#rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 8/12)

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie is bad with words

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, moreee jealous!eddie, mentions of piercings, smut, King James III, flirting, tension tension tension, and eddie being... idk, here u go <3

word count: 6.2k

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“A date?”

The room has kicked into an orderly chaos compared to how it was just seconds ago. Richie is rallying the boys out of the room, an assistant is walking through with a trash bag to clean up the disastrous aftermath of pre-show rituals, and James is looking at you like you both have all the time in the world.

“Yeah, I mean… we don’t have to call it a date,” he shrugs, “we can just… hang out, maybe? Grab a bite to eat, maybe? Whatever you want.”

And oh god, Eddie was right.

And fuck— Eddie.

You scan the room for any sign of Eddie, but you find none, just the remains of smoke in the air and an irritated assistant picking up sticky bottles.

James’ hand has dropped from your waist, and his fingertips now lightly dance across the back of your hand, slinking around to grasp two of your fingers and give a light squeeze. Your heart races, eyes snapping back to his kind gaze. “Oh, um… okay, yeah.” You nod.

James smiles and tells you he’ll be out in the crowd with you in a little bit, and you nod before making your way out of the room. 

You said yes.

You said yes to James’ date, and honestly, a small part of you is excited because, god, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been on a date.

It’s hard to find time to date when you’re busy jumping from band to band, writing articles and music reviews, and still, somehow, managing to balance your own home life.

However, you were also under the impression that you and James had more of a friendship than anything romantic, so a bigger part of you is shocked (and slightly annoyed that Eddie managed to catch onto it before you did).

And then there’s that feeling. That tiny feeling in the corner of your mind that just wishes it was Eddie who had asked you. It’s a small feeling, yes, but it has a loud voice, and you find yourself growing irritated that you’re even thinking about Eddie when he only ever made things difficult.

But is it wrong to want somebody who doesn’t know what they want for themselves? Is it wrong to want someone who can’t even bring themselves to look you in the eye and be honest for one minute?

Because it’s no secret, the chemistry brewing between you and Eddie, from the moment you met, there was an obvious attraction, and the only thing that got in the way of that was Eddie’s aversion towards your job— which is beyond your control. 

And though there’s obviously a sexual attraction between you both, you can’t seem to deny the emotional connection you also share— because you and Eddie are more alike than what meets the eye.

Clearly, you both share a love for music, but you also grew up with similar experiences— from being teased for being and liking different things than your peers to having your heart broken by who you imagined would be your forever person.

God, why are you thinking about Eddie when you’ve just scored a date with James? 

You’re not paying attention when you step out of the dressing room, so you’re shocked and slightly spooked when you feel a hand wrapping around your bicep and tugging you off to the side of the door.

It’s Eddie; you know it’s Eddie because you’ve become an expert at depicting Eddie’s scent, and right now, you’re drowning in him. 

Eddie’s eyes are sharp and angry with a chilling undertone of something you can’t quite pinpoint. Fear? Jealousy? Resistance?

“Not into each other, huh?”

You blink at Eddie, still trying to find your way through the daze of events you’ve just gone through, and your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, “Oh, for fucks sake, Eddie. Are you serious—” “You can’t stand here and lie to me when I just witnessed whatever the fuck that was in there.” He gestures to the wall beside you, the wall that separates you and Eddie from James.

“It wasn’t anything.” You lie. 

Eddie doesn’t buy it, however, because he’s leaning in closer, alcohol and mint-coated breath fanning across your face as he calmly asks, “Then what did he say?”

You shake your head, dizzy with his proximity and the fear that James could walk out any second and see you and Eddie practically pressed against each other and misread the situation— because even though you may not precisely like James romantically, you still care for him, and you don’t want to hurt his feelings. 

How will you let him down easily after the date, then? What if the date goes well, and James thinks you’re more interested in him than you actually are? This is a mess, and your mind is a whirlwind of things you shouldn’t have done.

You blink through the haze once again, “Huh?”

Eddie’s jaw ticks, “What did he say to you? You looked shocked; what’d he say?”

Oh god, Eddie saw that? You thought he’d maybe have gotten bored of watching, and now you wish Richie had bursted through the doors just a few seconds earlier. And why do you even care? Why do you care that Eddie saw or what his reaction might be if you tell him the truth? 

Your heart is racing, and Eddie’s eyes are beautiful, and he’s still holding your arm, and you hate how much you want to scream at him to just let you in. Because, suddenly, you don’t want to go on a date with James, even if James is the kinder route, the more willing candidate, the one that makes more sense.

“Why do you care, Eddie?” You snap.

“Because I,” Eddie pauses, frustration settling into his bones. He looks at you like you might be the only thing he’s ever truly seen, and you don’t realize how your fingers are curling around his elbow, both of your fingertips sinking into the warmth of what could be.

“Eddie!” 

Eddie removes his hand from you as if your skin is hot to the touch, and you drop your hand as well, curling your fingers into the palm of your hand and clenching with a deep breath.

Eddie turns to Richie, who’s holding a clipboard and barking directions at staff and crew. “Come on, man, you’re on in 30.” Richie waves his hand.

Eddie turns back to you, dark eyes now cleared and holding urgency as he speaks, “Can you just— fuck,” Eddie tugs at his curls, and your face twists in confusion. You say his name at the same time that Richie calls him once again, and Eddie grumbles, “One second, Rich!” Eddie calls back.

“Just don’t go anywhere for the first few songs, okay?”

“What?”

“Eddie, 10 seconds!” 

And Eddie’s pacing backward as he speaks to you, “Just the first few songs. Please?”

Please. You never thought you would hear that word coming from Eddie— and your stomach twists, but you nod anyway, and then Eddie’s off to the stage.

For some reason, tonight has spun out in ways you’re having trouble wrapping your mind around, and you barely hear James walking out of the room until he presses a gentle hand to your shoulder, pulling your eyes to him.

He has your lightweight jacket in one hand as he offers it to you, “I was thinking maybe we could dip out now? I know a good place for burgers, and I figure we’ve seen the show plenty of times now— I mean, unless if you’d still like to watch, that’s not a problem,” He’s rambling, and you find it cute, so you reach out a hand to press to his arm and thank him for your jacket.

And you feel bad, glancing over your shoulder as you hear the crowd screaming upon the band's entrance, but you figure James is right— you have seen the show plenty of times, so one night off won’t hurt, will it? And besides, it’s not the big finale yet, so you’re not really missing anything.

You nod as you slip on your jacket, “Yeah, let’s go; I’m in the mood for a good meal anyway.”

James’ universe is fun and bright and spontaneous, all things he is. It’s something you find yourself admiring as you watch him jump from game to game at the arcade he dragged you to after dinner.

You were both full and satisfied from heavy burgers and fries, and James decided you both needed a way to shake off the food coma; and, as James said, “What better way to wake up than lose money in a bunch of rigged games?”

You start strong with a winning streak in Mortal Kombat, Daytona USA, and Star Wars, but you eventually lose your stretch when James crushes you in Dance Dance Revolution. You made him go a second time, but you still lost, and James called your frown cute, and it made your stomach twist because— fuck, this is a date. You aren’t here as just friends.

You make your way around the arcade until you both decide to call it a night and wrap it up with a few rounds of Pac-Man. It’s chillier in the city tonight, so James takes it upon himself to haul over a taxi to take you both to the hotel.

It’s nearing midnight when you and James walk into the hotel lobby, well past the ending of the show, and you’re holding your breath all the way to the elevator, silence taking over when the doors shut. And tonight was fun and lighthearted, and you’d hate to end it on a dull note.

You should just rip the bandaid off. Do it quick and get it over with so you don’t mislead James, because god, he’s such a good guy, and you’re just… you’re all confused with yourself and— fuck, James is looking at you, just do it.

“I think we should just stay friends.” You rush out.

If James is surprised, you wouldn’t be able to tell by a long shot because he’s simply shoving a hand in his pockets and shrugging, “Yeah, I kind of figured when you avoided holding my hand.” He scratches at his neck, and you fail to hold back the sympathetic twist on your face, “I had a really great time, I did, but I just can’t do anything serious right now…” You shyly explain, and James nods his head.

It falls awkwardly silent, and you curse Richie for booking the entire crew near the top of the building because the floor numbers seem to change slower than the seasons. James breaks the silence just four floors away from your destination, “It’s Eddie, isn’t it?”

You freeze at that, head snapping to look at James in shock, “I— what?”

James shrugs for the second time and turns to the doors, “I kind of clocked it as soon as you joined; you two have some weird thing going on.” He halfheartedly teases, and you feel your body heating up because if James can notice it, then who else has noticed it? God, this is more of a mess than you thought.

“Nothing is going on there,” you lie, “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but Eddie hates my guts, so.” You jokingly shrug. James laughs to ease the tension, only glancing back at you when you slow to a stop and the doors open, “I had a fun night, too, by the way. No hard feelings.” And with a wink, he wanders off to his room, and you’re left stepping out into the hallway. When you turn the corner, you find yourself wishing the floor would open up and swallow you whole because right outside of your door stands Eddie Munson.

He watches you walk down the empty hall until you stand before him. He’s leaning a shoulder against your doorframe, one hand tucked in his pocket as the other works his cigarette back and forth from his lips. He’s in his usual all-black attire, and his eyes are dark beneath the smudged eyeliner and eyeshadow from the show. And it seems as if he got off the stage and came straight here, seeing as his hair is still slightly damp with sweat and the chains on his neck stick to his chest.

He speaks around a cloud of smoke, dark hooded eyes peering down at you with a gaze so sharp you almost cower, “Where were you?”

Jesus Christ, the audacity of this man.

Your initial thought is to snap back at him and ridicule him for being an asshole— and what’s his deal with always coming to your room? But then you remember you walked out on him when he’d asked you to stay for the first few songs.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, I—” “You went on a date.”

You freeze at that, blinking up at him as your face twists in confusion, “How do you know that?”

“Because where else would you be?” He counters.

“Maybe I got sick.” You argue, and Eddie raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing over your figure, “You don’t look sick.” He points out.

Your eyebrows pinch in frustration as Eddie takes another hit of his cigarette, “What do you want? I already said I’m sorry— which is much more than you’ve ever done, by the way.” 

“I said sorry.” Eddie snaps. Eddie snuffs out his cigarette in the large plant next to the door as you scoff, turning to angrily shove your keycard into the door, “What, that shitty apology in the garden alleyway? You call that an apology? How fucking dense are you?” You open the door, moving to step in until Eddie’s fingers wrap around your arm, turning you back to him, “I said sorry. An actual apology, I did it, and you weren’t fucking there to hear it.” He seethes.

And woah, what the fuck does that mean? You weren’t there to hear it? What does he mean?

You blink, head shaking in confusion as you gaze up at Eddie, brows furrowed, eyes searching for an answer as you ask, “What do you mean?”

Eddie’s eyes are so beautiful, with swirling pools of forest ground and the tiniest specks of honey, and you believe somewhere within his eyes lives a fairy that gives him that ability to pull you in every time. He’s a hypnosis of a human, and it’s dangerous the way you can’t seem to fight through it.

Your eyes flutter shut when Eddie leans close enough to graze his lips over yours, and your heart races in anticipation of a kiss, but you can physically feel Eddie holding himself back.

“Eddie,” you lowly say, “What do you mean?”

Eddie turns his head to where his lips kiss the skin of your cheek, breath tickling the warm skin and sending shivers down your spine. He lets out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes tight and muttering a curse under his breath as your hands slink up his chest to curl into the fabric of his shirt. The soft, curly strands of Eddie’s hair dance across your lips, and you want to scream because every inhale and exhale of your lungs is full of nothing but Eddie.

His name prances across your tongue once more, and Eddie cracks.

Eddie cracks wide open; one last hit of your hammer, and he’s putty in your hands, mouthing at you as if his life depended on it, devouring you and breathing you and pushing you until you have nowhere to go but inside your room.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie mumbles against your lips. “I’m sorry… let me make it up to you.”

You’re breathless and dizzy from lack of air, and Eddie is pushing you back onto the hotel bed, “I— what?”

Eddie’s fingers slip under your top, cool fingers pressing into your warm skin and causing your breath to hitch against his lips, “Let me make you feel good.” Eddie whispers against your lips.

And fuck, this is insane. 

This is insane.

Just a few hours ago, you would’ve shoved Eddie away from you and told him to eat shit, but for some reason, with the way Eddie’s touching you and talking so gently, you find your body melting into his touch as you nod your head. “Yes?” Eddie seems like he doesn’t believe it, and your stomach twists as you clench your thighs together, nodding once more, “Yes.” You confirm.

Eddie kisses you once again, hastily and eagerly, as his hands push your top further up your torso. Your muscles tense and twitch beneath Eddie’s calloused fingers, and Eddie hums against the softness of your mouth, panting against your lips as he repeats, “Gonna make you feel good. Make up for what I did.”

You breathlessly laugh, “S’gonna take a lot more than this, Munson.” 

And although you were slightly serious with that comment, you suppose Eddie takes it as more of a challenge as he shoves your top entirely over your chest, pulling away to tug the shirt off of you and toss it to the side.

Eddie surges forward to press sloppy kisses against the uncovered skin of your chest, sucking tiny little marks as he moves further down your body, pressing a hand to your chest to push you down into the bed when he reaches the waistband of your skirt.

It’s a black denim skirt, and Eddie takes a moment to admire how they hug your thighs perfectly— and he can’t seem to bring himself to remove it from your waist, so he pushes the skirt up around your hips instead. Your heart is racing, and you can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you attempt to close your thighs, but Eddie places his palms flat against the warm insides of them.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me already. I haven’t even taken off these cute little panties of yours.” Eddie presses a thumb to your cotton-covered clit, dragging the pad of his thumb down your slit and pressing into the damp spot. Your breath hitches, sparks flying throughout your body, and Eddie smiles. You whine, “I thought you were apologizing.” You frown.

Eddie hums, leaning forward to press a kiss right where your thigh meets the fold of your pussy. You squirm, and Eddie snickers, “I am.” He responds.

You sit up to lean on your elbows, glaring down at him between your thighs as you speak, “You’re not. You’re just teasing me.” You point out.

Eddie doesn’t respond as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties, drags them down your legs, and drops them to the side, gaze flickering up to yours as you clench your thighs together. Eddie holds your gaze as he wraps his arms around your thighs, hooking his hands into the dip of your waist and tugging you to the edge of the bed. Your center throbs in anticipation as Eddie sinks to his knees on the carpet floor, dark eyes still locked onto yours as he fits his upper body between your thighs.

And Eddie doesn’t even bother looking between your thighs when he dips his head in and begins devouring you.

Eddie, you find, eats pussy like he has all the time in the world.

He’s sloppy with it, lapping at your center and suckling your clit until you’re a whiney mess beneath him. His fingers curl into the denim skirt that’s bunched around your hips, and his rings tauntingly wink up at you under the light as he clenches his fist against the material, tugging you closer to him so he can thrust his tongue further into you.

While Eddie is busy tasting you, you scramble to reach behind your back and unhook your bra. Between your thighs, Eddie watches as you toss the garment off to the side before cupping your tits in your hands and rolling your nipple between your middle and forefingers. Eddie moans against you, burying his face deeper into you and suckling enough to have you crying out in pleasure.

Eddie pulls back for a moment, sticky strings of his saliva and your arousal dripping from his lips as he removes one hand from your waist to sink two fingers into your cunt. You pant out his name, your face twisting in pleasure when he curls his fingers up against your walls. Your eyes are screwed shut so you don’t see Eddie leaning forward to purse his lips together and let a drop of saliva drip over your pussy and sinfully coat your clit. He’s quick to attach his mouth to the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you reach out a hand to thread your fingers through his hair, knuckles curling at the root to drag an animalistic growl from Eddie.

Eddie is one of the best, if not the best, head you’ve ever received. By the time you begin teetering over the edge, your thighs are twitching and tensing as if you’ve already come undone, and your chest is heaving beneath Eddie’s fingers as he toys with your tits.

When you cum, Eddie becomes greedier than he’d been before, licking and slurping up every last drop you have to give until you’re twitching away from him and pressing a shaky hand to his shoulder. 

Eddie slinks up your body, sinking his fingers into his mouth to clean off your wetness before you slink an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to kiss you. Eddie’s fingers are wet as they cup the left side of your face, and the feeling of something wet on your face would usually have you cringing in distaste, but you only moan and press yourself further into Eddie.

You mumble for him to take his shirt off, and Eddie follows swiftly, too eager to go back to kissing you. He shivers when your hands meet his bare chest, fingertips exploring the vast expanse of untold stories in ink, hard yet plush muscles of his arms flexing beneath your touch. 

“I wasn’t done saying sorry.” Eddie pants against your lips, and you breathily laugh, “You can finish some other time; I want to feel you now.” You respond, busying your hands with trailing down his lower stomach, sinking past the waistband of his leather pants.

Eddie kisses his way down your neck to begin sucking pretty bruises into the skin, and your core clenches when you realize Eddie is wearing nothing beneath the leather pants— and you try hard not to imagine how he’s probably been pressed up against the rough fabric, achy tip undeniably receiving pleasure from the sinful ways he uses his hips when he’s on stage. 

Your shock doesn’t end there, however, because when you sink lower to wrap your hand around his cock, your body goes still at the feeling beneath your fingertips. Against the fiery skin of your cheek, you feel Eddie’s lips stretch into a smile and your heart races.

“What’s the matter, princess? Find something you like, hm?” Eddie can’t help the way his voice shakes near the end because you're giving his cock an experimental squeeze and running a finger over the sudden surprise.

You smile as you speak, “Is that a piercing?”

Eddie hums, turning his head, nose smashing against the side of yours as he presses a kiss to the side of your mouth, “Maybe..” He teasingly confirms.

And god, you might pass out.

Eddie’s dick is pierced. You’re not sure what more you’d expect from a rockstar, but you’re still shocked and ushering him to remove the annoying restriction of his pants.

When Eddie finally gets rid of his leather pants, you’ve shifted to sit on your knees in the middle of the bed, and Eddie stalks over to the edge of the bed, beckoning you over.

You don’t waste time crawling over to him, eyes stuck on the pretty sight before you. And sure, it’s not the first time you’ve seen a pierced dick (you’ve spent too much time working with rockstars), but it sure as hell is the first time you’ll be fucking one— not to mention his cock is perfect. It’s shaped and cut to perfection, something you’d expect from a pornstar, but Eddie is not a pornstar, and god, the sight of the metal barbell nestled right beneath the pink tip on the underside of his cock— it’s dizzying to see.

You peer up at Eddie, wrapping a hand around his cock and stroking him once, chest fluttering when he fails to hold back a moan. “It’s really pretty, Eddie.” You softly say, and Eddie sheepishly and breathlessly laughs as you squeeze at his tip. “Want you to fuck me with it.”

Eddie groans, muttering a curse as he leans forward to press his lips against yours, pushing you until you’re crawling back up the bed to lay beneath him.

“I’ve never been with someone with a piercing…” You admit, and Eddie smiles at you, and your stomach twists when he reaches down to gently guide your movement up and down the length of his cock.

“Really? You’ve never fucked a pierced cock before?” He manages to say through his pleasure. Your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek as you shake your head no, and Eddie snickers when you ask, “Have you?”

His lips quirk into a smile, “Honey, you think I got the piercing done without a test run on how it feels?” He jokes.

You snort at that, and Eddie beams at you. You swipe your thumb over his leaking tip, and Eddie curses, watching as you mindlessly bring the glistening pad of your finger up to your tongue and hum. 

“How’s it taste, sweetheart?” Eddie teases, and you hum as you respond, “Good. So good, wish I could taste more—” “No, no, no.” Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his head, reaching down to wrap a fist around himself.

“This isn’t about me. Plus, I’m losing my patience right now; I’ve been thinking about this since I fucking met you.” He presses himself flat against your pussy, and you gasp, fingers digging into his shoulders as he rolls his hips to slide himself up and down your wet cunt, the cool metal of the piercing catching onto your clit and sending shivers up your spine.

His gaze falls between your thighs to watch as your slick centers meet, cursing at the way your wet folds part around each drag of his cock. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess, fuck.” He rasps.

Your mind is spinning with the roll of Eddie’s hips, his dirty compliment, and his admission that he’s thought of fucking you before. You don’t dare to tell him you’ve thought of it too or that you’ve gotten off to the thought of it. You don’t even have to think about it because the tip of Eddie’s cock is catching the slickness of your entrance, and you’re gasping, body jerking in pleasure. Your lips accidentally smear against Eddie’s shoulder, and he hums, tilting his head and dipping to catch your lips in a sloppy kiss.

As he distracts you with his mouth, he slowly presses into you, and you lose your ability to keep up with Eddie’s lips because holy fuck— Eddie is bigger than you thought. Sure, you got a good look at him when he removed his pants to show you his surprise, but your mind must’ve been too muddled with lust to clock the size of him.

You can feel everything as he sinks into you, every vein running up the sides, and the mind-numbing sensation of the barbell as he presses into you. “Holy shit,” you breathlessly whisper against the skin of his shoulder, legs tightening around his waist as the burning yet toe-curling feeling settles in. Eddie snickers above you, “That good?”

You’re coherent enough to snap back at his cockiness, “No.”

Eddie laughs, and you want to make a snippy comeback, but it gets lost on your tongue when Eddie gives his hips one experimental roll.

Eddie is pathetically close to cumming.

Eddie’s cock has only been nestled within your warm, wet, pulsing walls for barely two minutes, and he’s about to blow like he’s a goddamn teenager— and it doesn’t help how heavenly you sound and look writhing beneath him.

Eddie’s not sure where to look; your face, your tits, or the hypnotizing sight of your cunt sucking him in over and over with each thrust he gives you. “Fuck,” he curses, “You’re taking me so well, princess.” He leans in the nose at your cheek before licking at the curve of your jaw, shivering at the wet moan you pant into his ear.

“Been hiding this pretty pussy from me?” Eddie hums, sucking a delicate bruise right below your ear. And god, Eddie could spend forever like this, drilling into you and marking you everywhere and pulling these pretty sounds from you. Eddie’s so close, oh god.

You mewl at his words, hips squirming as Eddie snaps his hips into you, “No,” you whine, “You’ve been mean to me.” And Eddie thinks you’re awfully cute when you’re blissed out and pouting. And your eyes are glossy, lips slick with spit and swollen from kissing.

Eddie wishes he had a photographic memory because he doesn’t want to forget a single detail of this moment. Eddie has one hand clutching the sheets beside your head as he lets the other hand coast up your side to land on your chest, thumb brushing over your nipple to pull a moan from you. “I know,” Eddie lowly replies, “I’m sorry, princess.” He kisses your chin, and you clench around him.

Eddie’s fist clenches around the sheet, fighting to hold himself back as he presses deep into you and stills, cock twitching within your walls. “Gonna let me show you how sorry I am?” He asks.

You're hazy and cockdrunk, and Eddie can’t wait to unpack the fact that you go braindead when you’re fucked good. Eddie nudges himself into you, although he’s pressed all the way into your cunt, and you whimper before eagerly nodding.

“Yeah?” Eddie teases. You nod again, fingers digging into Eddie’s arm as you speak, “Yes, Eddie— fuck. Yeah, show me, please.”

Eddie almost loses it.

It’s slightly scary how much Eddie likes this, how much he’s enjoying this— the feeling of you beneath him, the wetness, the heat, the sweat-sticky touches, and the sloppy smattering of kisses. God, Eddie’s in love with it.

The short five-second break Eddie managed to pull from questioning (teasing) you was enough for him to get ahold of himself. Eddie sits up and grasps the back of your knee, hauling your leg over his shoulder to get a better angle at fucking you, and you gasp when his cock rubs against your spot.

Eddie doesn’t waste time once he gets the position situated. He leaves one hand splayed beside your head to hold him up as the other hand grips the warm flesh of your thigh before resuming his thrusting, this time at a deeper and quicker pace.

The sound of skin meeting and the wet sloshing noise of sex echoes through the room amongst the mix of moans and sultry-soaked remarks. Eddie doesn’t notice his hand slipping from your thigh and slinking up to wrap around your neck, but he hesitates when you whimper. He almost removes his hand, but you wrap a shaky hand around his wrist and nod— and fuck, Eddie will never be the same man after this.

Eddie can feel the heat and the pulse of your heart as his fingers tighten around your neck. Your moans are becoming more and more frequent and higher in pitch, and Eddie can feel the way you’re fluttering around him more sporadically, and he can’t wait to feel it when you cum.

Eddie leans over you, lips brushing your parted ones as he encourages you to let go, “Come on, let me feel it. I’m not leaving until you soak my cock, princess.”

Your body is on fire.

It’s almost alarming how easily and well Eddie has unraveled you. His presence is nearly overwhelming with the way he’s hovering so close over you, but you love it— the tickle of his long curls on your shoulders and chest, the intoxicating smell of him, the dizzying hold he has around your neck— you preen for it.

You’re so close when Eddie tells you to cum, and you barely have enough time to prepare for the earth-shattering orgasm that ripples through you the second Eddie presses a thumb to your aching clit and rubs tight circles against it.

Your body tenses, and your moans crack upon the surface as you melt into him until you’re nothing but a quivering mess. Eddie talks you through it, tells you how pretty you sound and how good you feel wrapped around him. Your orgasm had hit you so hard that you barely registered the broken moan that came from Eddie before he pushed deep into you and emptied every last drop of himself into your pulsing heat.

Eddie curses, his cock pulsing within you, and you let out an exhausted yet satisfied sigh when he rolls his hips into you once more. You’re both silent for a long moment as you come back down to earth, Eddie’s forehead pressed against your shoulder as you subconsciously let your hand run up the side of his torso.

Eddie shifts to turn his head to where he can slightly see your face as he still hides against your shoulder, “Apology accepted?”

Saturday morning, the next day, you wake up and want to bury yourself under the hotel sheets.

Last night was… interesting, to say the least. It was good— mind-blowing— but you still have that lingering feeling in your chest that maybe you and Eddie shouldn’t have slept together. Maybe you let him in too quickly. Maybe it was all a lie, Eddie’s ‘apology’. All the gentle caresses and the passion-filled kisses with the heart flutter words. Maybe it was all for show, just to get you to let your walls down so he could have at you.

Eddie didn’t spend the night with you.

In fact, Eddie practically ran out the door after your extremities were over, and you were left with the aftermath of spinning thoughts and an aching chest. So much for sorry.

The dining room is buzzing with chatter and laughter of excitement— today is the last off day before the final show of the residency— but you’re too in your head to join in on the conversation because Eddie won’t even look at you.

Your throat feels tight, and you spend the majority of breakfast just pushing your food around the plate, and you manage to pull a smile and nod your head when Naomi asks if you’re okay. But fuck, you want to scream.

You should’ve never believed Eddie when he told you he’d change or when he practically spent the entire night worshipping your body and begging for your forgiveness. Eddie didn’t want forgiveness. He just wanted to fuck you, and you should’ve known that from the second he kissed you.

But Eddie’s kisses can tell a hell of a lie, and damn you for falling for them.

You’re spooked when you feel a hand rest on your shoulder, pulling you from your thoughts. It’s Richie, and he peers down at you and gives you a tight-lipped smile as he leans in and lowly speaks, “Can I speak with you outside?”

You nod, dropping your fork onto your plate and quietly rising from your chair. And for the first time today, Eddie looks at you. Your chest tightens, and you think it’s stupid that you’d been upset about this because it’s Eddie for fucks sake. He’s a rockstar, and he surely never made the mistake of presenting himself as if he was anything other than a man who fucks whoever they want and moves on the next day. Eddie’s jaw ticks, he looks away, and you bite your tongue as anger floods your body.

You ignore it as you turn around and follow Richie into the hallway.

You’re hardly paying attention when you both step out of the room, but the slamming of the door is the cue for Richie to start speaking. “Listen, Birdie,” he begins, “You know I adore you. I’m always in your corner, no matter what… But I have to put my boys first.”

It’s concerning, the way Richie is beginning this conversation, and it’s even worse when he can’t seem to look you in the eye for more than five seconds at a time. Your heart rate picks up, and you begin to think maybe…

No, Richie can’t know. There’s no way he’d know, right? Unless if someone told him. One of the band members, or James, or— fuck, there’s too many people that know at this rate. But you didn’t think it would reach Richie.

No, you’re just spinning out. Richie doesn’t know, and this is about something else; it has to be.

You shake your head, brows furrowed as you speak, “I’m not sure I understand.”

Richie glances around the corridor and shifts in his spot, scratching at the back of his neck as he speaks, “Listen, I uh,” he glances at you, and your heart drops because you now know why he’s pulled you aside. 

“I know about you and Eddie.”

