Gareth, practically forbidding her from going anywhere near him… and here you are, kissing his best friend after swearing to her and the rest of your band that you loathed him.

Alyssa looks down at her fiddling fingers, “I - need to go home and - think about - stuff,” she mumbles, starting to turn away from you.

“Alyssa,” you call softly, watching her stop at the sound of your voice.

“I won’t tell Elektra and Cherie if that’s what you’re worried about,” she tells you softly, looking over her shoulder to give you a sad, closed mouth smile before taking her cowboy hat off and walking in the direction of her home.

A few minutes of silence pass and Eddie is still stood against the wall, watching you, but you’re too angry at yourself to speak… what was I even thinking? Making out with Eddie Munson out here - no, scratch that, making out with Eddie Munson full stop. It felt good to be in his arms - too good.

“Vamp,” you hear him mumble, causing you to catch a glance of him, his eyes still express deep concern and care for you which confuses your anger even more.

“I’m gonna go,” you say under your breath, glimpsing at his lips and turning yourself away before you attempt to kiss him again and fall in love even more.

“Vamp-,” he repeats as he takes a step towards you, ignoring the pain in his pants when he moves his legs.

You abruptly turn yourself around to face Eddie again and though you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t kiss him again a second ago… you find yourself leaning into him, crashing your lips against his roughly for a few seconds before pushing him away from you - no no no, what am I doing? “Leave me alone, Eddie,” you turn yourself away from him and start walking again.

“No - wait,” He catches your hand in his and gently tugs at it, his touch sending shivers through you, making you spin to face him once more. He’s looking down at your hand that is barely visible in his larger, veinier one that has little doodles on it that he probably drew during class yesterday. His eyes flicker up at your face, watching you react to the exact same tingles that he felt where your skin is touching his, “You - you feel that too, right? The electricity?”

Yes, everywhere - and I’m scared because I’ve never felt it before other than when I’m with you… and maybe that’s why I hated you, because I’m just a stupid scaredy cat about anything more than just a quick fuck before and after a gig with Rodrick… is what you want to say, but are too scared to actually voice it… maybe I can show it, that I do feel it too. You look at his lips for what feels like the thousandth time today, yet you aren’t tired of the sight of them, then you pull him towards you with your connected hands, kissing him. He loses himself in your kiss for a few seconds before his eyes open and he nudges you away, cutting the kiss short.

Eddie shakes his head, flustered, “No - no, I want to hear you say it,” he pleads breathlessly, watching your face contort into one of bewilderment at his sudden rejection for your kiss, “Please.”

You bite your lips together, thinking about it, but your brain can hardly come to any kind of conclusion because too much has happened… my mind is a mess, I just can’t think - I need some time alone to try and fix the mess that I’ve made over the last few days… my band, Alyssa - poor Alyssa.

Eddie looks up at the sky as if he’s praying for help from above before looking down at you and squeezing your hand that’s still encased by his, “C’mon, Vamp - you’re killing me here-.”

You scoff, “Me? Killing you?”

“Uh huh-.”

“You say that as if you haven’t destroyed my reputation at the Hideout, as if you haven’t taken away what was supposed to be Stake’s Halloween gig, as if I didn’t just lose a friend and - potentially my band just for kissing you,” you ramble, not realising that you’re squeezing Eddie’s hand for reassurance, like it’s a stress ball.

Eddie, however, does notice your lethal grip and looks down at your hands, choking out a little chuckle, “And yet you’re still holding my hand like a vice - gee, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you have feelings for me.”

Your face drops as you reach boiling point at yourself for giving your feelings away so easily. You snatch your hand out of Eddie’s immediately, dropping it back to your side with brute force, “Now I hate you,” you grumble. You both try to give each other hard eyes to try and express hate, but you both land up giving each other a soft, smouldering look that you just can’t fall for again, so you groan and turn on your heel, “Don’t you dare follow me this time, Munson - because I won’t be kissing you again!” You yell as you cross the quiet road to get to the woods.

“Good!” He yells back, watching your frame longingly as you walk away.

“Fantastic!” You shout, now letting your tears of want for him fall down your cheeks and onto the mud and leaves that crunch under your feet. You half expect him to shout back another word like ‘brilliant’ or ‘great’ that you’re sure will send another jab to your heart, but there’s only silence after that and you don’t know what’s worse - him giving up, or hearing another word that expresses how happy he is to know that you won’t be kissing him again.

This is the first and last time that Eddie Munson makes me cry.

⇝ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆!!!!! 𝐈𝐭'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 <𝟑

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 ’𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒’ 𝐨𝐫 ’𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧’ 𝐭𝐚𝐠-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ↯

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒

@big-ope-vibes @majesticjellyfishzombie @b-ritney @joyfulcandyrunaway @sidthedollface2 @aysheashea @spookycreepycookie @bookobsessedfreak @lefdepard @rottinglexi @aol19 @loki-loves-cats @eddieslooneymoonie @sillypurplemurple @hllfrclb @weirdkidfromtheupsidedown

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

@introvertedmouse @munsonology @fastnights @kathieycarrerarosshley @marjoriea13 @goldengunspinkrosses-blog @lolalanaie @neteyamsluvts @sadbitchfangirl

🜸

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

You look lonely.

《 VirginRockstar!Eddie munson x GroupieFem!Reader

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

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

《 Word count: a little over 8k

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

18+ minors dni

Year 1991

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why not have us both?" You joked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How was the show?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That's fair...."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nods respectfully at your decline.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh shit." He whispered to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Please fuck me." He begged you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I like it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You listened and halted.

"No more." He breathed.

"Want me to stop this time?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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