————

part nine

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a/n: hiiii, you made it to the end !! IM SORRY FOR ANOTHER CLIFFHANGER FRIENDS, i promise there won't be anymore from here on out (i think hehe), BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS SMUTTY LITTLE PART, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate all and any feedback <3

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn

#LETS GOOOO #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things au #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader #journalist!reader

[powderblueblood]

guys I actually love to be in the middle of a fic then already be formulating not only a sequel but an au for it

#almost famous rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader anyone???? #don’t rob this idea im pissin all over it it’s mine #but im obsessed with the idea of journalist!reader being sent out on assignment to cover the rise of a band #that is so achingly middle of the road save for its charismatic frontman which is the main point of fascination #for the audience at large and for her but as a journalist she’s searching for the Real Story so she has to chip away #at Eddie’s indefatigable persona — and tensions and feelings and jealousy ensue #she finds it harder and harder to do her job and he finds it harder to be around her OR away from her the more she cracks him open #im also a little DRUNK SOOOO

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part seven)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.7k summary: due to an unexpected visit, you're forced to tackle a certain situation head on. maybe now you can get some answers from the rockstar that broke your heart — or maybe your family will just annoy you about it.

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / a little comfort, minor use of pet names, tiny bit of fluff, familial drama — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

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

celebrity skin. masterlist

There is an infamous estate in East Hampton that’s been key to many conversations between your family members.

Grey Gardens was four acres of oceanfront land. 

The prime location had been prone to controversy right from the very beginning, or more accurately, since 1901. Controversies involving the women that owned the estate. Women not so dissimilar to your own grandmother, such as Margaret Bagg Phillips who was challenged for ownership of the land after the passing of her husband — (his brother suspected that she cremated him so that an autopsy couldn’t be performed). 

More notably though, Grey Gardens had at one point been home to Edith Ewing Bouvier Beale, and her daughter, Little Edie. 

Your Nana would often use Big Edie’s martial fall out as an example to never trust a man’s intentions. She’d also use the Beale’s widely publicised story as a warning. People will judge you, especially if your name is already known to some.

Despite the gossip associated with Grey Gardens, the reason for its frequent mention at your family’s dinner table wasn’t because of the vast size of the property, its architectural style, or design. And it wasn’t the scandalous story, or the association with being a recluse. No. For your family, the name signalled an escape. A white flag, of sorts, to end the standoff between two or more people because the talks were going in circles. The mention of Grey Gardens was to allow for reflection since seeing someone else’s point of view, in the heat of the moment, was not easy.

A white flag you were now waving.

“Eddie came to see you?” Val asks in disbelief while she carefully sets a bowl of mashed potatoes down on its designated spot at the family dinner table.

“Grey Gardens,” you mutter, not interested in getting into this conversation.

Unfortunately, your younger sister ignores you, along with the meaning that your family has given to the East Hampton acres of land. She proceeds to press on the matter, rather indelicately, because she’s always been nosy when it comes to your celebrity skin — not out of jealousy, you knew that much, just morbid curiosity, as she’d always say. Normally you don’t mind it. Hers is the only attention you give into because she’s always been your number one fan. This whole situation with Eddie however, well, that you didn’t want to get into. It’s the reason you stayed hidden in your apartment for all those weeks following the breakup.

So you made a promise with yourself: no one has to know that the Corroded Coffin frontman showed up at your door the other night. And by no one, you meant your own family and close circle, since you already told Steve and Eddie’s undoubtedly gone to visit his sister. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, three days with no hitch. Saturday… Well, the tabloids had to go and ruin that day for you and put a hink in your plan to keep this situation underwraps. EDDIE MUNSON SPOTTED IN NEW YORK: the Rockstar plus the Big Apple, it can only mean one thing.

People aren’t stupid. They picked up on the hidden meaning immediately. Understood the illusion presented to them by second-rate journalists who were dreaming of writing about things that matter, but are instead stuck working on puff pieces about people five-times more famous than they’ll ever be. So the gossip train took off. Eddie Munson was in New York City to see you. This time, of course, that was true, but you hated that other people knew about it. Most importantly, you hated that your family knew.

“Did he say why he came?” Val is relentless.

Tension is building up your back, to your shoulder blades. You crack your neck. You’ve never been one to go against family, but you’re maybe about one question away from telling Val to fuck off. Jesus. The intention behind the thought disappears from your mind just as fast as it initially crept up. It would be redundant. She’d just call for mom, the peacemaker. 

And speaking of mom…

“Valentine, can you please gather your siblings? Dinner will be ready in five minutes and I’m pretty sure Jonah is knee-deep in Play-Doh, while Amelia will take about twenty to put down the phone.” 

She always walks into the room like she’s in a rush for something, despite never having anywhere to go outside of school pickups and grocery runs. Yet there’s an elegance there, thought by your Nana, and an aura of warmth and a certain poise that you’ve envied since you were a little girl. An aura that can’t be mimicked or copied. You’ve tried.

“Your sister is going to help me out here,” your mom adds before Val can argue, “The green beans need to be finished, and I need someone to check on the pie because I have to handle the steaks.”

You’re grateful for the distraction, following your mom into the kitchen. The sizzle coming from the oil is soothing, like white noise. You stand in the doorway for a moment, allowing yourself to close your eyes, listening to the hissing as you take in the surrounding smells. Solace. Although it’s brief because your mom is calling your name and she’s again in a rush, opening the oven quite harshly and telling you to look at the pie.

“Where’s dad?” You wonder while doing what she’s requested you to do. The pie is burned at the top, but you don’t tell her, taking it out instead and setting it aside to cool. The oven is off before she even gets a chance to ask what it looks like.

“He’ll be back soon,” she answers simply, “Went to pick up Caroline and your Nana.”

You nod and move onto finishing the green beans before your mom can implore you to do so. She starts whistling. The same tune she always does when cooking — your first number one song. It makes you smile. She’s always told you how proud she was, both of your parents did. Their beautiful girl, their second daughter, grew up to become bigger than the world. That’s plenty of reason for pride. You start to hum along.

For the next ten minutes, five longer than what your mom said dinner would take, you forget all about Eddie Munson showing up at your apartment door. 

-

The banging continues. Eddie's calling your name through the wood that’s separating your two bodies, desperate for your attention. It’s almost like a plea, but that would mean he’s remorseful of something, and if you know Eddie at all — which you think you do — he’s not the remorseful type, considering how often he fucks up.

With a trembling hand, you slide the chain onto the lock and slowly open the door, peeking at the rockstar from between the created gap. Eddie is quick to readjust his position, leaning forward against the frame, so that he can see you better in the dim light of your apartment.

“How did you get past the doorman?”

“I uh… I told him I was your boyfriend.”

You can’t help but scoff. His answer angers you. Enough to want to shut the door back in his face, which you’re about to do when Eddie places his hand between the crack, preventing you from doing anything.

“Just hear me out.”

“Please leave.”

“Sweetheart—”

“No,” you snap, “You… you don’t get to call me that.”

Eddie sighs while dropping his hand, though he doesn’t move much further and his persistence makes it hard for you to just leave him there, sulking in your hallway. 

Motherfucker. 

Despite the resentment you currently feel, and despite not really wanting to talk to him, you briefly close the door to unlatch the chain, then open it again before stepping to the side, allowing him to enter the confines of your apartment because a) you’re an idiot, and b) you’re a stupid fucking idiot.

The rockstar lingers for a moment, glancing between you and the inside of your home, and you think he must be unsure about your sudden change of heart. Frankly, you’re unsure too since you did your best to get over him — a lot of that effort to no avail. You’re mainly unsure though, ‘cause once he steps through the threshold, it will be a lot harder to kick him out.

“Do you want something to drink?” You ask, breaking the rather heavy silence, but you don’t wait for him to answer. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get us some water.”

Eddie nods at your words, slowly, and you leave him there, lingering by the open door before he finally takes that step forward. You disappear into the kitchen under the pretext of hydration, when you’re alone, however, instead of reaching for two glasses, you lean against your fridge as the tears breach through the corners of your eyes. The stone-like facade you put up just moments prior has disappeared the second you allowed yourself to breathe.

Every inch of you is against indulging the Corroded Coffin frontman in whatever conversation he hopes to have with you, hence why you shut the door in his face in the first place. He broke you, a sentence you repeated to yourself like a mantra while spending hours on end in bed instead of living your luxurious life. You’re dreaming of Grey Gardens. The escape that it provides. The white flag you wish to wave in means of avoidance because avoidance is always easier than working through feelings, especially since you’ve been down this road before with Eddie and he just doesn’t seem to change.

Then there’s that voice of reason, closely resembling your mom, telling you that Eddie did come to New York and of all people, he chose to see you. Despite everything that’s happened, despite knowing he most likely wouldn’t be greeted kindly, he still came to see you. That’s gotta count for something, right?

Wrong, considering the timing of his arrival is shortly after your not-so-fake date with one of his closest friends as so carefully planned by Max; who was counting on this very reaction from her brother. She prepared you for it, so you knew damn well that whatever conversation you’re about to have would be far from productive, since, you suspect, this is the reason he’s in the Big Apple to begin with.

And while you’re in the kitchen trying to regain control of your nerves, Eddie is also going crazy.

He didn’t really come here with a clear mission. Honestly, calling Marianne to charter a jet last minute was a pure knee jerk reaction after reading that spread on you and his so called friend, Steve. A night out on the town, featuring his best girl and someone he thought was a best friend. The photo of the two of you was cosy, too close for comfort and too much for poor ol’ Eddie. He wondered how the two of you met. He wondered what you talked about on this date. Did either of you mention his name? 

Then the questions took a turn for slightly more perverse considering your history. 

Did you do more than just hold hands, as depicted in the photo? He wondered if you, as the tens of girls in Hawkins, also thought Harrington was a good kisser. Was he better than Eddie? Did you enjoy kissing him? Fuck— Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. The feeling made him sick. 

That’s when Eddie knew, despite all perceived consequences, he needed to see you.

Your apartment was exactly like he imagined it to be. Big and bright. Eclectic, but with classy furniture that unsurprisingly looked more expensive than anything he’s ever owned. It was carefully arranged to maximise the space and make it look more inviting. 

There was a display of various awards on top of the marble fireplace, most notably a Grammy. Eddie smiles at the statue, then continues to glance around your living room. A gallery wall catches his attention, so he stops his small, self-guided tour in front of it. The photos vary from your magazine covers, to childhood memories. In the middle, there’s a picture of your family and although Eddie’s never met anyone aside from your evil grandmother, from your stories, he knows exactly who everyone is — your parents, Alicia and Brad, with their four daughters, Caroline, Valentine, Amelia, and you, plus the youngest boy, Jonah — and he can’t help but wonder if you told them anything about him. 

He suspects the answer is yes, since why else would you disappear for a few months to Los Angeles, only to come back heartbroken. So the brunette rockstar hates himself even more for putting you in that situation in the first place. He wishes more than anything that he could explain, but the grisly threats made by the very person that’s sitting right in the middle of the family picture, ring in his ears.

That’s how you find him. Staring blankly at the photo frames ahead.

-

Everyone settles at the table, taking their assigned seats, like it’s always been. Mom on one end of the wooden piece of furniture, your dad on the other. The sides see your Nana sitting in between you and your older sister Caroline who’s partner, Jackie, usually takes today’s empty spot. Across sits Valentine, Amelia, and little boy Jonah, who’s always closest to your mom, otherwise he throws a fit.

Nana initiates prayer. Your family has never been overly religious, if at all, but you do believe in thanking whatever higher power may exist for the blessings you’ve each encountered in life: your parents meeting each other when they did and starting the beautiful family your Nana is constantly praying for, Caroline for graduating at the top of her class in medical school and most recently starting her surgical residency at John Hopkins Hospital, Val for her spot at NYU and Amelia for her spot at the top of the cheer pyramid (a sure scholarship ride, when the time comes), and lastly you, for everything that made you. Jonah is the only one that has no idea what’s going on. He’s just happy to see food. 

The potatoes are passed clockwise. That’s when the chaos slowly begins to unfold. 

“Guess who came to see our star,” Val teases. She means no harm, but you just have this feeling that there’s no way this could end well.

“Who?” Caroline asks, focused more on plating her dinner than on actually getting an answer. She’s just being polite, as always. Unwilling to leave her sister hanging.

“A certain dark-haired rockstar.”

“Val—”

But your attempt at a protest is quickly interrupted.

“Oh for the love of everything good,” your Nana exhales rather loudly, “What does that boy want with you now? I thought you left that fiasco behind in Los Angeles, where it belongs.”

“It’s not like I invited him over,” you state, “He just… appeared.” Not entirely a lie because they don’t have to know that the last date you were seen on was carefully orchestrated to get under the rockstar's skin, which is why he came.

“I for one like the thought of you and that boy together,” your mom says, knife cutting into her piece of steak, “There’s something very kind about his face, and you know what I always say about kindness.”

“At the end of the day, that’s all that really matters when it comes to love,” you chime in unison with each of your sisters.

“Exactly.”

“This isn’t about love.” The tone of your Nana’s voice is urging close to displeasement. You look at her, but she’s focused on her plate. If you knew any better, you’d say she was avoiding your gaze. Almost as if she was hiding something.

But you quickly brush the thought away before it can grow into something more. Whatever her stance on the rockstar, and she’s made it very clear on numerous occasions that she wasn’t Eddie’s biggest fan, your Nana was often a lot of talk and little follow through. She didn’t like to get her hands dirty, unless there was a clear benefit to her, or someone in the family. And there was no winning for anyone when it came to the whole situation with Eddie.

“Eddie’s cute,” Amelia says sweetly, taking a forkful of green beans into her mouth. “Like a sexy sort of cute. That bad boy look is definitely working for him.”

“I don’t see it.” Caroline shrugs.

“That’s ‘cause you’re into chicks, not dicks.” Val points out.

“Valentine.” Your dad’s first words around the dinner table are always spoken to reprimand someone else. A man of a few expressions, is what you often described him as. Holly thought it was insanely hot which always grossed you out.

Val clears her throat, understanding that she’s crossed a line with that rather cheeky comment, but she doesn’t apologise. Instead she continues with questions to the initial subject she raised — Eddie coming to see you.

“Did you let him in?” She probes, “Did you guys talk?”

-

Eddie does turn his head as soon as you walk back into the room, sensing your presence like he usually does. He tries to smile, though his mouth refuses cooperation with his brain and instead pursues his lips into a lopsided line, somewhat reminiscent of what he was trying to achieve, but not quite. Not really.

Avoiding more eye contact than absolutely necessary, you place the two glasses of water on the coffee table before standing on the other side of it. Ensuring ample space between you and the Corroded Coffin frontman. A necessary precaution considering how fast you tend to give into his mahogany-coloured eyes.

“Talk.”

It’s simple. Right now, that’s all you can muster.

Eddie clears his throat. Right now, that’s all he can muster.

In the few minutes of rather unbearable silence that follow, you’re forced to come to terms with the fact that Grey Gardens is most definitely not an option. Eddie is actually here, in your living room, for one reason or another, which is another reminder of how the two of you ended up like this in the first place: “I think we made a mistake,” he says a little too bluntly. “I-I don’t think we should have labelled this so soon, and ehm… This is nothing on you, sweetheart. I’m just not the relationship type.”

“Eddie, talk.” You say with a little more conviction. “Because you begged me for a chance to hear you out just mere minutes ago, and now you’re as silent as the dead, so I’m a little confused and getting even more peeved off.”

“Okay,” he breathes finally, “Okay, uhm.”

Running a hand through his crazy locks, Eddie glances briefly at the golden award on your chimney, before settling his gaze on you.

“I-I saw the pictures of you and Steve.” A statement that surprisingly isn’t fueled by anger, or the jealousy he was for sure feeling, but rather by a sadness that he only blamed himself for.

“Right…”

“How did you two meet?”

“At Saks,” you answer, intentionally leaving out the young redhead that was also present, “We bumped into each other and kind of hit it off.”

“Did he say he knew me?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking him all those questions, Eddie? I’ve got nothing to explain to you since we’re no longer together, you made that very clear,” you state. “If it bothers you so much that I was seen out with Steve, then ask the guy that’s supposedly your friend.”

There’s a twinge of guilt that oozes through your veins because if it wasn’t for your agreement to Max’s little plan, you wouldn’t have to witness Eddie’s desperation. And even though you try to remind yourself how hurting the brunette man back is exactly why you agreed to the stupid date in the first place, seeing Eddie’s melancholy expression makes you think it wasn’t really worth it.

“Look, I-I—” You’re about to give in, explain the situation in hopes he’d simply let it go and leave you be. Leave you to finally move on since, at the end of the day, that’s what you really wanted, no, needed to do. 

The phone rings. Interrupting your train of thought along with the conversation. When you answer and it’s Steve, calling to check in since you never called him back, like you promised you would, the guilt bubble bursts and bleeds.

“Eddie’s here,” you simply state into the receiver, your back now to the Corroded Coffin frontman as he continues to stare at your frame. 

“Oh,” Steve sighs, “Do you need me to come over? Diffuse the situation?”

Even though Harrington can’t see you, you shake your head. “No, that’s okay. I’m okay,” you affirm and for the first time that night, smile. Albeit slightly. “Thank you anyway, and ehm, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Deal.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

When you shift in your spot to once again look at Eddie, his expression is no longer one of dejection. Instead it’s replaced by the look you knew you were bound to be at the receiving end of at some point during this night — resentment.

“So you call each other goodnight after just one date, huh?”

Bitter, the tone of his voice. Like a child at a playground who was forced to share his favourite toy. It causes you to roll your eyes ‘cause you’re once again reminded of the person everyone warned you Eddie is: a self-serving asshole. And to say you weren’t expecting a drop of the broken facade at some point would be a lie. 

“It’s really nothing to you,” you state back, crossing your arms under your bust, no longer wanting to explain how this all came about. “Now, if all you came here for is to question me about my date, I guess you can leave ‘cause I’ve got nothing else to tell you, Eddie. It’s frankly none of your business and I once again remind, that you made sure of that.”

Eddie scoffs, but doesn’t say anything else, not even a stupid goodbye, or see you around. He simply brushes past you and slams the front door shut. Leaving you all alone with your thoughts, yet again.

The sudden silence is overbearing.

You think of Grey Gardens. Inside, a dust-covered grand piano. Untouched and unplayed for many years. You think of the songs that never made it past the first key, wasted because of the hosts decision to lock all doors. Self-preservation. Recluse, like Val recently called you.

And a recluse is the last thing you want to be again.

-

Jonah is making a mess. He’s playing with his dinner, potatoes everywhere but the places they’re supposed to be. Your mom is trying to calm him down. Unfortunately the further she bargains for peace, the more excited he gets. He’s laughing now. Clearly enjoying himself, along with the attention he’s getting.

Mom’s voice is calm while she repeats his name. Amelia can be heard from the kitchen, screeching that your brother got his dinner all over her new jeans and the stain won’t come out. Caroline is shouting back from her seat, giving your youngest sister cleaning tips she’s picked up at the hospital. Your Nana and Val have gotten into an argument over the parenting style you were all raised with (Valentine protecting your mom, while your Nana remains ever the scrutinizer).

You’re grateful that for a few minutes, everyone is focused on your brother.

Then Jonah starts crying. It’s gotten too loud for his tiny ears. He’s no longer enjoying the minor disruption he’s caused, he just doesn’t know how to apologise for it, so he opts to let the floodgates open. Watching him, you think how lucky it must be to just cry when things get tough. How freeing it must be to not keep shit in until it gets too much.

When his screams get louder, your mom glances at your dad, who understands without a single spoken word that he can no longer just observe. So your dad stands. He walks around the table until he’s by Jonah’s chair, lifting him up in one swift movement.

“It’s alright, my man.”

With that, they’re gone. The cries soon fade. When Amelia sits back down, a wet patch on her jeans, it’s quiet around the table again. Your mom asks for the empty plates, a smile on her face as if the last ten minutes didn’t just flutter her completely. One by one they’re passed to her without a word. When she stands, Caroline follows by picking up the bowls with leftover mash and beans.

“So are you gonna see him again?” Amelia asks. Continuing the previous topic because if she’s engaged in conversation, then mom won’t ask for her help.

“Who?”

“Eddie, you dingus.”

You grimace. “I don’t know.”

That apparently was not the right answer because your Nana jumps back in with nothing but judgement in her tone of voice.

“Honey, do you really want to put yourself through more heartbreak?” She queries, “Because I’ve told you before that boys like that don’t change their ways.”

“Well, I wouldn’t really know if they change or not, since I wasn’t exactly privy to the circumstances surrounding the demise of my and Eddie’s relationship in the first place.” You don’t mean to snap, but that’s exactly what happens. “Now, does the concept of Grey Gardens not apply anymore, because if so, I must’ve missed that family meeting.”

You walk away from the table next. Sick of answering questions. Sick of this conversation. Sure, this was your family, but there were things you wanted to keep private. Especially things relating to Eddie since you were still only trying to figure everything out yourself. 

The conversation with Eddie didn’t amount to much. Without allowing yourself to second guess the feeling in your gut, you rushed after the rockstar the night he walked out of your apartment. There was a lot going through your mind, but one thing was a little more clear, he wasn’t going to win. Eddie Munson was not going to be the one to play victim in this situation since he’s the person that’s caused this crazy domino effect. He won’t turn you into a fucking recluse again.

Unfortunately he’s gone by the time you make it to the lobby. You don’t get a chance to confront him then and you haven’t heard from him since. You’re not even sure if he’s still in New York — a feeling creeping through you screams that he is, but you can’t be sure.

The line rings once, twice. Then a jovial voice picks up.

“Mayfield residence.”

You clear your throat. “Hey, Max, it’s uh… it’s me.”

“My favourite popstar,” Red cheers, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Is Eddie there? Or do you maybe know what hotel he’s staying at?”

When Max doesn’t immediately answer, you think you fucked up by calling. Dumb idea, dumb idea, dumb, dumb, dumb. Sucking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you proceed to chew on it nervously, about to tell her to forget you asked, forget you called. But then a voice flows through the receiver and it doesn’t belong to Max.

“Heard you’re looking for me, sweetheart.”

Eddie.

“Have you ever been to Coney Island?”

-

The Wonder Wheel was an attraction to hundreds, if not thousands, locals and tourists. A glistening staple of the peninsular neighbourhood. You could never hope to see it during the day anymore. Not since your fame skyrocketed, now on par with the amusement park. At night however, when the sun went down and the workers finished their shifts, well, that was a different story.

The watch strapped to your wrist displayed two in the morning as you walked towards the metal gate with a rather hesitant Eddie by your side. He’s unsure why you called, unsure of why you invited him out here after making it pretty clear the other night that you didn’t want to talk to him. What changed?

“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tony was the security guard, about four years shy of retirement. Working the Wheel grounds since he was a kid, following his dad who’d done the job before. A true New York family affair. You befriended him a long time ago now. 

“I thought I’d seen the last of you, kid.”

“Back to my roots now. It’s nice to hear I’ve been missed,” you say as Tony opens the gate for you without question. 

“One hour,” the older man states, like he’s done many times before, only briefly glancing back at the rockstar that’s accompanying you. Thankfully, he chooses not to comment.

“One hour,” you repeat with a nod and a smile.

Underneath the Wonder Wheel is where you hope to find some peace in this whole situation. Eddie’s still hesitant, and a little confused, especially when you lay flat on your back on the dirty ground to stare upon the metalworks of the world famous attraction. He doesn’t question you though, just accepts that to continue any sort of conversation, he’s going to have to join you.

There’s a half-a-beat of silence. Just the wind, the water, and some crickets. You exhale slowly, eyes closed momentarily because this was one of your safe spaces and now you might’ve ruined it by bringing your ex.

A sigh escapes your lips.

“Eddie, why did you really come to New York?” You ask without looking at him.

When the rockstar doesn’t immediately answer, a glimmer of hope for what you two lost, oozes through you. It’s foolish, yes, you know that. Your Nana would even call you stupid for holding onto something — someone — that has hurt you repeatedly. Matter of fact, she damn nearly has earlier this evening. But it’s Eddie, you tell yourself. He’s charming, but not in a try-hard way. The charm comes naturally to him. He’s funny. He’s wicked smart. And underneath that cold-ish exterior, he’s unbelievably kind (as your mom suspected). You learned this about him. Which is why it hurt so much when he ended things so casually. It seemed uncharacteristic to the Eddie Munson you’ve gotten to know, and possibly even love.

He seemingly came to ask about your date with Steve, as his little sister predicted he would. Just like she planned for. At first, you thought that too ‘cause what other reason would there be to bring him all the way out here after months of no contact. What other reason, except for just seeing you.

“I think I told you once that wherever I go, solo or with the band, I never really set foot outside of whatever hotel they have me staying in, or whatever studio I have scheduled interviews and press in, venture from whatever show I have.”

“Your exact words were: they keep me prisoner,” you say through a smile.

Eddie laughs briefly at the memory. “Well, sweetheart, it’s true. Fame overall in a way is like a prison. Do you ever feel that way?”

“That’s one way to not answer my question,” you tease, nudging his side slightly. “But I guess, yeah. Can’t go anywhere without Hank out of fear some randomer will come up to me with ill intentions, or I’ll end up in the papers again and my ex-whatever will fly across the country to confront me about it.”

You look at him then, a smile circling your lips. Eddie does the same. His brown eyes scan your own for a moment, contemplating the comment you just made.

“We kinda get what we signed up for though, no?” You add. “Seems ungrateful to complain.”

Eddie nods. He licks his lips before looking back up at the sky above, spotty between the metal of the wheel, but beautiful nonetheless. Different from Los Angeles. Different from Hawkins. Reminiscent of the people he’s met here. Reminiscent of you which makes it perhaps the most perfect night sky he’s ever seen.

“I came ‘cause I wanted to see you.”

He exhales.

“When everything went down… I thought I was doing the right thing, sweetheart. I thought I was protecting you from the hell I know dating me can become,” Eddie explains, “I know that’s not an excuse and if it was, it’d be a fucking lame one, but people that are close to me get hurt. That’s just the honest truth.”

“People like Chrissy Cunningham.”

Eddie’s head snaps back in your direction. He’s shocked, that’s for sure. How do you know that name? Did Steve tell you? Surely not without giving Eddie a heads up first. That’s the least Harrington could do after going on a very public date with his ex-girlfriend.

Quick to notice his surprise at the mention of Chrissy’s name, you realise the only way to get the truth, is to be honest yourself.

“Eddie, there’s something you should know about my first run-in with Steve.”

“Did he tell you about Chrissy?” The question is quiet, almost as if the rockstar is afraid to ask it. He’s clearly nervous and it goes well beyond you just knowing about Chrissy.

“Max told me.”

“What?”

You sigh, glancing back up at the metal and sky above.

“She was with Steve that day at Saks. We, uh, we didn’t really talk then. We didn’t even introduce ourselves ‘cause I was with Val who was trying on dresses for this event,” you tell him, then quickly look at him again.

“Max left a note with Hank. It was her address, she wanted to meet me.”

“You met with my sister? I was just with her. Why didn’t she tell me that?”

“I guess maybe she wanted me to be the one to tell you, I don’t know.” You shrug before continuing, “Eddie, she told me how you were seemingly crazy about me, so to her, it didn’t make sense that you suddenly weren’t. All she really wanted was to get your attention, get you to talk to her at least.” 

You pause. “Don’t be mad at her please.”

“Why would I be mad at her?”

“Because she’s the one who organised that date with Steve,” you answer. “It was fake, Eds. All for show, to get under your skin.”

He stares at you. Blinking as the information settles. Betrayal isn’t exactly the word he’d use to describe what he was now feeling. Lord knows he deserved it ‘cause there’s no denying he’d been acting like a complete prick towards everyone around him, including little Red who he’s supposed to always be honest with.

So the date was fake. That gave Eddie some solace. You weren’t really going to start dating one of his closest friends, even if the friend in question is calling you goodnight after said fake date. Then again, that’s just Steve the King Harrington, always the gentleman.

One thing remained unanswered, however. How much do you know of Chrissy?

“I’m not mad,” Eddie says eventually. “It actually makes a lot more sense now. Steve’s a good guy.”

“Not the type of guy to go out with his friends' ex,” you tease lightly.

The brunette smirks. “Still a dickhead.”

That makes you laugh. And as the sound settles, a sound Eddie would only describe as angelic, it makes the brunette rockstar smile a little wider. He didn’t think he’d ever be so lucky to hear your laughter again. He especially didn’t think he'd be the one to make you spur the emotion, not after what he’s done and how he’s treated you. But here the two of you are. Your laughter has faded, but the smile on your face remains.

“Well, I’m glad you’re not mad I went on a date with that dickhead,” you say honestly.

“Tsk. I’m not mad at Red,” he clarifies with a smug smile, “Never said anything about you, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes. “May I remind you that you have lost all right to be mad at me for seeing other people when you’re the one that ended things?”

It’s meant to come off lighthearted, but you can’t hide the hurt behind your words. There’s a pain there. One that you’ve forgotten about for the last twenty-or-so minutes because things are easy with Eddie. They align. The imperfect dots that represent your life are pulled together by an invisible string when the rockstar’s around. He somehow manages to make you feel normal and you live to experience a level of normalcy. Even if he hurt you. Twice.

“Tell me about Chrissy,” you change the subject. Steer your thoughts in a different direction.

Eddie avoids eye contact. He lifts one of his arms, flicking the piece of metal and listening to it echo in the night. A lame effort to buy some time before answering you because now that his initial fear of someone else telling you about Chrissy has been squashed by your not-so-simple request, he needs to figure out a way to avoid answering. The threat your grandmother has made at that godforsaken party remains fresh in the rockstars mind: “And Eddie,” she continues, “I wouldn’t tell her about this conversation, and I also wouldn’t be so brave to tell her about Chrissy yourself, because with a snap of my finger, the whole world will know. Then you gotta ask yourself, what’s more important? Your happiness, her happiness, or the careers you both worked extremely hard for.”

He swallows his breath before glancing back at you once again.

“There’s nothing to say.”

It’s simple. Can be perceived as vague ‘cause someone is avoiding the answer, but Eddie hopes you’ll just take it as him not wanting to talk about an ex-girlfriend. Not that Chrissy was his ex, but you didn’t really know that.

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing at all,” he lies.

-

There are clear moments that define a person's life and they’re not as basic as one would believe: first words, steps, tantrums, day of school, first friends, first fallouts, fight, crush, kiss, first anything — the list goes on, and on, and on. No. These definitive moments are a lot more hazy. Often remain unclear until you find yourself in therapy, spewing your feelings to someone who’s paid to listen, or when you’re black-out drunk and what’s bothering you deep inside is now between you and some stranger you just met in a nightclub bathroom.

Your list of moments is short and yet, somehow, it features Eddie’s name multiple times. In any other reality, that would be almost poetic. As if some higher power considered the two of you to be bound together. In this reality however, it was almost cruel. You had built a life bigger than you ever dreamed possible, and yet your existence is defined by the rockstar. 

Almost cruel.

“There’s a place in the Hamptons. Grey Gardens it’s called. I like to walk by it whenever I’m in the area, which in recent years obviously isn’t often, but still… There’s a certain solace about the property and despite its rather barmy history, my family uses Grey Gardens as a way to move past certain topics without a larger fight.”

The sand beneath you is coarse yet soft at the same time. You run your fingers through it, feeling every individual granule, while your gaze is fixated on the dark waters ahead. Eddie watches you. His arm is pressed against yours. He’s got no idea what you’re talking about, but he’s hooked on every word. As always.

“When you showed up at my door the other night, Grey Gardens is what I thought of,” you admit, “Truth be told, as angry as I was at you for breaking up with me like that, when I saw you, the last thing I wanted was any sort of confrontation.”

“I didn’t come here to argue,” Eddie clarifies.

“I know, Eds.”

There’s a brief moment of silence during which you wrap your arms around your knees and tilt your head to look at him, offering the rockstar a small smile.

“I believe you came ‘cause you regret your decision.”

Eddie looks away, bottom lip now between his teeth. He does so because you’re right, but unfortunately he can’t admit that out loud. He can’t say anything that’s on his mind because he’s aware of the wider implications to both of your careers.

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

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

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie, @spideyanakin-interacts , @rogers-sweatbands , @mimsie95 , @mmunson86

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[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part seventeen

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact!, slight angst, mentions of unrequited feelings, revealing photoshoots, drugs, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of throwing up, allusion to depression and eating disorders, (reader struggles to eat)

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x fem!rockstar!reader | Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Chapter summary: Things seem to be going better when suddenly everything changes.

Word count: 7k

Author's note: @mysticmunson , thank you for the idea with the photoshoot, I could finally use it!

stranger things masterlist | series masterlist

-

The concert was over and you were getting ready to leave the venue when you were informed about the crowd of journalists and paparazzis outside, waiting for a chance to talk to you, more like harassing you with their disrespectful questions. 

Rob didn’t want to let you go out there, he was hoping that you could use the back entrance but apparently they have found their way there as well, it doesn’t matter which entrance you will use, they will find a way to get to you anyways, at some point. 

He told you to wait, at least until some of them give up, you don’t mind and neither do the others. 

You sit on the couch, squished between Eddie and Steve. The three of you watch Robin in amusement, her back is pressed against the wall as your friend Jamie flirts with her like her.

“Have you ever seen her this red?” 

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “nope, she must be really into her.” 

Eddie laughs, his arm resting on the back of the couch, his fingertips grazing your skin softly, “now you got something to tease her with.” 

You slap his shoulder lightly, “leave the poor girl alone, she’s falling in love right now. I think you might have to give up your hotel room for the night though,” you smirk as you watch Robin eye your friend up and down, biting her lip as she tugs her hair behind her ear. 

Steve’s eyes widen, “oh shit.” 

“You can stay with Wayne but I have to warn you, he snores like a bear,” Eddie chuckles, causing Steve to groan. 

You snort at Steve’s demise, he throws his head back and rolls his eyes. 

“Or you can stay with us,” you shrug. 

“Us?” Steve mumbles. 

“Mhmm, Eddie and I are always roommates,” you giggle.

Eddie nudges your shoulder, chuckling at your choice of words, “roommates huh?” 

You nod, “you don’t mind adding another for the night, right? It’s not like you haven’t had sleepovers before,” you smirk as you give them both a look, “I always wanted to have a sleepover with two dudes.” 

Steve blushes, coughing, he runs his fingers through his hair as he straightens up, while Eddie shakes his head at you with a smirk on his face. 

You look away from them, glancing at Robin again, “aw, look at those heart eyes.” 

“She’s not the only one who has those,” Gareth grins as he abandons his conversation with Frankie, who gladly joins in on his teasing. 

“Yeah, I agree with Gareth,” she smirks as she glances at Eddie and Steve before her eyes meet yours and she wiggles her brows at you, “one already got his new years kiss.” 

You roll your eyes at her, shaking your head as you look down at your drink with a small smile on your face. 

Eddie didn’t exactly get a kiss, only one on the corner of his mouth. That was enough to make the crowd cheer for you, and Eddie grinned at you like crazy, it was cute but it wasn’t a real kiss. 

Eddie glances at you, smiling when he sees the flustered look on your face. 

“You should do that again in front of the journalists and the paparazzis,” Gareth says, grinning at you.

Frankie’s eyes widen at his words, she slaps his shoulder, “yes! Actually, you should totally give them something else to talk about.” 

“Like what?” 

The smug look on her face should be enough for you to know that she will suggest something that has to do with the two men by your side. 

“Give your two lovers a kiss when you leave the venue.” 

Steve’s eyes widen and his cheeks flush red at your friend’s words, though he can’t suppress the smile. 

Eddie tilts his head as he thinks about her words, opening his mind to the idea. He knows that the press can get easily distracted by other and new ‘scandals’, maybe that will distract them enough to forget about that damn article.

“You should strive on chaos, babe,” she says, “do shit that will overwhelm them to the point where they won’t even come after you anymore.”

“You really think that could work?” You ask, looking skeptical. 

She shrugs, “you should try but keep it legal of course, no… drugs and shit, of course.” 

“Yeah, no,” you mumble, shaking your head, “you know I thought that minding my own business and ignoring them could work but that… sounds more fun,” you smirk. 

Eddie turns to look at you, raising his brows, “fun, huh?” 

You nod, “yeah, what do you say?” 

Eddie looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Steve’s who already smirks at him. He shrugs at him, he is obviously open to the idea of kissing you, why wouldn’t he be? 

Maybe he should be bothered by it but after all your conversations and the reassurance he got from you, he has no reason to feel scared or jealous. Steve isn’t some guy, he’s just Steve, his best friend.

Eddie looks back at you, a smirk tugging at his lips, “I say, let’s do it.” 

While Gareth and Frankie were prepared for your little plan, the rest of your friends had no idea what you were about to do. You were glad that Wayne left a few minutes before you though, you don’t want to give that poor man a heart attack. 

Eddie is the first to step out into the cold, instantly shielding his eyes from the bright flashing lights, cringing at the loud noises, the screaming fans and the journalists who are yelling their questions out. He ignores them, waving at his fans instead and holding your hand tightly as you step out after him, drowning out all the voices, ignoring the prying eyes and any mentions of your dad or your supposedly drug addiction. 

You keep a smile on your face, one that gets even brighter when you feel Steve’s hand on the small of your back, you have to suppress the grin that tugs at your lips. He looks down at you with a smile on his face as he kisses your temple. Eddie chuckles to himself when the flashing lights get even brighter and the screams get louder. 

To add the cherry on top, Eddie turns around before stepping on the tour bus, he grabs your face and after making sure that you are really on board with it, he leans down and presses his lips against yours, kissing you softly. 

It’s more of a long peck, wanting to save a real kiss for a more special moment. 

Gareth and Frankie giggle and high five each other while the rest of your friends stare at you in shock. 

“What the hell are they doing?” Rob mumbles, putting his hands on his hips as he stares at the three of you. 

Gareth smirks, “giving them something to work with.”��

-

The three of you stumble into the room in laughter, still giggling about what you did before, even after Rob’s scolding, you were still enjoying yourselves. 

“Have you seen their faces?” Eddie laughs, leaning against the door after closing it. 

Steve chuckles at the two of you, watching the way you lean against Eddie as you look up at him with a grin on your face, “they’ll definitely have something to talk about now.” 

“Yeah and I’m finally gonna be famous,” Steve jokes, “although, your fans are probably gonna hate me.” 

He throws his jacket off, placing it on the chair next to the table. You turn around to face him, taking your shoes and jacket off as well, “who could ever hate such a pretty face,” you tease, patting his cheek softly. 

Eddie chuckles behind you, “all your little fanboys will hate him, sweetheart.” 

“Well, he wasn’t the one who kissed me on the lips,” you say, “it was you.”

“Yeah, maybe they’ll hate you now, dude.” 

“That would be criminal, I’ve known her before they even knew about her,” Eddie says, shaking his head. 

“And I’ve known you way before any of those groupies knew you, yet they probably hate me for kissing their dream man.” 

He couldn’t care less about groupies.

Eddie smirks, “am I not your dream man?” 

“In your dreams,” you grin but you both know damn well that he is in fact your dream man. You look away from him, giggling at the smile on his face, he follows you with his eyes as you bend down to retrieve something from your suitcase, “I’ll be right back, gotta take a shower,” you say as you make your way to the bathroom, “no funny business,” you tease as you look between them.

They both chuckle.

“What did you tell her?” Steve asks after you close the door behind you. 

“What do you mean?” 

Steve shrugs, hating the way he blushes again, he turns away from Eddie and approaches the large windows that look over the city. 

“She’s been making comments about us and smirking this whole time.” 

“Oh,” Eddie laughs, scratching the back of his neck, “well, just stuff we did before..” 

“Ah,” Steve nods. 

“Is that okay?” 

He furrows his brows, nodding again, “yeah sure, I was just wondering.” 

“Alright,” Eddie mumbles. 

He kicks his shoes off and takes his leather jacket off, throwing it on the couch before he makes his way over to the large bed, sitting down, he yawns as he lets his body fall into the soft cushions, the exhaustion from this day catching up to him. 

He looks up at the ceiling, listening to the shower running, he glances at Steve who looks over at him when he feels Eddie’s eyes on him. 

“You’re gonna stand there all night?” Eddie chuckles. 

Steve shakes his head, looking around the room, he eyes the empty spot on the bed before he looks over at the couch, settling for that, for now. 

“I don’t bite,” Eddie grins at him. 

“Yes you do,” Steve snorts, looking into his eyes, he suddenly finds himself reminiscing. He remembers the nights at the hideout when they had just become friends. The music Corroded Coffin played back then, wasn’t exactly Steve’s style but he still came to support his friend, eventually it grew on him. 

He would be there every Tuesday, watching Eddie play. And as they got closer, he was one of the people who told him to go for it, move to LA and try his luck, he even offered to lend him some money, he would do anything to help him get out of a town that only ever hurt him. 

Sure, he missed him, he still does but it’s nice to know that his friend made it, that he not only made his dream come true but he also found you and while things between the two of you have gone majorly wrong for some time, he knows that it can still be fixed, that you can both heal together. 

Eddie had already changed, he became much more confident, he is more self assured than he was before. His struggles are still there but instead of drowning them in weed and alcohol, he has found a much healthier alternative.

He tries to do better, for you and for himself. 

“Hey Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you.” 

Eddie’s brows knit together, he pushes himself up, looking into Steve’s eyes. 

“I’m really proud of you, man. You made it, you made your dreams come true and you found the girl. You’re living the life, Eds.”

His words come from his heart, they are nothing but genuine. Steve couldn’t be more happy. 

“That means a lot to me, man.” 

Eddie was always a bit emotional, tears always welled up in his eyes easily, his father always made him feel weak for crying, ‘men don’t cry’. It’s bullshit and luckily, Eddie always knew that. He never listened to the things his father told him, he wasn’t exactly a great example anyways. He never lived by the things he tries to teach him, he wanted to be nothing like him. 

“Don’t cry, dude,” Steve chuckles, though his eyes soften at the tears in Eddie’s eyes. 

Eddie scoffs, raising his hands up to his face, he quickly wipes those tears away and chuckles, “who’s crying? Me? Never,” he jokes. 

He gets up, walking towards his friend. Steve rises to his feet as well, almost instinctively opening his arms, embracing his best friend. 

Eddie wraps his arms around him, hugging him tightly. 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

Your voice makes them both pull away from each other, they turn to look at you, seeing the smirk on your face makes them both blush, “don’t mind me, I can totally go hang out with Frankie and Gareth right now–” 

“You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles. His heart flutters, you’re wearing his shirt again. 

“Okay,” you shrug, “you better get in the shower, I’m not sleeping next to your sweaty ass.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, patting Steve on the back, he steps away from him, winking at you as he reaches for some clean clothes in his suitcase. 

Once Eddie locks himself in the bathroom, you turn to Steve, “come here,” you mumble, patting the spot next to you after getting under the covers, “or would you prefer to sleep in the middle so you can snuggle Eddie at night?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, chuckling, “no, I’d rather snuggle you.” 

“Oh yeah?” 

He nods, grinning at you as he takes his sweater off, folding it neatly on the couch, his jeans following. 

“So the things you said about the threesome were bullshit then?” 

You adjust the pillows behind you, making yourself more comfortable, “huh?” 

“You know, at the trailer, that night, you said that you had done this before, with two guys.” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“Come on,” he mumbles, tilting his head, he eyes you with a small smile on his face, “earlier, you said that you always wanted to have a sleepover with two dudes.” 

You chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t sleep over when we fucked,” you lie, shrugging. 

“You’re full of shit, honey,” he chuckles as he reaches for the water bottle on the table, opening the cap, “I know when you lie,” he smirks before he drinks the water.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “you’re like a human lie detector, sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?” 

You nod, watching as he gets under the sheets next to you. 

“Yeah, you don’t read the others as well as you read me, I don’t know why.” 

Steve smiles, eyes falling to the necklace he gave you, “it’s because I pay attention to you.” 

You smile at him. 

“Yeah,” you whisper, giving his hand a squeeze, “you really do.”

You both fall silent, getting comfortable on the large bed, you turn on the TV the way you do every night before you go to sleep. 

You think about Frankie’s words, when she pointed out the looks that Steve threw at Eddie. 

“Hey Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

You move to your side, placing your elbow on the pillow and leaning your head against your hand. 

“Eddie told me about what happened between you two,” you say, taking in the blush that quickly takes over his face, “before Chrissy, I mean.” 

“Oh,” he whispers. 

“I mean, I kind of expected it already, you know?” 

“W-Why?” 

“Because of the kiss,” you shrug, “that night at the trailer.” 

You thought back to that many times and a part of you, couldn’t help but wonder what things would be like if you didn’t storm out, if you didn’t overthink and ruin the moment for both yourself and them. 

“It just looked too natural, like you have done it before.”

He nods, smiling shyly, “well, yeah we did.” 

“I know that now,” you chuckle, “but uh– can I ask you something more serious?”

He nods, “yeah, of course.” 

“Did you– do you like him? I mean as more than a friend?” 

His eyes widen and he sucks in a sharp breath, he blinks and for a moment, he just silently stares at you. 

“I liked Eddie,” he admits, the lingering sadness in his eyes makes you frown, “but uh, I wasn’t really aware of my feelings back then– well, I was but I wasn’t very acceptive of them. I knew we would never work out so I never tried anything. We were close, we did things together that I certainly wouldn’t do with other friends but he never showed me that he would actually want anything more than that and I was clearly too scared to make a move.”

“Oh..”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, giving you a small smile, “it’s whatever, it’s in the past. But I was kinda heartbroken when he told me about his date with Chrissy,” he chuckles.

“Shit,” you breathe, “he’s an idiot.” 

At that Steve laughs, laying back, he looks at the ceiling as he puts his hand on his forehead, “unfortunately, I have to agree.” 

“You would’ve been so hot together,” you giggle, “wait– you were Eddie’s first groupie!” 

Steve laughs at you, throwing a pillow at you, “shut up!” 

Eddie settles in on the other side of you after his shower, eying you both suspiciously when you keep on giggling. He shakes his head at you before he snuggles up to you, not even minding his friend laying on your other side. 

As you lay here between two people that mean everything to you, you realize that things aren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Your friends here, they came here just for you. Steve is here, his presence calms you and most importantly, you have him. 

After all the awful moments in the past few weeks, after thinking that this hell would never end, you finally feel somewhat at peace. The press and the prying people will never make your life easy, they will always throw rocks your way, trying to get you to fall. But you won’t. They can write stories about you, they can make up lies and point their fingers at you and try to make you feel miserable but it won’t happen because why should it matter what they say? Why should you worry about what meaningless people say and think of you? 

As you looked into the crowd tonight, you realized that the people, the ones that came for the band and for you, still looked at you the same, they still cheered for you, they still smiled at you when you held out your hand for them to take. 

Your friends, your family is still here and they will be here because the right ones, they always stay, no matter what and the ones that don’t are simply not meant to stay. 

Eddie squeezes your hand and he smiles at you when you turn to face him. A feeling of hope rushes through you and suddenly you know that everything will be okay. 

Steve sighs behind you, Eddie looks over at him, mumbling something to the man on the other side of you.

For some reason it feels normal to lay here between them both, it makes you giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve snorts, eyes flashing with amusement as he looks down at you. 

You shake your head, still laughing. 

“What’s up with you, smiley?” Eddie asks. 

“Nothing,” you chuckle as you throw your head back, looking up at the ceiling, “it’s just.. funny.” 

“What is?” Steve asks, furrowing his brows. 

“Us. We all kissed and you know,” you pause as you take a deep breath, “and now we’re laying here, together. Sleepover, Two dudes and a girl,” you giggle. 

“Sounds like the title of a bad porn movie,” Eddie chuckles in amusement. 

“It does.” 

“We might have one of those at Family Video,” Steve says. 

“Hmm, maybe we should give it a different title then,” Eddie murmurs as he scrunches his face up. 

“What about, two rockstars and the groupie,” you giggle, wiggling your brows at Steve. 

Steve’s shoulders shake, he looks at you, nodding, “yeah, that’s perfect.” 

“I mean isn��t that accurate,” Eddie shrugs, smirking at his friend, “you did kiss two rockstars before.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “you weren’t a rockstar back then, Eddie.”

He almost looks offended at his words, putting his hand on his chest as he shakes his head, a few drops of water landing on your skin from his wet hair, “I was born a rockstar,” he pauses, “just like you,” he grins as he taps your nose. 

Your giggle makes his heart flutter, he looks down at you with a happy look in his eyes, one that makes Steve smile as he watches the two of you with a softened gaze. 

“Hey, maybe we should call one of the journalists, tell them to use that title when they put us on the cover of some gossip magazine.” 

“You know what else we should do?” 

“What?” Both men ask as they look at you with curious eyes. 

“We should get drunk.” 

Eddie smirks. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to get drunk before another long day ahead but you couldn’t care less this night. It would be the one last with Steve, for now. You wanted to make the best of it. 

The mini bar didn’t offer much alcohol but enough to get you all tipsy before you ended up ordering more along with some food. 

You watched some shitty horror movie, played a game of never have I ever and snapped some pictures with your polaroid. You laughed together and enjoyed the night and when you woke up the next morning, tangled in the sheet next to the both of them, you couldn’t help but smile. 

You made more memories, ones that healed you a little more. 

Your friend had of course teased you when you all met up for breakfast later but you didn’t mind. 

It was one of the best nights of your life. 

You hated saying goodbye to Steve, again but he promised to come to Los Angeles when the tour is over.

-

January 17th, 1989

It’s been a while since anyone wrote anything here. A lot has happened but things are going well. The paparazzis are dicks but what is new? I’m having a photoshoot tomorrow :) -y/n.

Eddie stares at you wide eyed, he is practically drooling as he watches you bend over in another one of the skimpy outfits they have put you in. 

“Yes, just like that!” The photographer, Phil, yells. “Give us more, girl.” 

If Phil wasn’t gay, he would be getting a punch in his nose right now. Eddie rolls his eyes at the assistant who is clearly undressing you with his eyes right now, if he keeps looking at you like that, he will actually get a punch in his stupid face. 

“Dude, are you still there?” Steve’s voice sounds through the receiver. 

“Yeah… Yeah, shit.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, no– I mean yes,” Eddie stammers as his cheeks grow red. 

The leather skirt rides up your thighs, exposing the black lace underneath it, you run your hand down your body as you lean back slightly, looking into the camera seductively. 

Phil cheers you on, snapping more pictures of you before he tells you to change into your next outfit. He snaps at his assistant, “get me that male model– what’s his name again? Uh, doesn’t matter, just bring him in.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops, eyes flashing with jealousy. Male Model? 

“Did he just say male model?” Steve gasps. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, “I’m gonna kick his ass. You should see the stupid outfits they make her wear.” 

Steve laughs, “are you having a hard time over there, Eddie?” 

He rolls his eyes, “actually yeah.” 

You rush back, leaving the dressing room, you’re pulling at the corset, tugging it up higher to hide your chest more.

“What the fuck–” Eddie gasps, staring at you like a deer caught in headlights. He barely even holds the receiver. 

He knew about this magazine, about what kinds of outfits you would be wearing, still he didn’t expect it to get more and more revealing. 

The corset hugs your waist and your chest tightly, the tiny little skirt does absolutely nothing to cover your ass and of course, they made you wear a fucking thong. The stockings on your legs and the high heels make you look dangerous. 

Eddie blinks in disbelief, you look hot and so sexy. He swallows, his cheeks heat up and his stomach flutters. 

“She looks so–” 

The male model walks in, wearing nothing but jeans and a leather jacket. The moment his eyes land on you, he smiles, waving at you. 

“What a fucking prick,” Eddie mumbles, eyes flashing with anger. 

“Who? The male model?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, watching as you settle on the loveseat. 

“Dude if you don’t do that photoshoot with her, I’m gonna catch the next flight there and kick your ass.” 

Eddie frowns, “you think I should?” 

“Of course!” 

“Okay… yeah, I should,” he stammers as he watches Phil still talking to the man, “I’ll call you later.”

Eddie slams the receiver back in place and rushes towards Phil, ignoring the curious look on your face. 

“Hey uh–, Phil?” 

The snarky man holds his hand up in front of his face, “I’m talking,” he snaps, without even turning around to look at him. 

“Yeah well, so am I,” Eddie snaps back, “you don’t need that dude, I’ll do the shoot with her.” 

You raise your brows in surprise, suppressing a smirk. 

Phil raises his brows, turning around to look at the rockstar, he chuckles, “you think you can just come here and do whatever you want?” 

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and nods, “yeah, I can,” Eddie says confidently, “you think anyone wants to see this– this jock looking prick?” Eddie mumbles pointing to the guy in front of him, “they don’t, they wanna see two rockstars.” 

“Yeah Phil, don’t you read the gossip magazines?” You smirk, “they’re crazy about Eddie.” 

The older man sighs, “yeah whatever, get changed, rockstar,” he snaps before he turns to the model, “and you get out of here.” 

Eddie winks at you before Phil’s assistant leads Eddie to the dressing room. 

It only takes him ten minutes until he comes back with a new outfit and his hair curlier than before. A smug look on his face as he walks towards you. You chuckle to yourself, the jealous and angry look in his eyes is now replaced by the satisfied one. 

“Go to your girl, I’ll be right there,” Phil says to Eddie, snapping his finger at him again.

You place your palm against the soft cushions as you lean back, putting your leg over the other as you eye Eddie up and down, “happy now?” 

He hums, nodding proudly. Eddie surprises you by placing his hands on your waist and picking you up, placing you on your feet, he grins at the wide eyes. Sitting down, he pulls you down on his lap, you squeal a little, throwing your arms around his neck. 

“Eddie!” 

He chuckles at you, “Eddie!” He mocks. 

Slapping his chest, you roll your eyes at him.

While you and Eddie decided to take things slow, you weren’t exactly good at it. Just like before, you are around each other, all the time. When he is not holding your hand, he has his arm wrapped around your shoulder or your waist, when you don’t sleep in hotel rooms together, you either sleep in his bunk or he will stay with you in your little room on the tour bus. You don’t kiss and you don’t have sex, not yet. But you still want to be near each other.

And you do everything to tease each other, more than you did before. 

“Did you really think I’d let that asshole touch you?” He whispers after pushing your hair to the side. 

You blink, looking around nervously, you watch the people rush around, not paying attention to you. 

Eddie presses a teasing kiss to your shoulder as he slides his hand down to your hips, “did you see the way he looked at you?” 

“Yes.”

“Every time someone looks at you or even touches you, I wanna rip their fucking hands off.” 

His voice sends shivers down your spine, his touch makes your heart flutter, you squeeze your thighs together when he kisses you again. 

“You are mine,” he whispers into your ear, “look at me.” 

You tighten your hold around his neck and look into his eyes and he smiles, “you are mine, right?” 

You run your hand down his chest and lean closer to him, brushing his curls back, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his cheek, “all yours.” 

He smirks as his eyes lighten up, he cups your cheek, “that’s right, sweetheart.” 

The flashing lights of the camera pulls you out of your little trance. 

“You two are just naturals,” Phil beams as he continues to snap pictures of you, “just keep doing your thing, rockstars.” 

Eddie chuckles, tightening his grip on your waist, “see? We’re naturals, baby.” 

-

February 4th, 1989

I can’t believe the tour is almost over, just a few weeks and we are back home, well, back in California. We’ve been in so many cool cities, performed in front of some big crowds, I think we all got closer as well. I can’t wait to start working on new songs and record another album. I just know that we’ll go back on tour in no time. –Jeff.

Things went well for a while, you managed to focus on yourself, focus on Eddie and the band, your concerts, not paying attention to any of the negative things that were happening outside of your little bubble.

You were feeling okay until one morning, you woke up and suddenly everything changed. 

That feeling of nausea has been haunting you for the past two weeks, every morning and night, you feel like you’re about to puke your guts out but nothing ever comes out. You barely eat, you struggle to do so. Every time you even bite into something, the bile in your throat rises and the panic settles in your chest– that weird feeling when you know you’re about to throw up. 

That constant feeling of sickness is so overwhelming, especially when you have to pretend that you are fine when all you really want to do is lay down and sleep until that feeling goes away.

All those interviews, the photoshoots, the press, those persistent journalists and paparazzis that still follow you around make it all just worse. You can deal with them but this sickness makes you feel exhausted.

You step back and look at yourself, staring at your reflection with a frown on your face, you are so tired. Your stomach hurts, probably from the lack of food but you can’t get anything down. 

You blink, pressing your lips together, you put your hand on your chest. 

“Sweetheart, are you okay in there?” Eddie asks, knocking on the door before he allows himself in, looking around to make sure that no one else is using the restroom. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you nod, plastering a smile on your face. 

He is concerned, his eyes are filled with worry, he closes the door and walks towards you. Reaching out to cup your cheeks, “are you sure?” He asks, “we can go back to our room, we don’t have to stay here.”

You’re celebrating Jeff’s birthday at the hotel bar. There’s no way that you will leave yet, he is one of your best friends. 

You shake your head, “no, it’s okay. I wanna stay.”

He doesn’t look convinced, he has been worried about your health for some time now. You tried your best to hide it, you tried to act like you are fine but you can’t hide it from him, not when you’re constantly around each other. He has been begging you to go see a doctor but you are stubborn and refuse to listen to anything he or Rob are saying. 

It all changed so suddenly, one day you were feeling fine and the next day you woke up feeling sick and it hasn’t stopped ever since. 

Eddie holds your hand tightly, keeping his other hand on your lower back as you both walk back to the table. The music and the loud noises overwhelm you a little but you try to drown them out as best as you can. 

Eddie is rubbing circles on your back, hoping that it will soothe your discomfort a little.

You meet the excited eyes of Wren who flew in just to spend time with Jeff this weekend. She smiles as she looks between you and Eddie but then it just falls as quickly as it came when her eyes lock on something– on someone else. 

You furrow your brows at the pale look on her face. 

“Y/n?” 

You haven’t heard that voice in years but you would recognize it anywhere, a weird feeling rushes through your body. You halt in your tracks and turn around, tightening your hold on Eddie’s hand, he gives you a questioning look but you aren’t looking at him, no, yours are locked on the man who stands by the bar. 

Eddie recognizes him, he doesn’t remember his name but he knows that he’s the lead singer of some band from England. 

As Eddie looks at you, taking in the nervous expression on your face, your hand that is squeezing his tightly as you force a smile on your face to greet the man that just called out to you, he suddenly feels realization dawning on him. He is the man you have told him about when you opened up about the drugs. Instantly, he finds a dislike towards the man he doesn’t even know, his protectiveness takes over and he pulls you into him, placing his hand on your waist. You instinctively lean into him, relaxing into his touch.

“Jay, hi..” 

Eddie eyes him, he is a little taller than him, tousled blond hair, blue eyes that take in the sight of you. He has tattoos on both arms, a nose ring. He is significantly older than you, maybe in his mid thirties. 

“Hey sweet thing, long time no see,” he smiles. His eyes stop at the hand attached to your hip and he chuckles a little before he looks at Eddie who clenches his jaw at the pet name. 

You blink, looking between both men, “uh– Eddie that’s Jay, Jay that’s Eddie..” 

They greet each other with forced smiles. 

“Are you two together?” Jay asks, pointing his finger between the two of you. 

You swallow nervously, looking up at Eddie who already nods at his question, “yeah, we’re together as you can see,” Eddie mumbles as he brings his palm up to your shoulder. 

He chuckles, nodding, “yeah.” 

The tension is thick, Eddie glares at the man in front of him, you know that he already figured out who he is. 

“Uh– so what brings you here?” You ask. 

“I’m working on a new album, love.” 

You nod, “that’s cool...”

“Yeah, you know, I’d ask for your help but you got your own band now,” he smiles, glancing at Eddie for a moment before he looks back at you, “never thought I’d see you on the big stage, you used to be so.. shy.” 

Something about the way he looks down at you as he talks makes Eddie’s blood boil, not because of jealousy but because he feels so protective over you. He clearly has no good intentions and the way he eyes you like you’re some piece of meat makes him want to bash his face into the counter. 

You chuckle nervously, “well, times change and people do too.”

He nods, “yeah, they really do change,” he chuckles, eying you up and down, “we should go out sometime.” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so man,” Eddie mumbles in annoyance, not even caring about sounding rude.

Jay chuckles in amusement, smirking at Eddie, “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to her.”

Rolling your eyes, you place your hand over Eddie’s, grabbing it tightly, “no, he’s right. We’re busy anyways, we should go now, it was nice to see you,” you mumble with a fake smile, tugging at Eddie’s hand, you just want to escape the situation quickly. 

Eddie takes another second to glare at the blond man, he scoffs quietly as he turns his back on him, squeezing your hand and pulling you along with him but just as you turn to leave, Jay reaches for your arm and pulls you back, “hold on.” 

Eddie is almost ready to fight the man, groaning in annoyance but you put your hand on his chest, “it’s okay,” you whisper. He doesn’t look convinced, his brown eyes are filled with both anger and concern, “it’s okay,” you repeat. 

He nods at you. Taking a deep breath, you turn back around, “what is it?” 

Jay ignores Eddie’s presence, who sizes the man up before he turns away with a clenched jaw. 

“You don’t look well, darling.” 

Frowning at his words, you shrug, “well, the tour is pretty stressful.”

“I can get you something, if you want.” 

Pills, cocaine, drugs.. 

You scoff, shaking your head, “no, thanks.”  

He looks over your shoulder to check if Eddie is still looking away. 

“You need a little pick me up,” he mumbles and before you can protest or speak up, he pushes a little plastic baggie into your hand, “you need it, trust me.” 

You look down at it, heart jumping to your throat, your eyes flash with disgust. You don’t need it, you don’t want it. And still, you clutch it tightly in your hand before you can give it back to him, you just watch him walk away from you, winking at you. 

You don’t want it. 

“Come on, sweetheart.”

You let Eddie pull you away, he guides you away from the bar and not into the direction of your friends but outside, he wants to make sure that you’re okay. 

The moment you step into the lobby, Eddie grabs your face, looking for any sign of fear or discomfort on your face. He sees the haunted look in your eyes, the anxiety. 

“Are you okay?” He whispers even though he knows that you are not okay.

No, you just ran into a toxic old flame who placed drugs into your hand and you did nothing, you just stood there and accepted it. 

“Yeah..”

He doesn’t believe you. 

“That was him, right?” 

You nod.

“Want me to kick his ass?” 

Your face breaks into a smile and chuckle falls from your lips. 

“No, it’s okay,” you giggle. 

“Are you sure? Cause I can totally do that, I hate that asshole.” 

“You don’t even know him.” 

“Yeah well, one interaction was enough for me to hate him. He almost ruined your life.” 

You shake your head, “no,” you whisper, “I’m okay… I really am.”

You reach for his hand and give him a small smile, “I promise,” you whisper. 

He nods even though he doesn’t look convinced at all, he leans in and kisses your forehead, “okay.”

-

You didn’t touch them, you won’t touch them, you know you should’ve thrown them away but something pushed you to keep them. Now you are staring at two things that could potentially change your life. 

One, the stupid baggie that contains that white powder that will definitely ruin your life. 

Two, the letter, your Dad’s letter that you have yet to open. It might save you or it might kill you, who knows what he wrote to you? 

Will you ever read it? You don’t know because what if that will break you? What if that will push you to ruin your life? 

You don’t feel like yourself, you haven’t felt like yourself in weeks. Maybe it’s the drastic change that you have felt inside of you or maybe it’s the lack of sleep, the lack of food, the stress or maybe it’s just that other thing that you don’t even want to think about. 

You drown yourself in work, you distract yourself as best as you can. You push the letter and the stupid baggie into the suitcase, letting it sit at the very bottom. You don’t want to open either of those. 

And while you put a fake smile on your face and pretend to be okay in front of everyone else, Eddie finds himself feeling more scared than ever. 

Your eyes are slowly losing the light, your smile is rarely ever genuine anymore, when you don’t look tired, you look incredibly nervous and sick. 

It’s the stress, he tells himself. 

He is there for you, he takes care of you and tries to urge you to eat something other than chocolate and crackers but even he can see that you can’t do it, looking nauseous after every small bite of the foods you used to love so much. 

Despite the weakness you have been experiencing, you are still a powerhouse, you still perform perfectly, singing your lungs out and dancing on stage just like always. These moments and the nights with him are the only ones that seem to make you feel a little at peace. 

There is this unspoken thing between the two of you, you aren't friends, not anymore, you are more than that. You are together even if you haven't said it out loud yet.

But it's all still innocent and so fragile. You trust him but you are afraid to let him in completely. He hasn't touched you yet, he hasn't even kissed you properly in a while, still giving you the time and distance that you have asked for.

Two nights before Valentine's day, Eddie locks himself in the bathroom to wrap the present that he got you earlier. An excited smile is lingering on his face as he wraps up the little box in red paper, using the clear tape to keep it together. 

The scissors that are laying at the edge of the counter slip and fall down, right into the trash. 

Eddie groans in annoyance, bending down to pick them out, he reaches for the black scissors when his eyes catch something else. He furrows his brows and reaches for the white object, the scissors long forgotten. 

He picks it out and stands up straight again. 

His blood runs cold and his eyes widen as his heart drops to his stomach. He puts his hand over his mouth. 

Suddenly, it all begins to make sense. 

Your sickness, your exhaustion, the mood swings. 

He stares at the two lines, positive. 

His hand begins to shake and his heart begins to race, suddenly he feels sick.

-

tagging friends! @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @yearwalker96 @eddiemyloveee

#eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fluff

[neonghostlights]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader (best friends to lovers-slow burn)

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★Chapter Summary: Eddie takes reader to a special place.

★Warnings: Mention of readers injuries, mention of alcohol, mention of abuse, hospitals, 18+ only, minors DNI

series masterlist

Chapter Twelve: Just Me And You

November 1992

There should be laws against the paparazzi and journalists swarming the hospital like this. They were like little ants all fighting over the last crumb of bread.

You tucked your extra large and dark sunglasses against your face tightly to try to prevent them from running down your nose.

Eddie had worked this all out, planned it so precisely so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything else besides healing.

The doctors used the word lucky more times than you could count. You were sick and tired of the word. If you heard the word uttered between asking you to take a deep breath while a cold stethoscope pressed to your back you thought you might go insane.

You didn’t feel lucky. Margie had stopped by long enough to let you know that the tabloids were going insane, just like you had thought. Eddie walked back in the room from the bathroom to immediately kick her out.

He wasn’t very happy with her right now either.

Eddie stayed for the whole week you were in the hospital, only going far enough to shower in the bathroom adjoining your room when you convinced him that he stunk enough to make you pass out again.

Surprisingly, you didn’t speak much about your time apart before you were discharged from the hospital. You didn’t have much time to talk when you were constantly napping, talking to doctors, or being whisked away for test after test and scan after scan.

You were a little thankful for the lack of sharing. You weren’t ready to hear how Eddie’s life had been all sunshine and rainbows since you had last spoken. You weren’t ready to hear how his life had been amazing without you, yet your life fell apart the second he left it.

You needed Eddie more than he needed you.

You had a broken rib that ached with every breath now that you were off the pain medications, lacerations on your face and your arms from broken glass, and bruises scattered across your body both from before and during the accident.

It has been a week and you could still make out the handprints in your skin, feel them there with every movement.

You leaned against the hospital window, peeking through the blinds as you stared down at the shit show below you. Paparazzi and fans swarmed the street, hoping to catch a glimpse at either you or Eddie.

It had somehow leaked which hospital you were at and when you were being discharged. Eddie had some guys looking into it but you highly doubted you would find the source of the leak. There were too many people, too many hands involved in your situation to ever pin it on just one person.

There was a pink duffle bag packed on the bed full of some of the necessities needed during a week long hospital stay. Miles had dropped it by before he was ushered out of the room by Eddie and his security guards.

All of your belongings had been packed and shipped out of Collins house, awaiting a new home for them in storage.

Your clothes, and other things needed for wherever you and Eddie were going had already been shipped out and apparently waiting for you at your future destination.

You still didn’t know where you two were going. A private jet was waiting for you. Some place sacred that Eddie promised would hide you from the world waited for you.

You just needed to get out of this damn hospital in one piece.

“You ready to go?” Eddie asked as he hovered near the hospital room door. He had been busy all morning, planning your escape like you were breaking out of a high security prison.

You nodded once and he called for the security guards who were going to escort you both out of the hospital. You had been technically discharged for hours, having signed paperwork earlier that morning.

Eddie insisted that you ride in a wheelchair down to the car that was waiting for you. You argued, of course, insisting on walking but you both knew it would hurt and take too long so you had to give in and accept the ride from the intense looking security guard that pushed the wheelchair expertly down the hallways. The man was moving so fast that you were starting to get motion sickness as he whipped around the corners quickly.

They must have pulled some strings because the halls were empty except for the curious staff member who would peek their heads out of rooms and through curtains just to catch a glimpse of you going by.

You made it to the exit thankfully without incident.

“I’m going out first, then you two,” one of the security guards said. “We’re gonna move quickly.”

You had to keep yourself from laughing. You felt like you were being guarded like a precious diamond instead of a person who just happened to get herself into trouble.

But you had seen first hand what paparazzi and mobs were capable of.

The security guard opened the door, looking left then right before ushering you both through the opening.

Even with dark sunglasses on you still squinted. It had been days since you’d felt the sun on your skin and unfortunately it wasn’t something you were ready for.

Eddie waited for you to get into the car first and you hated to admit it took you longer to stand than you wanted to.

He hovered, a hand barely touching your back in case you needed him.

You were half way into the car, working to pull your self into the seat when you heard the camera shutter.

You froze, looking to the left to spot a woman with a camera peeking around the brick wall of the hospital building, camera posed on you.

“Fuck!” Eddie cursed and you scrambled despite your protesting body to throw yourself onto the seat and scoot over as much as possible for Eddie to jump in beside you.

Once the door shut the driver wasted no time peeling away with squealing tires like you and Eddie had just committed a crime, like there were millions of stolen dollars lined up in the pink duffle bag in the back.

The speed of the car reminded you too much of that night and you couldn’t help but shut your eyes, fingers digging into the leather seats tightly.

“You okay?” Eddie asked when he noticed how tense you were.

All you could do was shake your head and hold on for your life.

—

The plane ride was mostly silent.

Eddie had decided to leave you alone after asking if you were okay for the millionth time. He finally got the hint when you closed your eyes and pretended to sleep on the private jet.

You felt guilty for using this luxury when other people who had been involved in the accident hadn’t been so lucky.

You couldn’t let yourself think about it again or you were going to drive yourself insane.

You didn’t ask Eddie where you were going and he didn’t tell you. You let yourself enjoy the surprise, mind reeling with the possibilities.

The plane held just the two of you, the pilots and a flight attendant that really liked Eddie.

A lot.

She was practically in his lap as she waited on him.

“We have whiskey, wine, or even beer if that’s your taste,” she cooed, as she took it upon herself to lean over to adjust the seatbelt he had just unlatched.

“Water only. Please do not give me any alcohol at all.” He said in a low voice that you could barely hear.

She nodded, scurrying away as she went to get him what he wanted, probably expecting him to say something else.

You sighed and rested your head against the seat as you took a nap.

The plane touched down in the last place that you expected.

A sleepy little town in Rhode Island.

You sat up in your seat, seatbelt pulling as you felt your stomach drop during the landing.

“Rhode Island?” You asked Eddie making sure you heard the announcement correctly.

“Just trust me.”

Just trust me.

His words echoed in your ears as the car pulled up to the simple, one story beach house.

It was painted a light blue, lighter than the ocean before it. Large rocks rested around the porch. You could see yourself sitting out here, enjoying the waves as you read your book.

It was November and cold, not the perfect time to be at the beach but it was empty. The house we’d secluded, no neighbors around to see you.

The chauffeur helped Eddie carry your bags into the house. You swatted his hands away as he tried to help you up the steps.

The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. It was open with light colored floors that reminded you of the sand outside, large windows let in the light and you could feel the cold breeze blow through an open window in the kitchen. You went to shut it.

Eddie went through the house first, flipping on lights and setting your bags down.

“Shit,” you heard Eddie curse from the back of the house as you stood frozen in the living room.

You followed his voice, entering the room at the end of the hallway.

He stood in front of a king sized bed that was draped in a white comforter.

“What’s wrong?” You asked as he held his chin in his hand.

“There’s only one bed.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddiemunson x actress!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson

[aylasology]

Oh Pretty Woman~

70s!Rockstar!Robin x Groupie!fem!reader.

Rockstar!Robin (she's her own warning honestly).

Your high heels clicked, walking into the hallways of the apartment building as if it was yours. Crimson red lipstick and fur coat on. You were supposed to stop with the habit of getting with these rock stars, but there was something so different with the way this rockstar whispered into your ear before she left.

"L.A ain't the same without you, doll."

Robin. Robin Buckley. How could you forget? You were her pretty little drug, the girl wrapped around her finger, the princess she'd pamper and spoil whenever she was on the road. The girl that wasn't explicitly hers, and yet, the girl she lead on to believe that maybe she was more than just some groupie.

Your friend, a journalist who was simply following everywhere Hellfire went - where Robin went - stood by the front of the door, grabbing a pen and a notepad. He doesn't know anything about you and Robin, or the whole groupie thing, but you'd like to keep it that away.

"You ready to meet some cool people?" you asked him. Watching him straighten his jacket and hair. You found it amusing how he wanted to look so formal for a party, you shrugged it off. He only nods.

You weaved a sigh, opening the doorknob. Musicians, groupies, and a shit ton of strangers fill the apartment. It was a big place so to speak, music filling the room through a broken record player. For the rest of the night, you made sure to stick to your friend, a looking eye for him so that he wouldn't get drunk or "unprofessional" as he worded it. He said he was a journalist, but in truth, he really is just a young boy writing and fanboying over rockstars.

"Guess who's going on a motherfucking tour!" Eddie Munson, Hellfire's lead guitarist, yelled as he opened the door, bottle of wine in hand as he chugged. A hand is shoved to his face, pushing him away from the door. A boy tall and muscular walks into the door - Steve Harrington, the bassist of Hellfire waves to the crowd.

"Don't mind him, he's drunk." Steve chimed, pulling Dustin Henderson, their drummer, into the room. All three boys running and prodding towards the partygoers. Where's Robin?

And as the thought of her comes to mind, in flare jeans, and a graphic sleeveless shirt, Robin walks in. Leather boots long and fitted on her legs, sweat after tonight's opening act for some band they don't even remember the name of shined and slicked on her exposed arms, muscular and smooth. Her hair dishevelled and longer than the last time you saw her, the brown roots of her hair growing a little more. Heart-shaped sunglasses blocked the vision which were her blue eyes. Those goddamn eyes that could weaken you with a single glance.

"I'm not late am I?" Robin asked, smooth and slim fingers holding onto the rim of her glasses as she pushed it up to her hair. Her fingers tut with her hair, a playful chuckle erupting from her soft, glossy lips. She strides to the couch, hips swaying so effortlessly as she walked towards the rest of hellfire. Sitting down on the empty space between Eddie and Steve, manspreading as her arms slung around the two boys shoulders.

Your fingers gripped on the red cup you were holding. Your friend had a grin on his face, tugging to your coat as if it told you everything that he wanted the two of you to do : go closer to hellfire.

You look down on your cup, it's almost empty, a perfect excuse not to go near Hellfire - near Robin. "Why don't you go alone? I'll watch from afar." you chuckled awkwardly. Noticing now tense you were, without really knowing the reason why, your friend nods, leaving you alone with the crowd.

He waves over to the group, a toothy smile from Dustin in response. He lets your friend sit in the armrest of the couch, bickering over something you couldn't quite hear. A guy in the crowd goes over to you, talking about the band and all that stuff, responding to him with half hearted "mhms" and mindless nods.

But your eyes were focused elsewhere; focused on the girl scanning the crowd. The girl who's eyes, blue and deep, scanned the faces of the strangers in her apartment - as if she was looking for that one familiar face, your face.

And that's when eyes meet. Her eyes meeting your own. You could feel your heart skip a beat, a crimson hue arising on your cheeks. She was no guitarist, but she plucked on your heartstrings better than anyone could.

A smile tuts on her lips. That goddamn smile, a devilish glint in her eyes, her smile pursed into a smirk.

You looked down on your cup, empty. "I need to get some ice." You announce to the stranger who came up to you, running down the halls in search of an ice machine, in which you find in a small room.

You get in, and as you do, you hear the door swing shut.

Holy shit.

"I can't believe you actually showed up." She whispered, her breath against your neck, fingers sliding to grip onto your waist. You've never actually felt yourself melt before, but as you felt her fingers caress on the fabric of your coat you knew you were done for.

"When does it end?"

"What?" Robin cooed, her voice deep and low, a tone she's always reserved just for you. Her fingers move high up, planting them on your waist.

"This. The story about the girl who's wrapped around a rockstar's little finger and when she gets tired of being this rockstar's plaything she leaves. The rockstar sends her six...no..ten letters and doesn't even leave a backstage pass in San Diego." You replied, sliding her hands off your body. "Robin I've had enough. I'm done with this lifestyle. I'm done with you." You added, there wasn't much truth in your words as you'd like to believe yourself, and Robin didn't believe you at all.

She smiled. Why did she smile?

"Oh honey." Robin chuckled, fingers moving to grab your cup. "I say you're done with all this when I tell you are." She replied, grabbing ice from the machine. "And let me tell you, the day you're truly done, rock n roll's gonna miss you." You hear ice being tossed to your glass, daring not to look at Robin herself.

"It's gonna miss the way you turn a hotel into a home."

An ice cube thrown to your glass.

"The way you know every song. Every song. Even the bad ones. Especially the bad ones." A chuckle slips out of her plush lips. Another cube thrown to your glass.

"Coats and vests in the middle of summer." Another cube.

"Those pink lips and the way it giggles over every small compliment." Another cube.

"The way it fawns over me as if it's never been complimented all it's life."

Silence fills the room, your fingers brushing over a table. A lump in your throat. You feel warm hands on the grip of your waist, your cup left on the table.

"You're more than just some groupie, darling." She cooed, lips brushing on the flesh of your ear. "You're your own kind of woman." She said before turning you around to face her, pinning you up against the brim of the table. "You're my woman."

And before you could protest, she kissed you powerfully. Hands gripping on the edge of the table as if fighting to keep your hands off her. She pulled you closer, a smirk on the edge of her lips as a soft whimper slips from yours. A needy sound that could make her go ballistic.

"So loud for me already, huh?" She chuckled, pulling away. "I barely even touched you."

Fingers brush against your chin, making you look up at her.

"Come to Arizona, baby."

"Never." yes

She smirked. "We leave tomorrow. 9AM. And pack light this time, Jesus."

#robin buckley #stranger things #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley x fem!reader #aylasology #robin buckley x reader fanfiction #aylasology4robinbuckley! #aylasologyfics #Can you tell i used to be obssesed over Almost Famous #Rockstar Robin Buckley

[honey-flustered]

Cruel Little Vixen Series Masterlist

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Fem!Reader

Enemies to Lovers

Angst/Fluff/Smut (+18 MDNI)

Summary: Lacking in magazine sales, your boss assigns you to follow the life of Lead Singer/Guitarist of Corroded Coffin ‘Francis The Freak’ a.k.a. Eddie Munson for a month to write an article that could potentially save the magazine. Eddie Munson wanted fame but didn’t know the consequences of this include pretending to be someone he’s not. When rumors begin to float around causing some notoriety for his reputation, his manager agrees to an exposé of his life to make him seem nicer to a broader audience much to Eddie’s chagrin. Now the two of you are set to make your time together a living hell.

Series Warning: graphic language, some blood and violence, some triggering traumatic experiences (addict parents, emotional abuse, talks of depression and self harm), drug consumption, possessive!eddie, some heartbreak, crying, filthy smut, heavy angst, heavy fluff, humor, rockstar shenanigans, light dom/sub dynamics

Day 1-2

Day 2.5-3

Day 3.5-4

Day 5-14

Day 15

Day 16-20

Day 21-23

Day 23.5-31

*Bonus

Character Bios & Face Inspo

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #mean!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson au #eddie munson my beloved #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #smutty fic #eddie munson fanfiction

[enam3l]

(hooray!!! tumblr fixed the links so everything should be in working order lmk if there’s any issues - 4th may)

TAGLIST AND REQUESTS OPEN

follow the tag #enam3ls rockstar eddie to get new update alerts! best way of using the tag is to go onto my tumblr then use the search bar and enter the tag. then it shows everything tagged from newest to oldest!

rockstar eddie munson fucking hates tommy lee (ficlet?)

the story of eddie x readers life-long beef with tommy lee

these days, rockstar eddie doesn’t give a fuck (headcanon story)

in the year 2022, eddie munson is a husband, dad and oh yeah – a rockstar but now he’s in his 50s, he really just doesn’t give a fuck what people think

rockstar eddie does Halloween (headcanon story)

from celebrating his first halloween with you to the present day, all of eddie’s annual Halloween antics

rockstar eddie does Halloween pt.2 (4k / smut)

in 1992 a certain halloween costume gets you in trouble with your boyfriend eddie

rockstar eddie’s purpose in life was becoming a dad (headcanon story)

an intro to dad rockstar eddie and his daughters for the first time ever

rockstar eddie’s friends in the industry (ficlet)

eddie hates tommy lee but he’s also got lots of friends and others he admires – how they meet metallica 

rockstar eddie munson thinks any music is good music if it makes you happy (ficlet)

eddie loves taking you to see your fave gigs and festivals then later your kids too

the big one: how rockstar eddie met his wife (y/n) (11.7k / fluffy love)

in an interview in november 1999, eddie and wife y/n tell a journalist how you met by pure coincidence on February 11th 1989

rockstar eddie’s lipstick stained shirt  (2.6k / smut)

in July 1993 corroded coffin are performing in vegas and a surprise from eddie results in you struggling to keep it in your pants

rockstar eddie has a new member for the band (headcanon story)

as you’re pregnant with your first baby Sloane, you worry how being a dad rockstar will work and how other musicians will react

rockstar eddie munson is gonna get the girl and god help anyone who stops him (9.6k / angst / fluff / slight smut)

direct follow up to how you and eddie met for the first time. after spending all your time together, in august 1989 you take your first holiday together and trouble ensues

the munson kids and their friendships with other rockstar’s kids (blurb) 

rockstar eddie munson and his wife are still hopelessly in love (ficlet / fluff)

your youngest daughter maeve notices not everyone is as in love as you and eddie

steve harrington's happy ending (4.7k / fluff)

our boy steve gets the ending he's always deserved! we meet corey and the other nuggets mom for the first time

half the world away (4k / fluff / smut 18+ / slight angst)

following their first holiday together, eddie goes on corroded coffin's first nationwide tour and you're apart for the first time since meeting

like a rainbow (4k / pure fluff)

you might be heavily pregnant with your first baby but hell will freeze over before you miss an award show that eddie is nominated at

96' awards show bonus: kiss from a rose (ficlet / fluff)

an extra scene to 'like a rainbow'. yours and your baby's favourite song is being performed live and eddie is just... eddie

rockstar eddie learns about the kardashians (ficlet / fluff)

the munsons get a wedding invite - but eddie is wondering who the hell the kardashians are?

the wish (ficlet / fluff)

you want to make sure eddie’s first birthday with you by his side is special so you ask the whole gang for help

driving mrs munson (ficlet / fluff)

now you’ve left the city for hawkins, eddie thinks you might need a new ride

sunday morning (ficlet / fluff / allusion to smut)

a day in the life of you and your boyfriend eddie as you enjoy a cute sunday together

one embarrassing dad to rule them all (ficlet / fun / fluff)

maeve can’t resist capturing her dad eddie’s antics for tiktok

there’s something about marnie (ficlet / fluff / smut)

your daughters have eddie wrapped around their fingers but they just can’t seem to get him to buy a dog

he had it coming (ficlet / fluff / smut / light violence)

not long after having your first baby together, the media is buzzing with pamela anderson and tommy lee drama and eddie is sick of the paparazzi

munson family values (ficlet / fluff / mention of smut)

what’s not to love about being on holiday with your rockstar husband eddie and your three daughters?

this maeve-chine slays dragons (ficlet / fluff / angst)

eddie loves being a dad more than anything but is scared his youngest daughter maeve doesn’t like him

an eddie munson christmas (ficlet / festive fluff)

readers choice! your first ever christmas with eddie is your first real christmas ever

three fucking weeks (3.6k / filthy smut)

it's been three long gruelling weeks without eddie whilst he's been away recording and now you're finally reunited. cliffhanger ending!

the big question (4.6k words / pure fluff) NEW

continuing straight after 'three fucking weeks' eddie is finally prepared to ask you the big question.

little notes and answered questions 

eddie’s queer daughter Sloane (1) (2)

eddie’s middle daughter iris (1)

eddie deals with season 4 (1)

eddie’s industry pals and views (1) (2) (3)

aftermath of season four (1)

#enam3l x eddie #enam3l asks #enam3ls rockstar eddie #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson x yn #Eddie munson angst

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

X Girlfriend

Pairing: RockStarEddieMunsonxReader

Request: This one is more fluff.

So i had one in mind where the reader and eddie have been together since high school and hes a famous rockstar now and they have a high school reunion and his ex gf is there and shes constantly bashing the reader about how eddie will leave her now hes famous and that he will never marry her and saying she isnt a type of model to be with him (shes a model the reader) and she believes it and is distant on eddie and he notices and he confronts her and assures her he loves her and when he has a concert the ex is there too and steve robin and nancy and the kids who are older are there too and after the show eddie confronts the ex and later he proposes to the reader at the concert?

You couldn’t believe you were back here, Hawkins High. How had it  been ten years since you’d walked these halls? Ten years since Eddie had knocked his chair over as he leapt up, announcing to the entire class that he’d gotten a C on Ms. O’Donnel’s final. Ten years since you’d sat around the cafeteria table listening to the boys dissect their latest campaign. Ten years since you and Eddie had sat on the picnic table in the woods, sharing a joint between classes. 

Every pair of eyes turned to look at the two of you as you entered the gym, Eddie’s hand in yours. Yeah, they all looked in awe now at the two people they called freaks and losers back in high school. Eddie was all over their MTV, Corroded Coffin’s music videos on a constant loop. You were on the cover of their favorite magazines that they picked up while they were doing their Sunday grocery shopping. Yeah, let them all look at the kids they’d pegged as losers, now successful and on top of the world. 

“Hey! Guys!” You glanced over to see your long-time best friend, Robin, waving at you from a group of former band geeks. 

“Robin!” you shrieked, dragging Eddie behind you as you ran to her, releasing his hand to pull her into a hug. The two of you still talked every single week but with your crazy schedule, you didn’t get nearly enough Robin time these days. You were looking forward to the long weekend with your friends you missed so much. 

“Jesus, it’s so good to get my hands on you!” shrieked Robin and then her eyes went wide, mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ as she realized what she’d just said. 

“Sorry blondie, that’s my job,” Eddie teased with a deep chuckle. 

“Shit, you know what I meant.” Robin waved her hands at him. “I am so excited for tomorrow night! I can’t believe you guys are actually doing a concert here! We’re all coming. Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, El…we’re all going to be there!”

“Seriously?” asked Eddie, his smile a mile wide. “It will be so great to see everyone again.”

“Of course. Do you really think we’d miss it?”

A roar rose up from the left of you and you all turned to see the former Hellfire gang, hands in the air, bellowing at Eddie. He laughed, shaking his head. 

“Hey princess, I am going to go say hi. You okay?”

“Of course,” you told him, waving him away. “Go. Have fun.”

“Yeah, no worries rockstar, I’ve got her,” Robin assured, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. 

“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit, k?” He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours. “Love you.”

“Love you too. Go. Reunite with your nerds.”

Eddie grinned, making his way over to his bandmates and fellow club members. You sat down with Robin, the two of you catching up on life. Robin lived in Indianapolis now, working at an art museum, living with her long-time girlfriend Vickie. Nancy and Jonathan lived there too, the two of them married for four years, both of them journalists. Steve had stayed in Hawkins, but he now owned the Family Video, having worked his way up and then buying the Hawkins branch when the former owner retired. 

“Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You internally groaned, rolling your eyes, sharing a look of disgust with Robin. You knew that voice. It was Eddie’s ex, the one he’d broken up with for you in the middle of junior year. Shawna was a total bitch. She’d worked hard to make your life miserable, convinced you stole Eddie from her. The truth was, he’d never loved her, and he quickly realized it when he found out you had feelings for him. 

It had been a constant bone of contention between the two of you the rest of junior year. Shawna had left nasty notes in your locker. She’d started rumors about you, saying you slept with half the guys in Hellfire and that was why Eddie was with you, because you’d give it up when she wouldn’t. She said you stuffed your bra to make guys more into you. She said slept with your Science teacher to get an ‘A’ in the class. It was awful. Her constant pettiness and jealousy had almost split the two of you up. 

On top of that, she wouldn’t leave Eddie alone. You’d go to meet him by his locker after class and she would be there, leaning into him, batting her eyes. You’d make your way over to the Hellfire table at lunch and she’d be in your seat, her hand on Eddie’s arm. You’d finally exploded at him one day and told him if he still wanted her, he could go have her and leave you the hell alone. He’d assured you he didn’t want her, he’d never really wanted her, that you were all he wanted. You’d never been so relieved as when graduation day finally came and you could put Shawna in your rearview mirror. Now, here she was again. 

“Shawna, what an unpleasant surprise,” Robin exclaimed, sarcasm dripping off of every word. 

“Buckley, how is your dyke lifestyle treating you?” she sneered. 

“Much better than your breeder lifestyle, based on the fact that your marriage lasted all of what? Eight months from what I heard?” Robin shot back. “How sad for you.”

“At least I got married,” Shawna snapped, her eyes moving down to your left hand. “I don’t notice a ring on your finger. Eddie must not want to buy the cow when she so readily gives up all the milk for free. How many milkshakes do you think he’s enjoying these days? There must be an endless string of groupies just throwing themselves at him.”

Your eyes narrowed, “There are, actually. In case you haven’t noticed, my boyfriend is pretty damn sexy but he always comes home to me. He’s never dropped me because a better option came along.”

“Maybe he comes home to you, but you have no idea what he’s doing out on the road,” Shawna taunted. “All those long, lonely nights, you know his right hand isn’t enough company. And with your modeling career, you can’t be around all the time, can you? Don’t you think if he really thought you were the one, that he would have proposed already? There must be a reason he’s not committing.” She paused, giving you a mocking smile. “How sad for you. Well, you ladies have fun. I’m going to go say hi to some old friends.”

“Jesus, she is such a bitch,” Robin muttered, shaking her head. When you didn’t respond, she turned to you, placing her hand on your forearm. “Hey, you’re not believe anything she just said, are you?”

You glanced over at her, shaking your head, “No. Obviously not. What the hell does she know, right?”

But hadn’t you asked yourself that same question? You and Eddie had been dating for over eleven years and he still hadn’t asked. Why? Did he not see a future with the two of you? Wasn’t eleven years long enough to know? You were coming up on thirty. Eddie had just turned thirty a couple months ago. You wanted a family. He said he did too but he kept finding one more reason to put it off. Was the reason because he wasn’t planning on spending forever with you?

You went through the motions the rest of the evening, smiling and laughing in all the right places, pretending it was great to see all these people that didn’t give two shits about you in high school so why should you care about them now. You drank a little more than you probably should have but it blurred all the harsh thoughts in your head. 

“Whoa there, pretty girl,” Eddie laughed, an arm around your waist to keep you steady as he used the key to unlock the room door. You were staying at the one decent hotel that Hawkins had. 

He led you into the room, helping you over to the bed. You dropped down, staring at the wall, all those fears and insecurities forcing their way to the front of your mind. If you hadn’t had those shots of tequila with the cheerleaders, you might have pushed them all down, never said anything, convinced yourself to let it go. But you did have those shots and those thoughts came spilling out. 

“Why don’t you wanna marry me?” you asked.

Eddie stilled, his hand on his boot that he had been removing and looked up at you, brow furrowed, “What babe?”

“Why don’t you wanna marry me? What’s wrong with me? Am I not wife material?”

“Whoa. What are you talking about?”

“We’ve been together for eleven fucking years Eddie!” you exclaimed, rising from the bed, tossing your arms erratically in the air. “You tell me you want a family. You tell me you want everything I want but you don’t. At least, not with me. Are you fucking groupies? I’m not always with you. You’re all alone on the tour bus. Do you get lonely and fuck groupies? Is that why you don’t wanna marry me? So you can keep sticking your dick all over the place?”

“Hey!” he bellowed, lurching to his feet. “What the hell are you saying? I have never fucked a groupie, princess. I have never cheated on you. I never would. How in the hell could you say that?”

“Then why won’t you marry me!?” you demanded.

“Baby, we’ve talked about this,” Eddie stated. “It wasn’t the right time. We both had our careers and life has been crazy.”

“Bullshit! That’s all bullshit! You’re just finding excuses!”

“And you’re drunk,” he spat. “Shit!” Eddie groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I am not doing this with you right now. You’re drunk and you need to sleep it the hell off. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Don’t tell me how I’m thinking!”

“Jesus Christ,” muttered Eddie, throwing you over his shoulder as you yelled and whacked his back with your fists. “Knock it off!” He tossed you on the bed, pulling back the comforter and throwing it over you. “Sleep it off and we’ll talk about this in the morning when you’re fucking sober. I am not arguing with a drunk mess.”

“I hate you!”

“Yeah, and I love you, even when you are being a nasty drunk,” he huffed, grabbing his pillow and going over to the couch. 

_______________________________________________________

“So, you haven’t even talked to him about it today?” asked Robin the next night. 

You were standing at the bar at The Hideout, waiting for the show to begin. It truly was a homecoming, bringing to the forefront so many memories of Tuesday nights watching the guys before they got big. The line was wrapped around the block waiting to come in. All of Hawkins had come out to see their hometown freaks turned rockstars.

“No. He was gone by the time my hungover ass rolled out of bed,��� you grumbled, sipping on your water, avoiding alcohol at all costs after the embarrassing display you put on last night. “He had an interview with the local paper and they wanted to do a photoshoot with him at the high school. There was no time. But Jesus, I made such an ass of myself. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s done with me.”

“Eddie done with you?” asked Steve, shaking his head. “Never. That guy is in way too deep. I am sure everything will be fine. The two of you just need to have an honest talk.”

“Yeah, besides, this is only because Shawna is a giant bitch,” added Nancy. “She got in your head. It could have happened to anybody.”

“But she’s wrong,” Robin reminded her. “Eddie loves you. There’s no way he’s sleeping around on you.” She paused, catching sight of something out the window, frowning. “Damn. I forgot my phone in my car. I am going to go get it. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“That wasn’t her phone sticking out of her back pocket?” asked Dustin, pointing.

Your brows furrowed, watching Robin head out the door, wondering what she was doing. Had she forgotten she had her phone? Shrugging, you turned back to your friends, listening as Mike began filling everyone in on his new job and the house he and El were looking at buying. The sound of shouting interrupted your conversation and all of your head turned. 

“What the fuck, Shawna!? Are you that goddamn miserable? You’re so unhappy you have to try to make sure I am too? Are you that desperate that you’re still obsessed with me and her after all these goddamn years!? You’re pathetic!”

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, heart racing as you realized that was Eddie’s voice you were hearing. 

“So, I am guessing it wasn’t her phone that Robin went out there for,” said Jonathan, eyes wide. 

“Yeah, I am thinking she filled Eddie in on that conversation with Shawna last night,” Nancy agreed, cringing slightly. “I mean, not that the bitch doesn’t deserve it.”

You raced for the door, flinging it open to see Eddie towering over Shawna, his face contorted in anger. Shawna stepped into him, pressing her finger into his chest, not backing down.

“You expect me to believe that you’re not sleeping around?” Shawna demanded. “Come on. Isn’t that what you do? You drop one girl once a better option comes along?”

“Are you fucking insane?” he demanded. “I dropped you for her because I love her! We dated for all of two months, the worst fucking two months of my life. I’ve been with her for eleven goddamn years! It’s not even close to the same!”

Your eyes met Robin’s, flashing in irritation, letting her know how pissed you were that she’d gone behind your back and told Eddie. She offered you an embarrassed smile, shrugging her shoulders slightly. You ran to Eddie, grabbing his arm, trying to put an end to this pointless argument that wasn’t going to get anyone anywhere.

“You believed her!?” he yelled, looking down at you with so much hurt in his eyes. “You actually believed I would mess around on you? After eleven years together, you really think that about me?”

“Eddie, no, I…”

He yanked his arm from you, turning and heading down the side of the bar to the back. You glared at Shawna who was giving you a self-satisfied smirk before chasing after him, panicked that you had ruined everything. You came around the corner to find him leaning against the building, a cigarette in his hand.

“Eddie…” you began, inhaling deeply. “Fuck. Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have let her get into my head but it’s hard not to when you keep finding reasons we should wait to get married. You’re right. We have been together for a long time, but then why do you keep putting it off if you think I’m the one?”

“You are the one!” he yelled. “Sweetheart, you’re the only one. You’re the only thing in my life that makes any sense half the time. I only put it off because our careers were just starting and then we were so damn busy. It just didn’t seem like the right time. It never had anything to do with you and it sure as hell wasn’t because I was banging groupies behind your back. I can’t believe you’d think that!”

“If we keep putting it off because of our lives, we’ll always put it off,” you argued. “Eddie, I’m sorry I listened to her.”

“You should be! It’s Shawna, for fuck’s sake! You know she’s vindictive. She’ll say anything to get under your skin. How do you not know that?”

“I do. I just…I don’t know. I…”

“Hey Eddie, we gotta get ready to get on stage,” Gareth called from the alley door.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Look, I love you. You’re the only girl I want. Please tell me you know that.”

“Yeah,” you answered quietly. “I do. I love you too.”

Eddie grabbed your chin, kissing you, “Just…we’ll talk more later, okay? Just promise me you’ll be right in front of that stage like always?”

“Of course.”

“Good. I’ll be looking for that face, pretty girl.”

He headed in the door behind Gareth, leaving you in the alley alone. You wanted to believe him. You wanted to with all your heart because he was all you’d ever wanted but he still hadn’t given you a solid answer. You tried to push down the doubt, heading back around the building to take up your spot in front of the stage, cheering on your boyfriend. Yeah, you tried not to sigh at that word. That word that had been haunting you for years.

___________________________________________________________

“They’re amazing!” Nancy screamed over the roar of the pounding beats. 

“Most metal ever!” Dustin chimed in, jumping up and down with excitement. 

Eyes moving through the crowd, you couldn’t help but smile at the massive turnout. Corroded Coffin had come so far, from five drunks on a random Tuesday to selling out stadiums around the world. This was the homecoming those boys deserved, everyone cheering them on instead of whispering insults behind their backs. Oh, how their views had changed when they were seeing the evidence of raw talent right in front of them. 

Eddie had been on top of his game all right, flying around the stage, energy high, belting the vocals, shredding the guitar. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, his skin glistening under the fluorescent lighting. That mane of dark waves was untamed and wild, pieces sticking to his face in various places. As they wrapped up their final song, Eddie stepped to the front of the stage, dropping down to sit on the edge right in front of you. 

“Hawkins, what an epic fucking night!” he yelled into the mic causing a rousing chorus of cheers to rise up through the bar. He grinned at you and you couldn’t help return it, caught up in the excitement of it all. “Thank you so much for giving us the best damn welcome home anyone could ask for. You know, a lot of you know us from back in the day. Some of you went to high school with us. So, a lot of you are aware that I have been with this beautiful girl standing right in front of me for a very long time.”

Your eyes went wide, darting around to your friends who were all wearing identical smiles on their faces. You looked back at Eddie, wondering where he was going with this. You knew things had been a bit tense between you two before the show, but he didn’t have to do some grand apology. You just wanted the chance to talk, just the two of you, without alcohol involved.

“She’s stood by my side through everything. She was the first true Corroded Coffin fan. She believed we could make it before we did. She’s never stopped being our biggest fan. You’re all probably wondering what the hell a girl like this is doing with me? Well, you’re not alone. I wonder that too, every damn day. I am the luckiest bastard ever that she’s chosen me. She is the most important person in my life and the only person I want for the rest of my life. I’ve made her wait a long time for this…too long, probably…”

Eddie hopped down from the stage to stand in front of you, reaching into the pocket of his jeans. Your breath caught, hand flying to cover your mouth, as he dropped to one knee, opening the box to reveal a beautiful princess cut diamond in a platinum setting. He looked up at you, eyes warm, full of love and affection, full of everything you’d stupidly let yourself doubt. 

“Princess, I hope I haven’t waited too long. I wanted to do this tonight, back home, with all of our friends around. Will you marry me?”

Tears spilled down your cheeks, “Yes! Fuck yes!”

Eddie laughed, leaping off the floor to pull you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers moved through his sweaty hair, not caring, completely lost in this moment as your friends lost their minds around you, screaming and jumping up and down. 

“Did you really have this planned already?” you asked quietly.

“I did, princess,” he replied with a smirk. “I told you. It’s always been you. If you could have just waited about one more day…”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be,” Eddie assured, lips pressing to your forehead, his arm hooked around your neck. “I was the asshole who kept putting it off. I just wanted everything to be perfect.”

“It is,” you said, taking his face in your hands. “Everything with you is perfect.”

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #rockstar eddie munson x you #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson rockstar #eddie munson rockstar au

[chaos-is-beautifvl]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

— all my writing for the stranger things characters. if you have a request, please look to the guidelines here

𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐧𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

𝐤𝐞𝐲: ☾ = suggestive | ❤︎ = fluff | ☁️ = angst | completed = ✔︎ | ongoing (series) = ↺ | requested = ☎️

✿ unless stated otherwise, all of my fics are written with a fem!reader in mind and are poc!friendly

✿ fics ordered oldest to newest

✿ feedback is golden! please let me know what you think!

𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐢. daughter of a cop - ❤︎ ↺ || fem hopper!reader

pt. 1 - eddie has never put much thought into who your dad is and why he’s never met him until one evening when he wishes he never knew || inspired by daughter of a cop - tv girl

pt. 2 - after the first accidental and absolutely horrid incident with your dad, eddie isn’t all too keen on the idea of meeting him officially. spoiler alert: he has every reason to be worried

𝐢𝐢. jealousy, jealousy - ☁️ ❤︎ ↺ || fem!reader + steddie

it’s one thing not having the person you want most by your side. but it’s even worse when you have to watch them move on with someone else, who is way too nice || inspired by jealousy, jealousy - olivia rodrigo

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 15 dozen roses - ☁️ ❤︎ || fem!reader || previous billy hargrove x reader

losing one person you loved was more than enough pain for a lifetime but losing another? you hoped it would never come to it. then again, the universe has a vendetta against you || inspired by yours - conan gray

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐢. i spy with my little eye… - ❤︎ || fem!reader

you think your “tiny” crush on one d&d-playing, ring-wearing, poodle-rivaling brunet goes unnoticed until you’re confronted in a pizzeria of all places

𝐢𝐢. fights and... frolicking? - ☎️ ❤︎ ☁️ || fem henderson!reader

dustin’s been worried about his older sister because he hasn’t heard from her since she and their mom got into a fight. worried, he turns to his friend and is met with a surprising sight

𝐢𝐢𝐢. everyone adores you (at least i do) - ❤︎ || fem quiet!reader

eddie was an unapologetic loudmouth and maybe a bit of a freak. so it was a surprise to him and everyone else that a girl of very few words had rendered him speechless || inspired by everyone adores you (at least i do) - matt maltese

only want ya cause i can’t have ya - ☁️ || fem!reader

eddie is a sucker in every sense of the word. how stupid could he be to want someone he could never have? someone who was so much better off without him in their life? || inspired by johanna - suki waterhouse

unrequited love (& other clichés) - ☁️ ❤︎ || fem!reader

if he was truthful, eddie didn’t want to be friends with you. he wanted to be more, mean more to you. but that was just wishful thinking, right? || inspired by unrequited love (& other clichés) - breakup shoes

what was once - ☁️ ❤︎

eddie always thought this might happen but he pushed his doubts aside. now, they’re staring him right in the face, and he’s scared that he might lose you || inspired by what once was - her’s

you’re a rockstar, babe - ☾ || fem!reader

you’re a journalist, and your upcoming piece is about the battle of the bands. when a contestant with hair better than yours offers to show you an “amazing fucking time”, what do you say? you say yes, of course.

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐢. jealousy, jealousy - ☁️ || fem!reader & steddie

it’s one thing not having the person you want most by your side. but it’s even worse when you have to watch them move on with someone else, who is way too nice || inspired by jealousy, jealousy - olivia rodrigo

𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬

𝐢. dancing’s not a crime - ☎️ ❤︎ || fem!reader

you can’t remember the last time you attended a school dance, and you get a little reminiscent when see the Snow Ball. but who’s to say you’re too old to have a dance?

𝐢𝐢. dear (not so) secret diary… - ☎️ ☁️ || fem wheeler!reader

you have a secret. that secret has been shared with only two people - your diary and your best friend, just not the one it’s about. but what happens when your secret isn’t so secret anymore?

𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐢. 15 dozen roses - ☁️ ❤︎ || fem!reader || previous billy hargrove x reader

losing one person you loved was more than enough pain for a lifetime but losing another? you hoped it would never come to it. then again, the universe has a vendetta against you || inspired by yours - conan gray

#chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋 #stranger things masterlist #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington fluff

[pricelessemotion]

Starstruck and Metal | E.M.

Summary: [4.3k] you meet eddie for the first time. it doesn't go quite like you expected.

Pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!music journalist!reader

Warnings: none!

Notes: huge thank u to my bestie chuck for beta reading 🫶 also if you solve the crossword hint i love u

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InStereo magazine was not The Rolling Stones, but it was a start. The modest music magazine had a humble following, enough to earn some hums of recognition whenever someone made the mistake of asking what you did for a living. Most days, it’s great. You relish in the joy of working in a field some people only dream of entering. The leap from column writer to main article was a large one, but you insisted that you were ready. Your first assignment as a music journalist and of course you got stuck with Eddie fucking Munson. 

Any self-respecting music journalist, anyone with some skin in the game would have laughed in the face of their editor. But instead, you smiled. You nodded enthusiastically, mimicking the bobblehead that has since been removed from your desk. When you decided to become a music journalist, you wanted to write about people who were changing the field. Instead, you were being tasked with writing some puff piece being used to save a wannabe rock star’s reputation. God forbid you gain the reputation of being a difficult woman–in a male-dominated industry no less–by turning down such a great opportunity.  

Even if that opportunity included spending a day with Eddie fucking Munson. 

You paid out of pocket for the cassette of Corroded Coffin’s debut album that was currently underscoring your drive to West Hollywood. You refused to meet the frontman without having listened to their music beforehand. They were good. A little rough around the edges, but it was to be expected. Outside of the occasional headlines, you hadn’t heard much about Eddie or his band. Corroded Coffin was making ripples, not waves. Of course, no one really cared about the music when they could be reading about who and what their lead vocalist was doing. 

Still, you find yourself parking outside of a humble ranch-style home in a neighborhood full of similar housing that likely cost a fortune to live in. The modest proceeds from Corroded Coffin’s tour have obviously paid off, considering that nice area and affordable don’t usually exist in the same sentence when talking about LA housing. The June sun is beating down on the empty street, and you’re thankful that you decided to wear a T-shirt and jeans. You tell yourself that the sweat collecting on your brow is from the heat and not nerves. 

Double-checking that you have the right address, you slam the door shut on your sedan and take a deep breath. The air feels cleaner here, less smoggy. You’re not sure if it’s because of the altitude or the tax bracket of the people who live here. Probably both. You reach into your purse and feel around for what you already know is inside. Pen. Notepad. Tape recorder. The holy trinity for a music journalist. 

There were very few topics that Eddie wasn’t willing to talk about. You guess that when you’ve had your insides strewn across the pavement for everyone to see, you don’t bother trying to uphold any semblance of mystique. Beginning the daunting trek toward your assignment, you remind yourself of two things:

1) Don’t ask about his father 

2) Don’t ask about what happened in Hawkins, Indiana in 1986

The first rule seemed simple enough. As far as the public was concerned, Eddie Munson came to Hawkins at the age of 12 to live with his Uncle Wayne like how a fully formed Venus sprang up from sea foam. He wasn’t and then he was. End of story. The fact that Eddie’s management went out of the way to make sure his father wasn’t brought up only made you more curious. 

The second rule was a little harder to accept. Anyone who knew anything about Eddie Munson wanted to know about 1986. Despite the fact that his highly publicized murder charges and subsequent exoneration are part of what caused Corroded Coffin to skyrocket to fame, he’s remained very tight-lipped about the whole situation. He plays off every question about it in interviews with a smirk and a sly comment. Just charming enough to get away without answering. Just vague enough to keep people guessing. Maybe his publicist wasn’t such a waste after all. 

Eddie Munson opens the door a few moments after you ring the bell. Using a ringed hand to shield his eyes from the midday sun, he squints at you. A pair of sweatpants hang low on his hips. He has a severe case of bedhead despite the fact that the time on your watch indicates that it’s nearly two in the afternoon. The confusion that draws his brows together also indicates that he has absolutely no idea who you are. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you state your name and purpose before realization graces his features. 

“It’s you! Shit, yeah! You’re here for the– the thing!” He tosses a careless look over both of his shoulders before widening the opening. “Come on in.”

Eddie closes the door behind you and rushes down the hallway in order to put some real clothes on, leaving you standing in the empty living room. The inside is surprisingly clean for someone who’s gained the reputation of being a hot mess. It smells like cigarettes, weed, and lemon pledge. The lemon scent is strongest as if someone was trying–and failing–to use it to cover up the previous two. A record player is tucked into a corner, the vinyl still spinning. A line of electric guitars is propped up against the back wall, each of them no doubt costing more than your monthly rent. One of the stands is noticeably empty and you glance to your left to see a beat-up acoustic resting on the couch. On the coffee table, there are piles and piles of scrap sheets of paper. For most of them, the handwriting is too illegible to read or it’s been crossed out. Eddie seems to write lyrics like he lives his life: fast and all over the place.

Stepping closer, something along the upper corner catches your eye. Slyly lifting up a pile of paper, being sure not to disturb the configuration, you find that your suspicions are correct. Eddie received the same copy of Sub Rosa as you did. Obviously, it didn’t go over well. He’s used a pen to black out his eyes. Much to your amusement, you see he’s also drawn horns and a tail. The hand that’s flipping off the camera is illustrated to be holding a pitchfork. 

That’s not the full extent of Eddie’s doodling, though. On the bottom right-hand corner of the magazine, there’s a smaller picture of him standing next to a certain brown-eyed beauty. You’re quick to note that he’s drawn a crude halo and angel wings on his long-legged companion. They’ve been scribbled out as an afterthought, making the halo look more like a crown of thorns. 

So, you think to yourself, he’s a little immature. You can work with immaturity. Immaturity means that he won’t be as guarded as some of the other celebrities your coworkers have had the misery of meeting. In fact, from what little you know about Eddie, you wonder if he even has any guard at all. He did leave you alone here with stacks of potential songs for his band’s next album. If you were a better journalist and a worse person, you would probably take the time to decipher his chicken scratch and see if you could glean any insights into his creative process. But you don’t. Instead, you release the stack of papers and wait. 

For a moment, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You’ve never been inside of a famous person’s house before. You’re not sure if you should sit down and make yourself comfortable or if Eddie has something else planned for the two of you to do. The specifics of your assignment were intentionally vague, most likely to accommodate Eddie’s spontaneity. 

Venturing further into the living room, you come to stand in front of a shelf. Brushing your fingers across the collection of vinyl, you tilt your head to read the names along the spines. There are the usual suspects–Dio, Metallica, and Judas Priest–but what surprises you is that, in the midst of all the metal and hard rock, there’s an array of old-school country music. At the end of the lineup is the most surprising one of them all; Sentimentally Yours by Patsy Cline. It’s exceedingly worn, cracks and creases litter the empty sleeve. If you were a betting woman, you would say that the record is currently on the player across the room.

A muffled crash followed by a string of curse words breaks you out of your reverie. Eddie opens the bedroom door with the finesse of someone who is obviously used to being the center of attention. He’s traded his sweatpants and tank top for a pair of ripped black jeans and a v-neck. It felt reassuring to know that you hadn’t underdressed for the occasion. 

It also gives you a moment to drink in the blinding light that was Eddie Munson. He’s leaner in person. Though he always looked lithe in every photograph you saw of him, his frame seemed more imposing and large. Maybe all the stars just look that way when they’re so high above you. 

He was taller, too. The boots on his feet surely aided in that, given that the soles were at least an inch thick. Still, you didn’t anticipate how much you would have to tilt your head up just to look him in the eyes. 

There, standing in Eddie Munson’s rented living room, you realize something; You’re absolutely starstruck. 

Although you had turned up your nose at the prospect of interviewing him and regarded his reputation with the same disdain you reserved for bad drivers and shitty landlords, you were still a person after all. 

With all of the stars around, it’s easy to think of Los Angeles as the center of the universe. But you are not a star or anything even close to it. You’re some space debris, hopelessly floating and waiting for something bigger to come around and influence you with its gravitational pull. 

Eddie is a heavenly body. You can’t help being pulled into his orbit. 

“So, I see you’ve found my collection.” His voice is still rough with sleep. The sound makes you weak in the knees. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to snoop.” You mumble, tucking Patsy Cline back into the shelf. “You’ve got some really good stuff here.”

“Don’t worry about it. Actually, that reminds me, I have something for you.” He swiftly turns and stalks back towards what seems to be his bedroom, motioning for you to follow him. 

The blood rushes out of your cheeks. The terms of your interview suggested that you would have a lot of access, but this was different. This was up close and personal. Your feet seem to have a mind of their own because while you’re still wrapped up in the fact that you’re gonna see Eddie Munson’s bedroom, you’re already following him down the hallway and through the open door. 

It’s about as messy as you would expect. The furniture is all pale wood and earth tones, fitting the mid-century modern stylings of the rest of the house. You suspect that Eddie took the time to clean up a little while you were rifling through the stacks of paper. The bed is haphazardly made. There’s an ashtray on his bedside table, filled with the remains of a few cigarettes. 

“I’m not supposed to smoke inside. Shh.” He brings his index finger to his mouth, pink lips barely brushing the skull ring he’s wearing. “Don’t tell anyone.”

You let out an airy laugh. Being reprimanded for smoking inside is the least of Eddie’s worries and you both know it. 

Eddie’s nimble fingers skim the top of the dresser, brushing aside even more sheets of scrap paper. A couple of guitar picks plummet to the floor, but he pays no mind. 

“I heard that metal isn’t usually your thing.” He remarks, still sifting through the clutter. 

That much is true. While you dabbled in a little bit of everything, not only as part of your job but also as part of your interest in music, metal wasn’t usually the genre you gravitated towards. In fact, the most metal album that you had listened to recently was written and produced by the man standing in front of you. 

“It’s not, but I’m open to everything.”

“Aha! Here it is.” Eddie holds up the cassette like it’s the key to the universe. Handing it to you, you can see that the writing on the sides is reminiscent of what you saw in the living room, though slightly neater. You’re familiar with some of the bands listed, but the songs don’t ring a bell. “I thought I would broaden your musical horizons.”

You gawk at him. For someone whose job is about words, you can’t find any. He took the time to make you a mixtape? 

“Track five is a personal favorite.” Eddie says, leaning towards you and tapping the tracklist, obviously unshaken by your inability to form a coherent thought. 

“Thanks. I’ll give it a listen.” You manage to choke out, tucking the cassette into the front pocket of your purse. 

Looking around the room, you see that there’s a battered copy of The Lord of the Rings on his bedside table. The corners are frayed, and you’re certain that you could accidentally tear the cover off of the paperback if you’re not careful. Cautiously, you trace the spine with your finger, waiting for Eddie to say something. To tell you that it’s the one thing that’s off limits. But he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching you. Opening it, you can see Property of Eddie A. Munson written underneath the title in a childish scrawl. 

“You like books? I mean–you’re a writer, so of course you like books–I mean, have you read that one?” Eddie is visibly flustered, the words coming out of his mouth at an alarming rate. It almost makes up for the way he rendered you speechless moments ago. 

“I’m more of a Dune girl myself. But, I love The Lord of the Rings. My dad used to read it to me before bed every night.”

“Yeah?” A small smile tugs at his lips before he practically whispers his next words. “Mine too.” 

A flash of something you can’t quite decipher crosses Eddie’s face. 

“Right! Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?” He shuffles out of the room like his life depends on it. You’re still reeling at the fact that he brought up his dad unprompted. Keeping a brisk pace, you put the book down and follow him into the kitchen.

“We have…” He trails off, opening the door to the refrigerator. “Nothing.”

He shuts the refrigerator and dashes to the table by the front door. He mumbles to himself before grabbing a few things, shrugging on a jacket, and finally turning to face you again. A pair of sunglasses covers the half of his face that isn’t plastered with a mischievous grin. From the tips of his fingers hangs a set of car keys.

“You hungry?”

–

You should’ve known that Eddie Munson would try to kill you within 20 minutes of meeting him. Lifting up the garage door, he reveals that the car keys were in fact, not car keys but keys to a motorcycle. The vehicle in question is an absolutely stunning deathtrap. It shines so beautifully that you can see your terrified face in the warped reflection. 

Putting his helmet on, Eddie straddles the bike and looks at you. 

“C’mon.” Eddie smiles wolfishly, tilting the spare helmet towards you. “I’m a safe driver. Promise.”

You’re still standing frozen. His wolfish grin melts into something more patient.

“Hey, if you don’t want to take the motorcycle, just say the word. I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.” 

Despite the sincerity in his voice, you can’t help but take the words as a challenge. 

“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You profess, though the shake in your voice is evident. Grabbing the helmet out of his hands, you ignore the way your face heats up when your fingers brush.

Eddie takes gross advantage of California’s lane-splitting laws, leaving you clinging to his leather-draped torso for dear life. Outside from the occasional shout of assurance that you can’t understand, the ride is quiet but for the roar of the bike and the wind in your ears. You’re vacillating between being absolutely terrified of crashing and secretly relieved at the fact that you didn’t have to make small talk on the drive from his place to wherever he was taking you. 

You were very close to liking Eddie Munson. Now, you were sure that he was sent as some kind of karmic punishment.

“Parking in L.A. is always a pain. That’s why I love this baby,” He gingerly pats the handles as he kicks the parking brake down. “She can fit basically anywhere.”

You hum in agreement, mostly just happy to have made it to your destination in one piece. While Eddie hops off the bike with ease, you have a little more trouble. Swinging your leg over, your toe catches on the fuel tank, causing you to stumble and nearly fall to the ground. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see that Eddie is biting back a smile. He offers a calloused hand out to you. You brush it away out of embarrassment, planting both feet firmly on the ground and taking in your surroundings. 

You had expected Eddie to take you to one of L.A.’s finer dining venues. Somewhere with fancy mood lighting and clientele with pockets so deep that they don’t even bother to put the prices on the menu. His management was footing the bill, after all. 

The building that sits before you is none of those things. The diner is old and slightly dilapidated. Graffiti mars the stucco that hasn’t already crumbled away. The neon sign that says Zazie’s! blinks drowsily, more of an eyesore than eye-catching. 

Eddie opens the door for you. As the bell above it jingles, you’re hit with a rush of conditioned air and canned nostalgia. The walls are covered in artifacts from a bygone era of poodle skirts and letterman jackets. A lonely jukebox sits in the corner, playing a soft hum to a Billie Holiday song you have long forgotten the name of. 

A plump woman sits behind the counter doing the crossword in the newspaper. Likely, the same one you were doing that morning. A thoughtful look is etched into her soft features, and you wonder if she’s also stuck on 57-down: Idle during the heist. The ten-letter space confounded you so much that you were almost late. Luckily, it doesn’t seem like Eddie is the type of person to care too much about punctuality.  At the sound of the bell, she looks up, squints, and smiles. 

“Is that you, Toto?” The glasses that sit on the tip of her nose are attached to a chain around her neck. She lets them fall to her chest, her voice bright and amiable. 

“You know it is, Dorothy!” Eddie gushed, an award-winning smile back on his face. 

They fall into easy conversation, making it obvious that he’s a regular here. You keep glancing at him trying to find hints of ingenuity but there are none. Eddie regards the woman with the warmth and respect that you would expect from a boy scout, not a rockstar. 

Sliding into a booth, Dorothy hands you both a menu and leaves to make a fresh pot of coffee. 

“You have to try the french toast, it’s divine.” Eddie barely steals a look at the laminated folder before folding it back up and putting it down on the table. 

“I’ve never really been a french toast person. I don’t know if I wanna risk it.”

Eddie gives you a pointed look, sunglasses slipping down the slope of his nose. “You rode a motorcycle. How much more risky is a plate of french toast?”

“Maybe that was all the risk-taking I had in me for one day.” You force yourself to shrug noncommittally. You don’t know why breakfast food is the hill you’ve chosen to die on, but you’re going down swinging.

“Well, you already trusted me with your life.” Eddie takes the sunglasses off and tucks his fist under his chin, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. “Think you can trust me with this?”

Suddenly, all of the fight in you disappears. There’s that sincerity in his voice again. You realize then that the best and worst thing about Eddie Munson is how genuine he always sounds.  

“Yeah, I do.”

The smile on his face is so bright that you feel compelled to look away. Eddie orders for both of you. It’s enough food to feed a small army, but it seems that Dorothy is used to it because she leaves the table with a wink and says if y’all need anything just holler! 

“Do you mind?” You say, pulling out the notepad and pen from your purse. 

Eddie freezes for a fraction of a second. It’s almost imperceptible. Almost. In the small amount of time you’ve known him, it has become abundantly clear that Eddie wears his heart on his sleeve. Recovering quickly, he gives you the go-ahead and smiles. For the first time today, his grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“So,” You begin, clicking the button on your ballpoint. “I have to ask. Toto?”

Eddie barks out a laugh. He goes on a whole spiel about how he was having a terrible day and walked into the diner feeling homesick and hungry. When he first came to L.A. he felt like Dorothy stepping into the technicolor world of Oz. Once the novelty wore off, he found himself missing when the world used to be so black and white. Upon telling the wise waitress, aptly named Dorothy, she lovingly told him, Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore. The nickname stuck ever since.

The story almost sounds rehearsed. A perfect sound bite that shows how you can take the boy out of the Midwest, but you can’t take the Midwest out of the boy. And yet, you feel inclined to believe him. Eddie just seems to have that effect on people. 

The food finally arrives and you’re amazed to find that Eddie’s eyes are not bigger than his stomach. He talks about music and his band in between bites of pancakes and hashbrowns, both of them drowned in an inch of syrup. He speaks of his friends back in Indiana with a certain fondness, but you can’t help but notice how avoids naming his hometown. He also never refers to Hawkins as back home, instead saying where I’m from.

Conversation between the two of you flows as easily as the never-ending coffee from Dorothy’s pot. It’s almost too easy to forget that this is an interview. Remembering yourself, you take a moment to ask Eddie one of the harder-hitting questions you have in your back pocket.

“What about Evelyn Chau?”

Eddie winces. The open book that was sitting before you shuts tight with a resilient slam. The mouthful of pancakes and syrup seems to turn to sludge as his chewing slows. Despite having no regard for table manners earlier, he points at his lips and holds up a finger to indicate that he needs a minute to swallow. 

After taking a sip of coffee and wiping his mouth with a paper napkin, he slouches in his seat and crosses his arms defensively. 

“What about Evelyn Chau?” He repeats your question back to you but with an unmistakable air of forced nonchalance. 

You want to crumble under his pointed gaze, but you don’t. You steel yourself with the reminder that asking uncomfortable questions is part of your job description. Besides, it would raise many more alarms if you didn’t ask about the raven-haired model spotted painting the town with him than if you did. 

“Everyone wants to know if you’re together.”

“Everyone.” He exaggerates the word, using his index finger to trace the lip of his coffee cup. “Does that include you?”

The smirk on his face indicates that he’s either messing with you or flirting with you. Maybe both. 

“Well,” you demure. “are you?”

“Evie is just a friend.” Eddie’s still perfectly composed, but the familiarity with which he says her nickname betrays him. His face twitches when he catches his slip-up. “A really close friend.”

It’s already too late. He couldn’t convince you that she was just a friend if he tried. A flash of a crossed-out halo and crooked angel wings comes to mind. 

You’re about to ask him another question, but Dorothy and her impeccable timing interrupts the moment by placing the check on the table. Eddie throws down a few bills from an old leather wallet, while you’re trying to figure out how you can spin a two-hour diner date into an entire article. 

Eddie stretches as he stands up, the hem of his black v-neck raises to expose a tattoo on his right hip that snakes down further than you’re supposed to look. On the other side, you catch a muddled array of purple and red scar tissue. Averting your eyes, you look up and are met with a stony gaze. He caught you staring.

“What do you say we get outta here?”

Because you’re a very stupid, stupid woman, you agree.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

taglist: @twisted-wonderland-of-wren

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #mimi wrote ✍️ #can i ask you a question?

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 11/12)

gasp she's finally here !!!

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: the last day of tour has arrived and you're pushed to make a difficult choice

contains: enemies to lovers trope, alcohol consumption, smoking, sexual themes, mentions of oral, angst, and more glimpses of eddie being boyfriend coded <3

word count: 6k

| previous part | next part |

| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

song inspo for this chappy, thx to my stink @mmunson86 ily hehe:

Sunday mornings are meant for being lazy.

You wake up, you toss around in bed for a bit, maybe turn on the TV, and order food if you’re at a nice hotel like you are now— which had been your plan. You had wanted to try the strawberry crepes here for ages, and you planned to finally order it to start the last day of your short-lived tour on the right foot— but apparently, someone doesn’t believe in the mainstream concept of Sunday morning.

It’s seven in the morning when you get a knock on your door. You want to ignore it— and you have every intention to do so— except the person at the door is incessant and apparently doesn’t get the hint of silence.

It makes sense, though, when you open the door to see who is banging on your door like a madman. Eddie, of course. 

“Housekeeping!”

He’s got a cute, wide smile and damp curls that make your chest flutter even though you still have one foot in a dream. Although, you think the dream might be the man standing before you, clad in jeans and a graphic tee, and beaming at you.

“Eddie, it’s seven in the morning.” You grumble.

Eddie’s smile widens, “I know. Perfect time for a walk in the park.” He says before pushing past you and walking into your room. Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him walk over to your window and open the blinds. You rapidly blink at the sunlight, “I– what? A walk?”

Eddie turns to you, smiling still as he nods, “Yes. Down at Central Park. They’ve always got cute dogs down there, and I know a place with pancakes to die for.”

You’re too tired to even wrap your mind around how cute of an image Eddie with dogs would be, “Woah… woah, woah, wait— Eddie, I— I would love to,” you blink hard, “But I’m still half asleep, and I only got to bed like four hours ago, so I think I’d pass out on a walk right now.” You softly laugh.

You feel a twinge of guilt stir in your gut, so you step forward to Eddie, reaching out to rest a hand on his bicep and gently squeeze, “Why don’t we order coffee up and sit on the balcony until my mind warms up a bit?” You offer.

Which, now that you think of it, was a perfect idea because there’s a cool breeze this morning that gives you an excuse to press up against Eddie’s side and curl into the heat of him as you sip on warm coffee and watch Eddie burn through cigarettes. Eddie was bold enough to drag your legs to rest across his lap, and you decide to blame your compliance on lack of sleep rather than desire.

“Are you nervous for tonight?” You wonder aloud, watching as the morning sun cracks through his fluttering eyelashes. Eddie’s lips pull into a smile, “No.” He leans into you, “Are you?”

You snort, pressing your fingers into the warm ceramic mug, “Why would I be nervous?”

Eddie shrugs, “Maybe I’ve got a surprise up my sleeve or something.” He teases. His fingers are warm and send goosebumps across your skin as they dance across your leg, inching up your thigh until you slightly squirm. Eddie doesn’t even try to hide the smirk on his lips.

You ignore his wandering hands as best as you can, although the lick of heat that runs up your spine when he fiddles with the hem of your baggy shirt sends your mind spinning, a dull throb of your center when his knuckles brush the crease of your hip. You raise an eyebrow, gazing at him and cocking your head to the side, “Well, do you?”

Eddie glances at you, busy drawing stars inside your thighs, “No.”

You roll your eyes, shoving your foot into his jean-clad thigh as he barks out a laugh, hands squeezing your bare calves. “That’s not funny, Munson. You’re on probation, you know?”

Eddie tilts his head, dreamy gaze in his eyes as he gently squeezes your calves, “I know. I’m working on it, though… which reminds me—” You take a deep breath, slinking your legs out of his grip and sitting up straight to stretch, “Think I’m in the mood for those pancakes now.” You hum.

Eddie gazes at you, jaw loose as he watches you stand up and completely dodge what he’s been spinning out about for the last twenty-four hours. “Birdie—” “Yeah, I’m starving now that I think of it. Let’s go.” You wrap your fingers around his wrist and tug him up, ignoring his grumbles of protest.

It should be studied, the pull Eddie has on you, because here you both are in a booth at an old breakfast diner, and all you can think about is how you want nothing more than to slink over to the other side and burrow yourself in the warmth of his embrace.

But Eddie’s friends are here.

The entire ensemble: Nancy, Robin, Steve, Gareth, Jeff, and even Eric, who you hardly even see because he’s the busiest with groupies out of the Corroded Coffin band.

They caught you and Eddie on your way down to the lobby, and well… they just tagged along. Eddie wasn’t so happy about it, mumbling about how he can never shake these assholes, but you just snickered and told him to be nice.

So, now, you’re sitting across from Eddie in a diner with the smell of pancakes and maple syrup wafting through the air and a friendly chatter ringing throughout the table.

You try your hardest to pay attention to the conversations, but it’s hard when Eddie is glancing at you with these eyes that melt your insides. It doesn’t help when he leans forward on the table, shoulders pressing into the edge as his fingers skim your knee beneath it. You raise an eyebrow when he takes a menu, opens it, and stands it up to block the view of his friends as he beckons you forward. You lean forward, chest fluttering at the sight of Eddie’s pretty eyes so up close, pouty lips and curly hair that you want to reach out and card your fingers through. He’s a dream, no doubt about it.

“Let’s ditch them.”

You snort, rolling your eyes, “You can’t ditch your friends, Eddie.”

Eddie makes a face, “Why not? They crashed, and I have work to do.”

You tilt your head in confusion, “Work?”

Eddie grumbles, his voice carrying an obvious tone, “Yeah, I’ve only got until tonight to pay my dues.” He reminds you. You hum with a teasing glint, “I reckon that’s a fault on your part, Munson.”

Before Eddie can respond, the menu is torn out of his hands to reveal Gareth and Jeff snickering, “You do know we can still see you two, right?” Eric teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “I don’t know if you dipshits got the memo, but you definitely weren’t invited to this.”

You giggle, nudging your foot against his shin, “Don’t be rude,” You mumble. “Yeah, Eddie, don’t be rude.” Robin teases. 

Eddie grumbles, ignoring his snickering friends as he stands up, “All of you can fuck right off.” He sticks up a decorated middle finger to his table of friends, and you smile as you slide out of the booth, warmth spreading through your body when he reaches around to grab your sweater. 

“Oh, come on, we were just joking, Eds!”

Eddie waves them off, slinking an arm around your body to rest a hand on the small of your back, gently ushering you toward the exit as his friends create a scene.

“Hey, don’t be late to soundcheck, asshole, we won’t hear the end of it from Richie!” Jeff calls out, but Eddie doesn’t answer because he’s walking you both outside of the diner and muttering something about them being a pain in his ass.

“We could just take a flight out somewhere far away from them, princess. Say the word, and I’ll book it.” Eddie jokingly offers. You smile as you take your sweater from him with a small thanks, “They love you. That’s a good thing to have.” You remind him. Eddie rolls his eyes, scratching at the back of his neck as you begin walking down the street, “Sure, except not when I have important things to do. Which, when are you gonna put me out of my misery and tell me what you think?”

You hum, feing ignorance as you blink up at Eddie, “Think about what, Eddie?” 

Eddie stares at you, blinking once before his lips spread into a smile, “You’re lucky you’re pretty.” He teasingly says through gritted teeth, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you in as he jokingly presses his palm to your face, laughing as you squeal and squirm in his hold. “Eddie Munson thinks I’m pretty. How cute.” You mock as you grapple at his wrist, prying his hand from your face, “Only took him a month to figure that out.”

Eddie laughs, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, sweetheart,” He drawls, “I always knew you were pretty. I never thought you weren’t pretty. Who told you that?” “Nobody told me that; you just,” you shrug, “Kind of hated my guts, so it went hand in hand.”

Eddie’s eyes soften at that, and your cheeks warm as his gaze zones in on you. You clear your throat, glancing away, “Are we going to eat or what, Munson? I told you I’m starving, and you just dragged me out of that diner, so.” 

Eddie nods, “Yeah, yeah,” He waves before lacing his fingers with yours to drag you along, “I got a place in mind; let’s go.”

“If you wanted strawberries on your pancakes, then you should’ve asked for them.”

Eddie, you are learning, has sticky fingers. Sticky in the metaphorical sense where he just takes things without asking and sticky in the literal sense where he keeps reaching over to steal strawberries from your plate and ends up dipping his fingers in your maple syrup as well.

He’s like a child for fucks sake! Touching things he shouldn’t be touching and grinning at you with a ‘you can’t do anything about it because I’m cute’ glint in his eyes.

You watch as Eddie sucks the syrup off his thumb and smirks at you as he says, “Sharing is caring, you know?”

You look at his plate, tilting your head with a smirk before asking, “Yeah? Then can I have your hash browns?” Eddie glances at his plate, a frown spreading across his lips as he looks at you, “But there’s barely any left.” He points out.

Your eyebrows raise, and he sighs in defeat, cutting into his hash browns to give you half of it. You snicker as he carefully reaches over to put the side dish on your plate, pursing your lips to hold a laugh when you look up at him. “What’s so funny?” He grumbles, stabbing into his food and shoving a fork full into his mouth.

“Nothing. I just, like, hate hash browns.”

Eddie stops midchew, looking up at you for a brief moment. He’s silent as he resumes chewing his food and swallowing, quietly eyeing you for a moment before clearing his throat. “You hate hash browns?” He asks.

You nod as you take a bite of your eggs, and Eddie looks at you like you just told him something concerning. “I—... what do you mean you hate hash browns? Do you like potatoes?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your drink, “Sure.”

“Do you like fries?”

“I love fries.”

“Tater tots?”

“I like them every now and then,” You shrug.

Eddie’s head cocks in confusion, eyes narrowing, “So what’s the problem with hash browns?”

Your eyebrows raise, and an amused smile spreads across your lips, “Holy shit. I’m getting the sense that you might, I don’t know… love hash browns or something?”

Eddie scoffs, “Of course I fucking love hash browns. Are you fucking kidding me? Who doesn’t like hash browns?”

“Tommy Lommi.”

“Well then, they’re fucking weird— wait…” Eddie blinks at you and stares like you’ve just discovered time travel. “What do you mean, Tommy Lommi? How do you know Tommy Lommi hates hash browns?”

You shrug, “Ate breakfast with the band a few years ago. They gave him hash browns, and he returned the entire plate. A lot of people hate hash browns, Eddie.”

Eddie waves a hand in dismissal, scooting closer to the table as he responds in a hurried and amused tone, “You had breakfast with Black fucking Sabbath?” He exclaims.

You hold back a smile as you blink at the man before you, his brown eyes wide and blown from adrenaline, “Yeah, it— it was, like, a work thing. I was doing a short piece on them, so Anna and I had lunch with them and their manager.” At the mention of your manager's name, you make a mental note to call and update her on your piece.

Eddie raises two hands to his head, grasping his hair like he’s in distress, as he lets out a loud sound, drawing attention. You giggle, reaching out to grab his wrist and lower him back down to the table, “Eddie, you’re making a scene—” “You met Ozzy, and you just, like, casually forgot to mention that to me? Like he’s not my idol? Like he’s not my literal lord and savior? Do you even care about me?” He exclaims in a loud voice. 

Your eyes widen in amusement as the man practically spins out right in front of you. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think it— wait, haven’t you met him before? Like on a red carpet or something?”

Eddie scoffs, leaning back into the booth and pulling a face like the words you’ve just said are rubbish. “Yeah, right. Like Ozzy Osborne would willingly surround himself with a bunch of untrained nuts like the boys of Corroded Coffin. He’s a professional, Birdie. That’s an insult.”

You giggle, gently nudging your plate away, taking a deep breath from feeling so full as you shrug, “Maybe if you cleaned up your act, it would happen.” You teasingly say.

Eddie looks at you, runs his eyes over your face, and smirks as he folds his arms over his chest, reaching up with one hand to twirl a piece of his hair between his fingers. “Yeah? And how do you suggest we do that?” He slinks his feet forward, gently tapping his shoe against yours before hooking an ankle around yours.

You hum, “I don’t know. Maybe cut back on the parties. Less reckless act and more calculated rockstar. Less groupies… none, if that.” You mutter the last part, and Eddie snickers. He hums as well, tipping his head side to side as if he’s thinking, “And would you say maybe,” He clears his throat, “Like, a girlfriend would do good as well?”

You huff out a laugh, “Nice try, Munson.” You snicker. “You’re far from girlfriend status with me.” 

Eddie lowly hums, taking a deep breath as he shifts in his seat, “Yeah, well, I intend on changing that, so, are you done eating?”

Eddie’s sure that Richie will chew him out.

It’s the last day of tour before the next leg starts in a month, and Eddie is almost an hour late to soundcheck. Richie was adamant about being on schedule for today because it’s the last show, and Richie’s a goddamn perfectionist (who would take on the job of managing a group of rowdy rockstars if they have the personality of a fucking sergeant?). But honestly, Eddie doesn’t have a single bone in him that cares because— well, why would he care when he’s spent all day with you practically pressed into his side? 

You’re Eddie’s every dream compacted into the cutest, kindest, prettiest human he’s ever fucking known, and Eddie keeps having these moments where he wants to smash his head through a brick wall for ever letting a cruel word form on his tongue towards you. He would pay an endless amount of money to rewind time and do it over again, do it right, and give you the respect you deserve.

Then maybe you would stop dodging his kisses.

“Come on, just one?” He begs, watching as you walk a few steps ahead of him. Eddie won’t lie; it’s a great view he’s got from behind. You’re wearing these black ripped jeans that hug your ass and thighs so perfectly Eddie wants nothing more than to sink his teeth into you.

You shake your head, “Nope. A kiss has never been a kiss with you, and I’m not too keen on giving Richie more reasons to put me in time-out. You’re also definitely still on probation.”

Eddie grunts, “This is just cruel, sweetheart.”

He jogs a bit to catch up to speed with you, “While we’re on the topic, what’d he say to you?”

You glance at Eddie, brows furrowing, “Who? Richie?”

Eddie nods, and you shrug. “I assume the same thing he told you. Told me to hold off on it until the magazine blows over in the fanbase.”

Eddie hums because, well, that’s not what Richie told Eddie. Actually, Richie told Eddie to just forget it, don’t even attempt to do anything with that woman because when you fuck up, I’m gonna be the one left to clean it up. And isn’t that Richie’s fucking job? Isn’t that precisely why Richie was hired? To clean up the boys’ mess and make their appearance seem squeaky clean. 

“I don’t blame him, though.” 

Eddie’s neck practically snaps in your direction, and he has to stop you from walking any further down the backstage hallways because what the fuck are you saying right now?

“What do you mean?”

You shrug, glancing up at Eddie, “I mean, he’s just doing his job, Eddie. He’s trying to protect your image, and, honestly, I didn’t understand where he was coming from until he pointed out that I’m still practically press in the eyes of the industry, so.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Eddie snaps. Doesn’t mean to snap, really. Doesn’t mean to have a harsh tone or sound upset with you because he’s not. He’s upset with the situation and the absolute mess he’s created from having his head up his ass for so long. He’s upset because he doesn’t want to wait until the magazine blows over. He’s upset because he’s finally admitting to what he wants, and you’re right there, and he wants to work on getting you but fucking Richie— jesus christ, Eddie’s going to choke that bastard.

“That doesn’t even fucking make sense,” Eddie exclaims, “I already fucked up. There’s not much to fuck up at this rate.”

“It’s different when there’s feelings involved, Eddie.” And Eddie doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that you sound as if you’re siding with Richie, and he doesn’t like that you’re using your hot ass journalist tone with him. “What difference does it make?” Eddie stresses.

“Because shit could hit the fan. Things could go bad again, and, in Richie’s eyes, I could easily become an enemy. It’s a rational call to make.”

No.

No, no, no, this isn’t what Eddie wants, and it’s not how Eddie wants you picturing what you two could be— a disaster. 

Eddie blinks, heart pounding in his chest because god, he wants you and he’s scared he’s lost you before even getting the chance to fix things. “So… is that— is that what you want? To wait?”

You gaze up at Eddie, “I— no?”

Eddie frowns, stomach churning as you look away to avoid his gaze, “That didn’t sound confident. You don’t want to do this?”

“It’s… That’s not what I’m saying. I just— I’m not quite sure where this is aiming.”

“What do you mean? I told you how I feel.”

You make an exasperated noise, stepping out from the wall Eddie had you caged against, “No, you haven’t told me how you feel. You’ve told me what you want. That’s not enough.”

And you’re looking at Eddie with these eyes that make him want to crack open his chest and let you see it for yourself because fuck, the only time Eddie has ever confessed his feelings to someone, she ended up breaking his heart without a single care in the world.

And for this entire month, you’ve been slipping from Eddie’s hands, but this is the time that he’s actually felt it. He feels dizzy and sick and so angry with himself.

“I— well, how do you feel?” Eddie asks.

It’s like time slows as you gaze up at Eddie, eyes filled with so many words and uncertainty that Eddie has only himself to blame for. “I don’t know.” You softly reply.

Eddie says nothing as he stares back, gently nodding as you slink your arms around yourself, “I don’t know, Eddie. I’m… I don’t know this side of you— and that’s not to say I don’t like or want it, but— but what happens when we get bored without the chase?” 

Eddie’s heart breaks. 

“When?”

Your eyes fall shut, and you shake your head, “That’s not what I meant–” “But that’s what you said.”

“Yes, but I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. You know what I mean, Eddie.”

Eddie scoffs as he steps back, “No, Birdie, honestly, I don’t. I’m actually, like, really fucking confused right now.”

Your face twists in defense and your eyes glint with something that Eddie can’t quite put his finger on, and it makes him want to scream. “You seriously can’t be upset with me for being hesitant on this, Eddie.”

Eddie looks at you, pauses, and holds his breath before shaking his head, “No, I’m—” He steps forward, “I’m sorry. I’m not upset.”

Your lips are pulled into a frown as Eddie reaches out to softly skim his knuckles across your elbow, silently asking for you to stay open for him. “I’m not upset with you.” He repeats. 

You don’t step closer or move away, and Eddie takes that as a win either way. But before either of you can say anything else, Eddie is being whisked away with his assistant and promising to finish the conversation afterward.

You don’t see Eddie for the rest of the day, and for the first time, it’s not Eddie’s fault but yours.

You regret to admit that the small dispute you and Eddie had caused you to spiral within your thoughts, and you spent most of the day holed up in your room packing, writing, pacing, and thinking until you exhausted yourself. On a good note, though, the day passes quickly, and before you know it, you’re making your way down the Madison Square Garden backstage halls.

You’ve walked these halls enough to know your way around by heart now, so you don’t have trouble finding the dressing room. The usual small group of ladies that stand outside are there in their Sunday best for the show finale, passing a blunt between each other— and you don’t even notice the missing leader of the group until she’s storming out of the room.

“Fuck you, Eddie!” She turns to yell into the room. You watch from a few feet away, stunned and slightly terrified. She’s beautiful, even as mad as she is now; her red hair is styled in bouncy curls that jump and jolt with each wave of her hand, her heeled boots clicking on the ground with each stomp of her heel. She steps into the room, pointing at someone who you can only assume to be Eddie, but the door obstructs your view, “I knew you before you had a single fucking dime! If you think for one second she’s gonna stick with you through all of your bullshit rock and roll facade, then you’re wrong!” She snaps.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kenny, please get rid of her.” You hear the familiar grumble of Eddie’s voice. Kenny, the security guard by the door, steps forward and ushers the angry woman away from the threshold. “Don’t fucking touch me.” She snatches her arm from his hold, and Kenny lifts a hand in surrender, “Look, I’m gonna have to get you banned from the building if you don’t leave. Make my job easier, please.” Kenny replies in a bored tone.

The girl scoffs with a roll of her eyes before turning around and storming down the hall, her posse quickly trotting behind.

You don’t hear the usual chatter in the dressing room, so you’re slightly suspicious as you walk up, kindly smiling towards Kenny as he lets you in. The door shuts behind you, and you take in the empty room, void of the usual hustle of band members and staff. 

“Kenny, I swear to god, if it’s another groupie, I’m gonna fire you.” You hear Eddie say from the ensuite restroom. Eddie doesn’t notice you as he walks into the room, busy ruffling his hair up for the show and walking toward the vanity, “I already told you who to let in.” 

Finally, Eddie lifts his head, a cigarette hanging from his lips as his eyes brighten when he sees you through the vanity mirror. You smile, shifting in your spot as Eddie whips around to look at you, “Hi.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as he takes in the view, eyes raking over your body as he blindly snuffs out his cigarette on the wooden vanity, face stunned as he walks over to you, “What the fuck?” He lowly says.

He’s reaching out to loop his fingers around your wrist and bring you closer, eyes traveling further and further down your frame, “What the fuck?” He repeats.

“Eddie,” You groan. “Where the fuck have you been hiding this, princess?” He exclaims.

“It’s nothing. Stop.” You grumble, but Eddie only shakes his head, “Nothing? Are you insane?” He steps back, hand wrapped in yours as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, “Let me look at you, come on.”

Your dress is black, tight, and form-fitting, with an off-the-shoulder neckline and a puffy lace hem matching the long sleeves' scrunchie endings. Two thin black straps hug your shoulders, tauntingly digging into your collarbones. The dress stops just above the middle of your thigh, leaving little to the imagination—- much in Eddie’s favor. Below the dress peeks out a black garter belt, two shiny silver clips winking at Eddie as they hold up your black thigh-high stockings. Your feet are held in shiny black stilettos. Sex.

Eddie nearly whimpers.

Eddie wants to sink to his knees, push up the skirt of your dress, and stuff his face between your legs. He wants to make you cum on his tongue until you’re pushing him away and begging for a break. Wants to feel the nylon stretch of your stockings scratching up against his ears as your legs clamp around his head. God, Eddie wants it, he wants it so fucking bad.

You smell sweet and taste even sweeter when Eddie presses his lips to yours, practically swallowing you whole— he would if he had the choice. Your lips split into a smile against Eddie’s, breathily laughing as he blindly leads you to the vanity, walking until he feels your body softly thud against the counter.

“Jesus. I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it,” Eddie grumbles against your lips, sloppy and wet, as he trails down to your jaw, neck, and collarbones. His hands are greedy as they grapple at your hips, squeezing the thicker parts to tilt you towards him, groaning when your pelvis drags against his quickly hardening length. You pant his name, one hand dropping to steady yourself against the counter as the other hand sinks into his damp, curly strands. Eddie groans, stuffing his face into your neck, licking and biting as he grinds you against him. You’re all whiney breaths and moans, and Eddie just can’t help himself when he nudges his nose against the strap of your dress before sticking his tongue out and dragging it up the length of the flimsy black piece.

Your head drops back, chest rising and falling with a sinful glisten under the vanity lights as Eddie drags his tongue all the way from your shoulder to your chin before smashing his lips back onto yours, fingers curled around the base of your neck. Wet, hot, and heavy.

Your lips curl against Eddie’s mouth, hips grinding against him, “S-should I be concerned about the angry woman that just stormed out of here?” You lowly ask.

Eddie laughs, smearing his lips against yours, teasingly flicking his tongue into your mouth, “Definitely not. Good fucking riddance.” Eddie can’t wait to tell you all about how he learned about Lany’s money-greedy actions that led him to the page of every tabloid with a false girlfriend.

You fail terribly to hold the snort that rises in your throat, and Eddie cuts it off with his mouth, swallowing your hums as he presses his body into yours. 

“Want you.” Eddie needily whispers. You whine, fingers curling against Eddie’s roots to draw a throaty groan from him. “Need to have you, baby—” “I— wait, wait, wait.” Your hands are pressing against Eddie’s shoulders, and god, Eddie feels lightheaded as he pulls away, blown-out eyes blinking down at you.

You huff, squirming against the counter, breath heavy and bated as you reach down to tug your dress down, “We need to talk.” 

Eddie swallows, running a hand through his hair as he gazes at you— and fuck, he’s so hard, and you’re so pretty, and Eddie thinks he might bust just looking at you.

Still, Eddie blinks through the thick fog of arousal and nods, taking a moment to not-so-discreetly adjust himself within his pants. 

Ever the gentleman, Eddie offers you the seat at the vanity, but you only shake your head, and well— fuck, Eddie just wants to get back to kissing you so he doesn’t fight it. He hops up onto the chair and gazes at you as you lean back against the vanity, fingers fidgeting with one another.

You’re avoiding Eddie’s gaze, and Eddie doesn’t like it very much, so he distracts himself by lighting a cigarette, but it does little to aid him in distraction when the words slip from your mouth.

“I think we need time away from each other.”

Eddie’s looking at you like you just told him you killed his dog, and you hate that you start feeling as if you’re wrecking everything when you know— when you both know— this is the best thing for the future.

The unlit cigarette between Eddie’s lips is removed and tossed to the side as he blinks at you, shaking his head with a confused and hurt expression, “W–what do you mean?”

You slink your arms across your body from instinct, mentally pushing yourself to stand on the rocky island you’ve built— because even though you want nothing more than to cave and throw yourself into Eddie’s arms and start over, it’s not right. You didn’t start on a good note, and it’s unfair to yourself or Eddie to avoid fully acknowledging that just because of your intense pull toward one another. You both need time.

“I don’t understand.”

“Just so we can have the space to figure out what we want and need from each other, you know?”

Eddie runs a hand over his face, “Is this about what happened earlier? Because I was being an asshole, I know, and I’m sorry, but just give me a chance–” You shake your head, stepping closer to Eddie and running your fingers over his wrists, “No. No, that’s not what this is about— I mean, it might’ve spurred it on, but it was on my mind before that.”

Eddie’s face twists in defeat, “I want to fix what I did, baby, just give me a chance.” 

You push his long bangs from his eyes, “I am, Eddie. I promise I am. But I need space— we need space.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at you, and your heart aches. “Everything’s been so quick, Eddie. It’s only been a month, and there’s been so many emotions—”

“That’s bullshit, Birdie, and you know it.”

You tense at his harsh tone, “Excuse me?”

“You said when,” He reminds you, “When you get bored. You really expect me to believe you ‘just want space’? You’re scared.” 

Your eyebrows dip in anger then, eyes narrowing at the man in front of you as your chest tightens, “And you’re not?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, ringed hands flailing in exasperation. “Yes, I’m fucking scared, obviously. I never would’ve fucked up this bad if I wasn’t scared.”

Your eyes are brimmed with tears, and you’re beginning to think maybe you shouldn’t have even come tonight. Maybe you should’ve just left without a single word and made Eddie hate you all over again. At least the foundations of your relationship were solid and clearly stated then.

How could everything have gotten so confusing in such little time?

Eddie notices your shifting demeanor and breathes, rubbing his eyes and smudging his eyeliner. You fight the instinct to reach out and fix it for him. “Okay, so… you want time apart.”

You nod, fingers twisting amongst themselves. Eddie turns his rings around his knuckles as silence cracks down on you both. Eddie swallows, eyes catching yours for a split moment, “Okay.” He nods.

You want to sink your hands into his and tell him you’re hurting just as much, wanting him just as much, but if you touch him now, you’re afraid you’ll never let go.

“It’ll be good, Eds.” You softly say.

The curtain of his hair obstructs Eddie’s face, but through the tiny windows, you can see the twitch of pain that flashes across his features. “Are you staying for the show?” He asks, eyes trained on his busy fingers, rings glistening in the lights. God, you want to give in to him so badly.

You shift in your spot, clearing your throat and blinking away tears, “I’ll never leave if I do…”

As if on cue, Kenny opens the door and pokes his head into the room, calling for Eddie to notify him of the running clock. You and Eddie only speak through gazes for a split moment, and you both know if he stays any longer, neither will leave this room. You only have enough strength to nod towards the door.

You can’t even watch Eddie leave. Because watching Eddie go seems to be the recurring theme of the month— but now, you’re sending him away— and it hurts. You were so close yet so far away from justice.

The dressing room is vast and holds Eddie's phantom presence and smell, and you can’t seem to hold the silent tears that end up soaking your cheeks. You can hear the distant screaming of fans, the loud booming of the opening to a song, and deep down, you understand that if you don’t leave now, you’ll end up in the crowd, there’s no doubt.

You don’t recognize the opening song for tonight, but you hear the words and Eddie’s voice crystal clear— tugging you back with every step you take towards the arena's door.

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost

I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home

Cross your heart and hope to die

Promise me you'll never leave my side

…..

So, you can drag me through hell

If it meant I could hold your hand

I will follow you, 'cause I'm under your spell

And you can throw me to the flames

I will follow you, I will follow you

The song echoes in your mind from the time the door slams shut to the moment you step into your cold apartment in Michigan, and it never stops.

————

part twelve

————

a/n: OHHH PLS DONT HATE ME IT HAD TO BE DONE AND IM SORRY THIS IS ON NEW YEARS EVE !!! these two will be back for one more round of fun in 2024. ok let me shut up before i start saying all my sob shit

as always, thank u for reading if you've made it this far and i appreciate any feedback, ILY AND I HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A BEAUTIFUL NEW YEARS, STAY SAFE PLS <3

————

cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @ye0nvibezzn @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner @catherinnn @mossiswriting @kellsck @joannamuns9n @siriuslysmoking

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie x reader #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson headcanon #eddie x fem!reader #stranger things au #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader #journalist!reader #Spotify

[curiositydooropened]

Wedding Season

The sweet tang of champagne lingered on the breeze. Strangers laughed and danced. The setting sun kissed the skies pink. Satin and taffeta draped over every curve, every seat, every brick and stone. Officially, it's wedding season. 🥂💍

This is my summer celebration!!! I was inspired by a few writers on this site who are doing season-long fic celebrations, and I knew I had to get on board. How better than with a set of angsty and steamy fics about the ups and downs of wedding season!?

The Fics:

A French Affair • Robin x Harrington!Reader • The south of France was an idyllic location for any wedding, and it's made even better when you arrive early and meet a beautiful girl at a night club. Only, when your cousin introduces you to his best friend the next day, you realize your one-night fling might have become a sticky situation. Coming 6/22

Have Mercy • Rockstar!Eddie x Reader • A look back on the events that led to your perfect Little White Chapel wedding to the man of your dreams.

Friend or Faux • Nancy x Reader • When investigative journalist Nancy Wheeler gets handed a fluff piece about wedding season, she does her damndest to find the seedy side of the industry. Only problem is, she needs a fiancée. That's where you come in.

Sabrina • Steve x Reader • Your father was his chauffeur for your entire life, and you watched all the galas and events from the tree outside. One year, during an extravagant wedding, you’re caught by the neighbor boy of your dreams.

.

..

🥂💍✨

#stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #robin buckley #wedding season #summer fic

[cacoetheswriting]

celebrity skin. (part six)

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x popstar!fem!reader word count: 6.2k summary: moving on is not as easy as it may seem. unless, of course, revenge is in the mix.

a/n: this chapter also features steve harrington x popstar!fem!reader

content warnings: 18+, minors dni: suggestive & mature themes, adult language, post-breakup emotional hurt / very little comfort, minor use of pet names, mentions of recreational alcohol & drug consumption — if i missed anything in this chapter, pls let me know!

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

celebrity skin. masterlist

Falling in love was not nearly as magical as you grew up to believe. 

Turns out, not everyone is as lucky as your parents. Not everyone gets to find the person they want to be with and just live out the rest of their time together, just like that. No muss, no fuss… no pain.

And recently, all you’ve felt was pain. 

Heartbreak caused by the man that’s done it before. You should’ve been smarter than to let him do it a second time, but lost in the chocolate of his eyes and the softness of his skin, you believed in the love you so desperately craved since you were a kid. You believed in his love. Believed he wouldn’t hurt you again, simply because he promised he wouldn’t. Hushed mantras in between the kisses he trailed along your jawline. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever been,” he’d repeat like a prayer. In reality, a fool is what he made you.

For the whole world to see at that.

ANOTHER ONE BITES THE DUST

EVEN HONESTY COULDN’T KEEP THEM TOGETHER

WHY HEAVEN AND HELL DON’T MIX

The list of borderline patronising, and also rather sexist, articles on the downfall of your short-lived relationship with the Corroded Coffin frontman haunted you for months. It didn’t help that they were all lies. Figments of journalistic imagination that only had one thing in common: you were nothing but a lovesick girl, and Eddie ever the conqueror of Hollywood’s elite. Gone was the title of America’s favourite popstar. Replaced instead by “Oh, you’re Eddie Munsons ex, right?”.

Your management team was scrambling to get out of this PR nightmare as quickly and effortlessly as humanly possible, because they didn’t grow your career to the superstardom level it was at, only for you to be regarded as an ex-girlfriend of someone far less popular than you. The team did everything, from pushing brand advertising campaigns forward, releasing a previously stashed single with no promotion, and even faking sightings of you with New York’s most eligible bachelors — (it was actually Val in disguise, more than willing to help). 

While all of this was going on, you resigned to rotting away in bed.

The New York apartment you called home yet again, was cold in comparison to Eddie’s mansion. Every item of furniture, every decorative piece, all carefully picked out by you back when you first bought the place, seemed out of place. No longer bringing you the intended joy. You missed the blank walls of Eddie’s living room, the feel of the hardwood floors underneath your bare feet, the once unused kitchen, his display of vintage guitars. You missed his California King. Missed the way it would form perfectly around your frame every time your head hit the pillows. Most of all, despite desperately trying not to, you fucking missed him.

Eddie Munson was your downfall, yet every fibre of your being ached to be close to him once more.

Memories of your time with the metalhead flashed before your eyes every minute of every day that’s passed since he stomped all over your heart, making it bleed. What made matters worse, you were convinced Eddie didn’t miss you, didn’t think about you nearly as much as you thought about him, if even at all.

The reality couldn’t have been more different, but you didn’t know that because the morning Eddie broke you for a second time, his actions were accompanied by a conscious decision to stay out of your life for good. It wasn’t what he wanted. He just didn’t see an alternative, your grandmother’s threat ringing in his ears as the look on your face visibly changed in front of his very eyes from awe to despair.

In the months that followed the split, Eddie also thought about you all the damn time. 

Everywhere he went, there you were. Or rather the ghost of you. A memory so vivid, he instantly felt nauseous. He screwed everything up for a second time and even if he wanted to somehow fix it, he knew the only way to do that would be by telling the truth, but even Eddie Munson wasn't an asshole enough to come between a girl and her Nana — no matter how evil the old hag was.

Instead, Eddie focused on his music. 

The resounding success that was Honesty, a song about you, performed with you, made the pretext of spending day and night at the studio a little more realistic ‘cause “the band needs a few more songs to complete the album”, he’d say to Marianne. She knew the real reason behind the hours Eddie spent locked inside the recording booth was the sudden, and by all accounts, unexplained breakdown of his relationship with you. She also knew not to say anything.

By all accounts, things were going quite smoothly for Eddie. Sure he felt like a fucking prick for hurting you the way he did — yet again — and on most days, the guilt was eating Eddie alive, but his actions, and their unfortunate consequences, fueled an endless supply of songs he couldn’t deny were about you. Songs that would undoubtedly make the album the best thing Corroded Coffin have ever released. Shit. Did that also make him selfish? He wondered if it was fair that his creativity blossomed while you were hurting. He wondered if profiting off this heartache was the right thing to do. Would it make you more mad? Would it break you even more?

Then he saw it.

MISS AMERICANA MOVES ON 

What the fuck.

-

“Did you forget that you promised to come help me shop for dresses?”

You groan at Val’s question, pulling the blankets over your head until your face is entirely hidden and a faint darkness envelops around you. This is your safe space now. This is where you wish you could stay for all eternity, but alas, the universe always seems to have other plans.

“Val,” you mumble under your breath, “I say this with all sincerity, please fuck off. I’m clearly in no shape to hold up to my promise, so just take my credit card and ask a friend to go with you instead. Please.”

She huffs, and even though you can’t see her, you know she’s rolling her eyes. Then, without skipping a beat, she does the exact opposite to what you asked her to do, opting to yank the covers off you entirely with a wicked grin. 

“I am done letting you wither away, okay?” She states, “It’s been months of self-pity and I’m fucking sick of it. Everyone is sick of it. Jesus, he broke your heart, big deal. People get their heart broken all the damn time and you don’t see them wasting away in bed.”

“Because they don’t have the privilege to.” 

It was the wrong thing to say.

“Nana calls you an ungrateful brat all the time, behind your back of course. I think you just proved her point.”

The sting of Val’s words causes you to visibly grimace, but you can’t say you didn’t deserve her hostile push back. You were acting like a brat. Saying the wrong things in the heat of the moment, you knew better than that. You were taught better than that. Just like you were also taught to uphold your promises, keep your word and do the things you said you would do. 

With an exaggerated sigh, you stand, and for the first time in months, you go get dressed in something that’s not an overpriced pyjama set. Val cheers you on, proud of  herself for being the person that could convince you to leave the confines of your apartment, even if it was only for one afternoon.

Fifth Avenue is a Manhattan staple. Stretching from Greenwich Village, where you grew up, all the way to Harlem, a secret favourite, if anyone ever asked. Personally, you opted to steer clear of Fifth Avenue as much as you could, though, being one of the most expensive shopping streets in the world, it made sense this is where Val asked Hank to escort you two. Especially, since after hours of browsing stores your little sister normally couldn’t afford on her own, your journey’s end is Saks.

“Tell me again why we’re dress shopping? You hate dresses.”

“Because, since you’ve pretty much turned yourself into a recluse, Nana asked me to join her at the upcoming charity function she’s throwing. Her one demand was that I need a dress.” Val explains, browsing through a carefully crafted selection of garments. “Preferably expensive.”

“She didn’t say anything to me,” you say, furrowing your brows.

“Like I said, recluse.”

You sigh. Nails, overdue a manicure, now at the brim of your lips, threatening to push through at any given moment. It was a bad habit. Something you’ve recently done a lot because speaking your mind clearly wasn’t good enough and only led to misfortune. This was the only way you could ease the anxiety surrounding the mess you’ve made of your life, as gross as it was.

“Well, I didn’t want Nana, or anyone else for that matter, saying I told you so, or thinking I had it coming since apparently I was the only person that had blinders on when it came to…”

His name got stuck in your throat like a bad apple. A choking hazard that brought tears to your eyes and caused your chest to heave suddenly with bated breaths. Clearly, you hadn’t gotten over him, otherwise you wouldn’t spend your days locked up in your apartment. What you didn’t realise though, was that you hadn’t said his name out loud since that fateful morning in his kitchen.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

The vile tone behind those three words rings in your ears. Of course he deserved it then, there’s no denying that. He still deserves it today. If you were ever to see him at any Hollywood function, you’d either ignore his presence entirely or greet him the same exact way you said your goodbye: “Fuck you, Eddie.”. But for a split second, you feel sad that this is the way you remember his name on your tongue.

“We wouldn’t have made you feel worse, sis.” Val says, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “What do you think of this one?” She proceeds to steer you further away from your deprecating thoughts by holding up a simple red dress. Single strap, maxi length. Exactly the opposite of her usual style, primarily because it was a dress and Val always said she’d rather be caught dead than wearing something designed to limit her movements.

“It’s gorgeous,” you compliment, “Exactly your style.”

If she detected your tiny, white lie, she didn’t say anything. Although, judging by the elated look on her face, no one's opinion really mattered anyway. Not even the one she asked for. The one from her famous older sister.

“It really is, isn’t it? I’m gonna try it on.”

Wanting to see your genuine reaction to her wearing the garment, Val asks you to momentarily join Hank, and wait outside the private dressing suite. You giggle at her, missing the fact that this was the first genuine laugh you let out since Los Angeles, and step outside the heavy door without protest.

Hank greets you with a tight lipped smile, but doesn’t say anything. He never does. You liked that about him, especially considering everyone else in your life always had too much to say. Hank’s silence was like a breath of fresh air. However, unknown to you yet, this time, Hank should have been talking, saying literally anything, repeating any old story, ‘cause then, his deep voice would mask what unfortunately catches your attention next.

It’s not really a squeal, not really a groan either. It’s honestly not really any distinct sound, just something that echoes down the hall, reaching your ears and causing Hank to stop the tune he was quietly humming. Both your heads snap in the direction of the noise, just in case it is something you should worry about, like a paparazzo that somehow snuck in, despite the heavy Saks security. Unfortunately for you, the person that comes rushing around the corner is a lot worse than any ol’ shutterbug.

Suddenly, at the end of the hallway, in all her redheaded glory, appears Max Mayfield.

Recognition feigns across her features as her movements come to a halt the second she sees you perched up against the corridor wall. Her mouth parts in shock, proving that she’s clearly just as surprised to see you here. 

Having never officially met, Max still knew exactly who you were. And not because of your fame, the articles about you and her brother. No. Judging by the look in her piercing eyes, Max knew you more intimately. She knew you from the stories that fell directly from Eddie’s lips. She knew details of your relationship that were kept secret from the public. Hell, she might’ve even known more than you.

You don’t get to ask her though. You don’t even get to say ‘hello’ because she glances behind her shoulder, your gaze following just as quickly. Holy shit, you think, knees now wobbling underneath you. If Eddie walks around that corner you might… Well, frankly, you don’t know how you’d react. You also didn’t really want to find out. Not now. Not here. Not like this.

So your fingers reach for the door handle and you’re just about to push it open, retreat back inside, when the person that’s with Max comes into view.

The disappointment that briefly rushes through you is unmatched. Even if you didn’t really want to see the rockstar, you still wished he was actually here. Instead, you’re now face to face with another brunette with hair just as wild as Eddie’s. Only his attire is different. The suit that’s perfectly tailored to his slender frame is also undoubtedly expensive. Armani, you notice.

“Jesus, when will you learn not to—”

He sees you then. The same exact look that Max is currently sporting spreads across his sharp features, so he must know you too. Difference being, you don’t know him.

“Oh shit. Sorry. We, eh, we were told no one was here.” He apologises, glancing between you and Hank, who’s posture is proper. Intimidating.

You step out in front of your bodyguard. An unspoken signal that says he doesn’t need to tell these people to get lost just yet. 

“That’s okay,” you reply to the stranger, quickly weighing your options in terms of what the next words to spill from your lips should be. One more glance in Max’s direction solidifies your decision. If her brother is going to repeatedly break your heart and get away with it, you’re going to play dumb and pretend he didn’t really matter to you.

With a polite smile and a swift extension of your hand, you introduce yourself. First to the mystery man, then to Max. The redhead is slightly more apprehensive about the hand shake, but she takes your extended fingers in hers regardless before saying her own name, as if you didn’t already know it.

The guy you now know as Steve clears his throat. 

“We’ll come back.” It’s simple. Meant to ease the awkwardness since the three of you clearly knew what — or rather, who — you had in common, but none of you seems willing to say the name aloud first.

“That’s okay,” you repeat, “Stay. We’re nearly finished anyway.”

And right on queue, Val calls your name from inside the private dressing room. You excuse yourself, leaving the two to exchange a knowing glance, and a whisper, undoubtedly about what they should do next.

Val, of course, looks breathtaking in the dress she picked out. Hand on your heart, you stare at your little sister in awe, wondering, probably for the first time ever, when the hell did she grow up so fast. And it’s an odd feeling that spreads through you. Pushing down the heartbreak momentarily, is melancholy for all the time you lost with your siblings because you were too busy being a star. It brings tears to your eyes, but you push them down quickly since you’ve been called dramatic enough for one day, and right now, it was all about Valentine.

“I think I understand why you’re always wearing skirts and dresses,” she says, spinning in front of the large mirror with the biggest smile on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I feel like a fucking princess.”

A soft giggle escapes your lips. You agree with her sentiment, then add, “You look like mom.” Meaning it as the highest of compliments and her eyes twinkle at your words. 

“She’s going to love this dress.”

You nod. “She’s going to love you in this dress.”

It’s decided, just like that. The dress is being bought and Val thanks you ten times over for offering to pay for it, along with a pair of Louboutins to compliment it. You tell her it’s the least you can do for finally getting you out of bed, then you tell her that you’re glad you did this together — biting your tongue when it came to the apology for missing so many key moments in her life, because again, this moment was about her, not about the guilt you suddenly felt for focusing too much on your career and too little on your family.

Using the phone inside the private dressing room, Val calls for one of the Sales Assistants to come up, and while you two wait, you leave her again to get redressed in her normal clothes. 

Max and Steve are gone. 

That’s the first thing you notice when stepping back into the corridor. Hank doesn’t say anything as to their departure, unsurprisingly. He does, however, hand you a receipt from a nearby coffee shop. There’s scribbles on the back of it: ‘MEET ME’, along with an address in Brooklyn.

“From the redheaded girl,” Hank admits.

-

Max Mayfield has tolerated a lot of shitty behaviour in her lifetime.

The list of people that hurt her, and the people closest to her, was quite long, especially for a twenty-something year old. But her upbringing had a lot more downs than ups, and because of that, for the longest time, Max considered herself to be the most unlucky person on the planet. So she blamed the people around her for it, because how else is a kid supposed to judge universal injustice?

To this day, she remembers every single individual that has wronged her in any way, along with the associated place, and most importantly, the how. Max was never entirely sure what she’d do with that information, but she stored it at the back of her mind regardless — hence her thick skin and inability to tolerate any sort of bullshit. 

Which is why it sucks ten times more when it is the people close to her doing the hurting, with no rhyme nor reason.

If Eddie asked, that’s why she left you her address. If Eddie asked, that’s why she wanted to talk to you. He did the hurting. Then he spewed bullshit as to why he ended things with you. Max didn’t believe any of it. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t believe it.

“I think she’s the love of my life,” Eddie announced one day, out of the blue. 

He called Max every Tuesday, when it hit four in the afternoon for him. Usually, the two of them talked about Max’s adventures in New York. How she’s doing with her studies, what she’s been up to with her friends (old and new), and if Sinclair has been driving her crazy, which he usually is. The odd time, Eddie would drop in some details about his whirlwind of a life, though he never talked about dating.

That is, until her older brother met you.

Then he wouldn’t fucking shut up.

Max liked this side of Eddie. A truly happy Eddie. And the redhead knows, better than anyone, the rockstar hasn’t been truly happy in all the years he’s been in a set presence in her life.

So to say she was surprised when the news broke, NO MORE SWEETHEART FOR EDDIE MUNSON, would be a vast understatement.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Max questioned her brother.

“Nothing,” Eddie answered plainly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world, “turns out she wasn’t anything special.”

“Eddie,” Max breathed, “you’re acting like a prick.”

She heard a sigh on the other line. Defeated. A little annoyed. Maybe even… sad?

“Whatever,” he brushed the comment off. “Listen, Red, I really don’t wanna talk about this, ‘cause if I did, I would’ve told you it ended myself.”

“That’s another problem I have—”

“Let’s not, okay?” Eddie snapped. “I really don’t wanna deal with shit from you, on top of everyone else, okay? We were never a real item, so it’s not a big deal.”

Max dropped it then and she swore she’d never bring it up again, but then, she bumped into you. She imagined meeting you many times over. The girl that made her brother happy. She wanted to know that girl. She wanted to thank her.

When it all went to hell, Max thought she’d never get the chance. Especially since, seemingly, you seemed okay with the downfall of your relationship with Eddie, spotted out on dates all over New York City. For a brief moment, Max let herself hate you. Clearly, you weren’t upset, which means, clearly, you didn’t care about Eddie nearly as much as he would have believed.

But then she saw you.

Max noticed how your face twitched with recognition the second your eyes locked together, how your hands shook slightly when Max looked behind her shoulder, the brief disappointment when it wasn’t Eddie who came around the corner, and how you tried to plaster on a pristine smile when you introduced yourself.

And now that she saw you, one thing was clear. Eddie hurt your feelings. He may have even broken your heart. That sort of behaviour, Max couldn’t stand for.

“Thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for inviting me,” you say with a delicate smile.

Your moves are apprehensive when Max further pushes her apartment door open, allowing you into her home. She leads you down the long hallway and offers up the couch for you to sit, while she steps towards the kitchen cabinets to grab a couple of wine glasses. 

In the time that Max opens up a bottle of Cabernet, you allow yourself to glance around the space. The furniture is all mismatched, definitely vintage, probably thrifted. There’s a fireplace, but you think it must be disconnected since instead it houses cream-coloured candles, all of different burn degrees. Otherwise, the decor is minimal, and it makes you think of Eddie and the empty walls of his Los Angeles mansion.

Though there is one prime feature. A framed Corroded Coffin poster, signed by all the members.

A faint smile circles your lips as you trail the details of the image. Though you haven’t been a fan before, having dated Eddie for a couple of months, you now knew the poster was from their first headline tour. The poor scribbles on an old photo, something that could one day be worth thousands. You’re sure though, that to Max, the value of this is priceless.

So your nerves bubble to the surface. Your leg starts to bounce, thumb back at your lips as you stare at the poster in front of you. The question of why exactly Max asked you to meet has been circling your mind ever since Hank handed you the address. It’s only intensified now that you are here. Now that you are looking at an A3 print of the brunette rockstar in his sister’s apartment. The guy that, despite your best efforts, you still cared for quite deeply.

“Here you go,” Max hails you back to reality by handing you a glass of wine. “It’s nothing fancy though, I eh, don’t usually host celebrities,” she tries to joke.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say and take the drink out of her grasp. “I-I actually prefer the cheaper stuff. Keeps me rich,” you try to joke.

Max seems to like your efforts ‘cause she huffs out a laugh while making herself comfortable on the armchair to your right.

“If only my idiotic brother carried the same principles as you,” she says. And just like that, the air is tense again. Your attempt at a joke is turned into an uncomfortable reminder of what the two of you have in common, and the reason for why you’re here tonight.

There’s a brief moment of slightly awkward silence. Then Max sighs softly.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to come.”

“The thought did cross my mind, yes.”

Max smiles, it’s small, yet genuine. 

“Look, Eddie has never been one for chatting about feelings. That’s one of the things we actually have in common, which is probably why we’ve always gotten along so well.” She pauses.

“Full transparency, I don’t know what went down between the two of you. All I know is one day, he’s telling me how he’s crazy about you, and the next, I’m reading in the tabloids how it’s over and Eddie’s not willing to give up any reasons why.”

Your face falls momentarily. Something Max picks up on instantly.

“You thought I knew more.”

“That obvious, huh?” You smirk.

“Just a little.”

There’s another moment of silence.

“I’ll be the first to say that Eddie can be a bit of a dickhead sometimes. Especially recently, when the money started rolling in and apparently no one in Hollywood understands setting boundaries, his ego has grown for sure. But I also know what he’s been through. Hawkins wasn’t the kindest to him.”

“Why are you telling me this?” It comes out as a whisper.

“He hurt you,” she’s blunt.

You don’t mean to, but you scoff. “No offence to you, or your brother, but I’m sure I wasn’t the first person he’s hurt, and I certainly won’t be the last, so do you sit down with all his ex-flings?”

Max sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing down momentarily, as she drops her gaze to the wine glass in her grasp. For a moment, you think you came off too bitchy and a little dismissive, after all, she hasn’t made her intentions known yet. Your instinct is to apologise, but then she clears her throat and looks back up at you.

“You’re the only one he’s ever talked about.”

-

“Do you wanna hurt him back?” — Max's question dings in your ears like the alarm bells you should have heard when she first asked it. 

Not now. Not the next night, after you had already agreed to her plan. After the plan was already in motion, you were simply just waiting for the other person to arrive.

Waiting for Steve Harrington.

This was all honestly a little too crazy, but again, you thought so a little too late. You should have been second guessing the idea the second Max presented it to you, like a pretty little gift, wrapped in a big bow known to most as ‘revenge’. Though last night, two bottles of wine in, you would have agreed to anything the redhead said. You did agree to everything ‘cause you realised that she just needed someone to vent her own feelings to, same as you.

She said Eddie didn’t want to talk about it, and she wanted to be sympathetic towards his feelings, but seeing you reminded her, he wasn’t the only person involved in this situation. She needed to talk to you. And honestly, you were glad for the opportunity, hence why you showed up at the scribbled address. Since all you got from your close circle was judgement, it couldn’t hurt to spend time with someone who’d refrain from commenting on how foolish you were.

As the night progressed, so did the topic of conversation.

The two of you had moved on from small talk relating to the person you both knew, and to the real reason Max asked you to come over: “Do you wanna hurt him back?”.

“I-I…” Clearly, the redhead caught you off guard, “Well, I-I haven’t really—”

“If you tell me you haven’t thought about it over the last few months, then I will say you’re full of shit, because no girl of your status gets her heartbroken so publicly, only to let the other person scot free.”

She moved from the armchair and sat back down next to you, then continued, “And I’m not saying this is about your career. It’s about principle. Taking away the fact that Eddie’s my brother, he’s an entitled rockstar who thinks other people’s feelings aren’t as important! Which personally, is just so baffling considering what he went through with Chrissy—”

“Who’s Chrissy?”

Max didn’t really answer your question, though the look in her eyes gave some of it away. Chrissy was, at one point in time, someone very important to Eddie. The name slipped out, you weren’t supposed to know it, that much was definitely clear. And you were smart enough to deduct that Max wasn’t going to tell you much else about this mystery girl, but maybe, whatever she had planned, would allow you to learn it from someone else. Maybe even Eddie himself.

“Okay,” you agreed, “What do you have in mind?”

That’s how you found yourself at Minetta Tavern, fifteen minutes early than agreed with Max ‘cause you knew you’d need a glass of wine before Steve arrived. There was a pit in your stomach. This whole situation was honestly so twisted, even for your standards. But you kept repeating to yourself how it was too late to back out now. Too late to call off this whole thing since the paparazzi you asked  Holly to arrange were already lurking outside.

Steve shows up about ten minutes before the agreed time.

The hostess walks him over to your table and you immediately notice how nervous he seems. He still offers you a charming smile and bends slightly to your level, greeting you with a half-hug. When he sits across from you, he’s quick to order a Jameson on ice, and only when the waiter is out of sight, Steve looks at you.

“Even if this is a fake date, I do have to say, you look really beautiful tonight.”

A timid smile circles your lips at the unexpected compliment. “Thank you, Steve. You look rather handsome too.”

“Nah,” he brushes you off with a smirk, “Not to be overly forward, but I’m all sweaty after a whole day’s work. Wanted to change shirts. Ended up running late this morning, so I didn’t take a second one with me. Then I tried to bribe one of my colleagues to give me his spare shirt, so he told me he’d bet me for it with a game of pool, which I clearly lost. It was a whole thing.” Steve dramatises, the smirk ever present. 

“Bet you’re regretting calling me handsome now, huh?”

“Not at all,” you reply honestly, “Actually, surprisingly, quite the opposite.”

He raises a brow. “Oh yeah?”

And you nod. “Not to be overly forward,” you repeat his earlier sentiment, “But I’ve never been on a date with someone that had a real job.”

Steve laughs. “I just told you I played a game of pool at work to win a clean shirt. That’s a real job to you?”

It’s rather effortless how he makes you laugh too.

“Well, I’m assuming that didn’t take the whole day, so for at least six hours today, you worked, no?”

Still smiling, he bops his head in agreement. “You got me there.”

Celebrating your mini victory, you take a sip of your wine. 

“So, what do you do, Steve?” You ask after the waiter brings over his drink and takes your food orders.

“Wall Street,” he answers plainly.

“Shit,” you reply with a grin, “You’re so right. That’s not a real job.”

When Steve laughs again, you forget why you’re both really here. When he laughs again, the slight shake of his head causing his hair to bounce in compliment, you forget the circumstances surrounding your date. As the night continued, with every spoken word, every little joke and giggle, you end up forgetting a lot of things actually.

You forget to ask Steve why he agreed to do this with you. Forget to ask about Eddie and what their friendship meant to him, since he’s here, acting out a revenge plot. Most importantly, you forget to ask about Chrissy, who she was, and what she really meant to the rockstar.

This fake date with Steve turned into one of the best dates of your young-adult life.

Apparently, you two had a lot in common, more than you could have ever imagined. You both came from families that always lived above the norm, which in itself was a challenge only people from similar backgrounds could understand. Steve had said how the weight of the world was always on his shoulders whenever he was around his parents, and that’s how you felt with your Nana. Nothing was ever good enough, yet you kept trying to impress them regardless. He shared the privilege you’ve always felt, so you bonded. Without ever meaning to.

It wasn’t until after dinner, which Steve paid for, by the way, you remembered the circumstances that brought you here together. He seemed to understand the apprehensive look in your eyes ‘cause he was quick to offer to leave first, before you, and not with you — just in case you had second thoughts — but you just shook your head, Max’s question humming in your ears once again: “Do you wanna hurt him back?”.

“He really hurt me, Steve.”

The brunette nods. “Let’s go then.”

The next morning, Page Six features a spread about you on a date with “a mystery brunette”. In the picture, Steve’s got his arm around you, hugging you close, as the two of you push through the paparazzi to get into his vintage car.

When Steve calls your apartment a few days later, you ask him if he regrets being put on blast like that.

“No,” he answers quickly, “Real or not, I had a really good night with you. Which honestly made me think about all the possible reasons Munson might’ve had to do what he did.”

“What did you come up with?”

“That he’s a fucking idiot. You’re incredible.”

You damn well know he can picture the smile you’re sporting right now as you wrap the cord around your wrist, like a little school girl talking to her crush. If your Nana saw, she’d tell you to snap out of it. Although, unlike Eddie, Steve was exactly the type of guy she’d want you to end up with.

Intelligent, charming, kind — and those were just the qualities you learned in a single night. The more you thought about your not-so-fake date, the more you found yourself wanting to learn even more about the handsome brunette.

There were just a couple of other questions you needed to get out of the way before you asked Steve out on a real date. Things you should’ve asked the first time around, instead of getting caught up in the moment.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“If Eddie’s your friend, why did you agree to Max’s plan?”

There’s a brief moment of silence. Albeit, very  brief.

“I guess the same reason Red even put this in motion in the first place.”

“Chrissy?”

You can hear him sigh into the receiver, but you don’t get to actually hear him confirm it, or ask any of the follow ups you should have actually asked him during your date, because there’s a knock on your door. Then again, only louder, more intense.

“Steve, I gotta call you back,” you say, attention now focused on whoever it was that’s on the other side of your front door and the eagerness behind their knocks.

“Sure thing, darling. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, someone’s just at my door. I’ll call you in a couple minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Steve agrees, “Speak in a few.” 

The next thing you hear are three beeps, so you hurry to put the phone back before approaching your front door. You don’t really think to check who it might be through the peephole, since there’s only a limited number of people that would get past your doorman with no prior notice. That was a mistake.

On the other side of your apartment door, drenched from the September rain, stood none other than Corroded Coffin frontman himself, Mr Eddie Munson.

Your mouth parts slightly in shock as Eddie slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, meeting your wide gaze. He tries to smile, though the corners of his lips don’t really move that far upward.

And you’re not sure how long the two of you stand there, just looking at one another. It’s only when one of your neighbours comes out of their apartment, into the shared corridor, that you snap out of whatever spell you had found yourself under.

The panic sets in. 

He’s actually here. Eddie is standing in front of you. Now, Mrs McAllister has seen him, and she’s got a big mouth, yapping to the ladies at bingo about all your activities, gossip that somehow always travels back to your Nana — the last person you needed on your case, again.

So without really thinking, you slam the door shut.

Right in Eddie’s face.

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

celebrity skin. masterlist

& tagging some cool ppl that expressed interest: @eviethetheatrefreak , @thirddeadlysin , @haylaansmi , @nope-thanks , @tlclick73 , @vintagehellfire , @ashlynnkennedy , @avalon-wolf , @sidthedollface2 , @astheni-a , @bebe07011 , @aysheashea , @papillonoirsworld , @vol2eddie

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson story #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #celebrity skin.

[andvys]

We'll burn the sky | part sixteen

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of drugs and alcohol, loss of a parent, mostly fluff, a few hints at steddie x reader

Pairings: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Rockstar!Reader | slight Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader | slight Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Word count: 7k+

Chapter summary: Back on tour, you and Eddie spend more time with each other again and get a nice surprise on New Years Eve.

Author's note: thank you for the help as always @mysticmunson <3 & @aftermidnightwriting I will definitely use your amazing idea with Dustin in the arcade later on in the story!

Series Masterlist

-

You have dreaded this day ever since the article was released. 

Going back on tour should fill you with joy and excitement but instead it fills you with dread and anxiety. Now that the truth about your dad is out, you can already imagine how awful the following weeks or even months will be. The paparazzis and journalists will be all over the place, throwing awful words and questions at you that you know will upset you even further. You are not ready for that, you don’t think that you will ever be. 

You always did everything to keep the truth a secret but now it’s all out in the open. 

You don’t even care about the things that they have said about you. They upset you, sure but you can ignore it and move on from that, you don’t let it get to you. Having made up stories about you comes with being in the music industry, especially since you’re the only woman in the band. Lies and rumors will always be created.

After three days of being stuck in Eddie’s trailer, you were now able to go back on the road, since the storm had passed. You loved those three days, you got along so well with Wayne, the man has earned a place in your heart. And Eddie, it was so nice to be around him like that, to fall asleep next to him only to wake up in his arms again. 

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” He whispered to you this morning when you voiced your concern about the tour. “You have me, I won’t leave your side. We’ll get through this together, okay?” 

Now you’re here, standing by the tour bus, saying goodbye to Wayne. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. 

“Look after yourself, alright kiddo?” 

You chuckle, nodding at his words, “I will.” 

“Don’t worry Wayne, she’s in good hands,” Eddie says from behind you. 

Wayne squeezes your arms before you pull away, you see the stern look in his eyes as he stares at him, “she better be, Eds.” 

On Christmas day, Wayne had confronted you about your relationship with his nephew while Eddie had gone to take a shower. 

“What’s going on with you and my boy?” Wayne asked while you were sitting on the couch with drinks in your hands. 

“What do you mean?” You asked nervously. 

He only chuckled, eyes flickering with amusement, “I may be old but I’m not blind, kid,” he said, “I see the way you look at each other, there’s clearly something. But there’s also pain in your eyes,” he mumbled, pausing to take a deep breath, “he hurt you didn’t he?” 

You looked down as your eyes flickered with sadness. You didn’t want to talk badly about Eddie or your relationship to someone that means everything to him. 

“It’s alright, you can talk to me, if you want.” 

You hesitated for a moment. 

“I just– I really love him.” 

His eyes softened at your admission, a small smile appearing on his face. 

“But he never told me about Chrissy.” 

He raised his eyebrows, eyes flickering with shock, he brought his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek as he stared at you, “oh boy..” 

“We weren’t together or anything but we were with each other all the time, he told me about you and Steve and his other friends, he told me everything, he just never mentioned her,” you explained, “b-but it’s okay, we talked about it, he opened up to me about their relationship, I guess I understand why he never told me about her..” 

Wayne sighed, sympathy crossed his face. With just a single glance at you, he saw the look in your eyes when you looked at Eddie, you are in love with him. He could only imagine how hurt and heartbroken you were. 

But he can also see the way Eddie looks at you, he is in love with you. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you smiled, “we’re okay now.” 

Wayne was quiet for a moment, he stared at you deep in thought and then a smile tugged at his lips. 

“I hope you know that he cares about you, a lot. I think yesterday proved it, when he stormed in like a mad man, that boy was ready to go through the storm to find you,” he paused, “you make him happy, you know? You always did. He called me a lot and all he ever talked about was you. I hope you can give him a second chance ‘cause if there’s someone who deserves it, it’s him.”

“She will always be,” Eddie smiles as he walks towards his uncle to hug him as well, “I’m gonna miss you so much, old man.” 

Wayne chuckles, “you’ll see me on Saturday again.” 

Eddie’s eyes light up at his words, “right, you got the VIP tickets and everything,” he chuckles, winking at you, “you can bring a date.” 

Wayne scoffs, “stop that.” 

You both laugh at him and his eye roll. 

“I gotta go or I’ll be late for the interview,” Wayne says as he looks at his watch. 

“Oh,” you say excitedly, “good luck! I just know they’re gonna hire you.” 

Wayne gives you a smile and Eddie chuckles, “of course they will, I put in a good word for you. The night shifts are soon to be over.” 

“Hopefully, I got my fingers crossed.” 

After one more hug and one last goodbye, Wayne leaves just as Johnny, Gareth and Jeff arrive. 

While the other two still look tired, Gareth is already sporting a big smile and a happy look on his face. 

“Alright ladies, are we ready to rock ‘n roll again, or what?” Gareth exclaims excitedly as he walks towards the tour bus with a bag in his hand. 

Jeff rolls his eyes, “how many coffees did you have this morning?” 

“Just three.” 

“It’s 10 am!” 

“Exactly.” 

You missed their banter and you missed them. 

The cold morning air is crisp, much more snow is covering the ground, now it truly looks like a winter wonderland. 

You put your hands in your warm pockets, looking around the empty street of Hawkins one last time, hoping to come back. The town has grown on you, something about it made you feel at home. Maybe it was just Eddie and Wayne, your new friends and the safe feeling you got from this place or maybe you just always craved a part of this, peace, safety and a family. 

Eddie is watching you with a smile on his face, he knows what you are thinking. He is thinking about it too. 

He never really liked this town, well, maybe it was only the people that he didn’t like but you made it more bearable, even when you only spent a few moments together in the whole week you were here. Still, the moments that you did spend together, made him happier. 

Maybe one day, he can come back here with you, to stay here. 

“You’re not leaving without saying goodbye, are you?” 

Both you and Eddie turn around with smiles on your faces. You’ve said goodbye to everyone last night, yet most of Eddie’s and your friends are here now. 

Robin is the first to approach you and wrap her arms around you. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, rockstar,” she says as she squeezes you tightly. 

You smile as you hug her back, meeting Steve’s eyes, your smile widens when he waves at you. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Robin. You should come to Chicago on Saturday, Steve’s coming too.” 

“Oh trust me, I’m gonna be there,” she says, grinning at you as she pulls away, “I can’t wait to see you on the big stage.” 

“And what about me? Are you excited to see me?” Eddie asks her as he ruffles Dustin’s hair who slaps his hand away in annoyance. 

She scrunches her face up, shrugging, “eh, not really,” she teases. 

He squints his eyes at her, “you love me, Robin,” he grins. 

“No, I really don’t.” 

Shaking your head at them, you walk towards Steve. 

“Hi,” you whisper. 

“Hi,” he smiles, “you ready to go back on tour?” 

You shake your head, “not really but it’s gonna be fine,” you shrug. 

He nods, looking over your shoulder and at his friends, he reaches for your hand and pulls you away, leading you behind the tour bus. 

He blushes as he runs his fingers through his hair, letting go of your hand, he reaches into the pocket of his coat, “I uh– I got you something.” 

You raise your eyebrows, eyes flashing with curiosity. 

“I got it a few days ago, before the whole thing at the trailer,” he says quietly, “I know we already exchanged presents and all but I wanted to wait with this.” 

“Why?” 

He shrugs as he scratches the back of his neck. 

Your eyes soften as he hands you the little box, you glance into his eyes before you look down at the present, you open it to find a pretty necklace, a pendant with a bird on it, it’s wings are open. It’s beautiful. You touch it with your fingertips, a soft smile appearing on your face. 

“Birds stand for freedom, you know?” 

You pick the necklace out of the box and look up at him, smiling, “yeah?” 

He nods. “You’re free too, just remember that you can do anything you want, you can always dream bigger, you can go wherever you want, it’s your life, you get to choose what will happen.” 

Your chest warms at his words. 

“You’re cute, you know that right?” You chuckle. 

He shrugs, jutting his lip out as he smirks, “yeah, yeah. I know.” 

You can see the blush on his cheeks, the nervous look in his eyes. 

“I love it, Steve.” 

“You do?” He asks as his eyes lighten up. 

You nod, “it’s beautiful, thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” he smiles. 

“Help me put it on?” You ask as you hold the necklace out to him. He whispers a small ‘of course’ as he takes it from your hand. You turn around, standing with your back towards him. You move your hair to the side as he moves his arms around you, placing the silver necklace around your neck.

“That better be my lucky charm now,” you joke as you look down at the necklace with a smile on your face. You turn around to face him again. 

“It will be,” he winks. 

“I’m gonna miss you, Steve.” 

His gaze softens at your words. 

“I’m gonna miss you too,” he whispers as he opens his arms for you. You step towards him, falling into his embrace, you lay your head on his chest and wrap your arms around him. He holds you tightly and closes his eyes. 

He finds himself wishing that he didn’t have to say goodbye. You have grown so much on him, you became a part of his life.

“Maybe I should put you in my suitcase and take you with me,” you joke as you pull away from him. 

“I don’t think I’ll fit in there, honey,” he laughs, eyes twinkling as they lock with yours, “you can still hire me as your stylist,” he jokes as he puts his hand on your back, leading you back to the others. 

“Yeah, maybe I should,” you chuckle. 

“You better come back to Hawkins again, y/n,” Dustin says as he walks towards you with a grin on his face, “we didn’t even get to go to the arcade together!” He frowns. 

“Next time, alright?” You smile as you pull the younger boy into a hug, “I’m gonna come visit after the tour and we can go to the arcade together.” 

“We better!” 

You hug Lucas and Max next, squeezing both of them tightly before you press a kiss to their cheeks, almost bursting into laughter when they turn towards each other with wide eyes and excited looks on their faces. They squeal when you turn away from them, missing the amused look on Robin’s face as she stares at them. 

Eddie pulls away from Steve’s hug, saying something to him that you can’t make out. His brown eyes meet yours and he smiles, “ready?” 

You nod. 

Eddie waits for you to get on the tour bus first but you turn towards Steve one more time. He raises his brows, a smile tugging at his lips as you approach him one more time. Reaching your hands out, you cup his cheeks and stand on your tippy toes, pulling him towards you, you kiss his cheek, leaving a lipstick mark on his skin. 

Robin and Dustin chuckle in the back, their laughter only getting louder when they see Eddie’s eye roll. 

Steve chuckles as well, blushing at your sweet action. 

He cups your cheeks now, giving you a big kiss on the cheek too, just barely missing your lips. 

“Alright,” Eddie rolls his eyes, shaking his head, “let’s go, sweetheart.” 

You and Steve giggle at each other, he ruffles your hair, “take care of yourself, yeah?” 

“I will.” 

“I’m always one phone call away,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you smile as you squeeze his hand before you step away. 

“Goodbye Stevie.”

His eyes flash with bittersweet sadness, though he will see you in a week again, he knows things will be different. This is a different goodbye.

You pick out the necklace from beneath your shirt, reaching for the pendant, you give it a kiss. 

“Goodbye Stevie.”

He smiles at your action, eyes following you as you step on the tour bus, his smile falls a little. 

“Goodbye honey,” he whispers. 

Eddie watches him closely, their conversation is still deep on his mind. 

Both men look at each other, a mutual understanding flashing in their eyes. 

“Take care of her.” 

Eddie nods, “of course.” 

-

“You know, I missed this.” 

“Hotel rooms?” 

Eddie chuckles, stealing a fry off your plate, he dips it in ketchup before eating it, “hotel rooms with you.” 

You smile, watching as he licks his lips, missing the ketchup on the corner of his mouth. You reach your hand out towards his face, wiping the condiment off, you look into each other’s eyes as you bring your thumb back to your lips, licking it clean. 

A blush takes over his face and he looks down with a smile on his face. 

“I missed it too.” 

“Yeah? You did?” 

You nod, humming at his question. 

Neither of you want to think of the few lonely nights you spent without each other after the night in Cincinnati. It feels wrong to even think of the moments you weren’t with each other.

Eddie can look at you with the same happiness in his eyes as before everything. You are here with him, wearing his shirt again. Your hair is still wet from the shower you took earlier, the necklace that Steve got you, hanging around your neck. 

The first day back on tour was mostly spent on the tour bus and the hotel. Rob, your tour manager won’t be here until tomorrow morning. 

The following days you will be busy with interviews and photoshoots before the concert on Saturday. Eddie isn’t sure if you are ready for it but he will be by your side, every step of the way. 

“What’re you thinking about?” You ask as you push your half eaten plate of food away from you, reaching for your coke, you take a sip before placing it back on the tray. 

“How do you know I’m thinking about something?” He asks as he eats the rest of his burger. 

“You always have that look in your eyes,” you explain, eyes flashing with amusement, “and you’re a nervous eater, you always scarf down the food when you’re deep in thought, which you just did,” you chuckle. 

He furrows his brows, chewing his food slowly, he tilts his head. 

He steals your coke, drinking half of it which you don’t even seem to mind. You’ll share everything with him. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe. 

“Huh, I never realized,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “I guess you’re right. I’m always reaching for snacks when I feel stressed but then again, I always think about food.” 

“A real taurus,” you chuckle. 

He laughs but nods in agreement. 

“So… what were you thinking about?” You ask again. 

He chews on his bottom lip for a moment, “I don’t wanna ruin the mood right now.” 

Eying the concern on his face and the uncertainty in his eyes, you already know what this is about. 

“It’s about the article isn’t it?” You ask. 

He sighs, nodding. 

“What about it?” 

“I-I just, I’m worried about you,” he says as he scoots closer to you, reaching his hand out, he grabs it and places it in his, “the journalists, the press… the fucking paparazzis will be everywhere, it’s gonna be brutal, sweetheart.” 

Yes, they will be but you will be fine, you have to be. 

“It’s okay, Eddie,” you whisper, “I’m not gonna cry, break down or get angry at them, I won’t give them that satisfaction. They asked about my dad before, remember?” 

He nods. He remembers that interview, the way you tensed up and looked like you were actually on the verge of a breakdown. 

“It was just a rumor, back then no one even knew anything about it,” you shrug, “this can be treated like a rumor as well, some asshole ��made’ that shit up about my dad. Once they see that it has no effect on me, they’ll leave me alone. There’s no proof, no one was there that night, no one except for me.” 

His eyes flash with sadness at the mention of that night. You opened up more about that night, telling him about what you came home to. 

“They talked shit about me before, remember that one article they wrote about me?” 

He nods, rolling his eyes in anger. 

He was so focused on you, he didn’t think about how it would affect him. His first priority is you. He wants to protect you, be there for you and take care of you. But he also knows that the following weeks or even months will be a challenge for him as well, he will deal with anger, too much of it. Anger for all the people that try to harm you in any way. 

“Then it’s nothing new,” you shrug, trying to play it cool, “sure, it’ll be a lot and I can already hear the disrespectful questions from all those asshole journalists and paparazzis but fuck it, you either ignore them or you… take it easy.” 

“Take it easy?” He scoffs, “how am I supposed to take it easy when they’ll attack you?” 

“Eddie, they won’t attack me,” you sigh. 

Your gaze softens, your heart flutters in his chest as you look into his eyes. He cares so much about you, it’s something you never realized before Christmas. 

“Something that I learned is, you gotta act like you don’t give a fuck about anything, you gotta shrug things off, play it cool, throw sarcastic comments at them, maybe mean ones too, anything to make them leave you alone. My dad taught me that, it always worked out for him. Once they realize that they can’t use a single fucking thing against you, they will get bored.” 

Eddie blinks as he stares at you. 

“That’s what I’m gonna do and it’s what I want you to do. It’s about taking care of yourself, protecting yourself, Eddie.” 

You are strong, so much stronger than him. You allowed yourself to grieve, you allowed yourself to break down and cry and for a moment you were broken, maybe you still are but you got up again. 

“Don’t let them see how broken you are, it’s what they want. You put on a mask in front of these fuckers and you only take it off in front of people who truly care about you. You can cry and be angry but not in front of people who wanna see that.” 

Eddie remembers the way you put that mask on, after you had just found out about Chrissy, your heart broke, you were angry and sad and yet you managed to hide those feelings in front of strangers. No matter how hurt you were, you were always able to hide it. 

“And honestly? I’m more concerned about who spilled.” 

“Who knew about your dad?” Eddie asks, furrowing his brows. 

You look down, staring at his hand, you play with the new rings on his fingers, the ones that you got for him. 

“Sam, Rob and my mom. That’s all, I didn’t even tell my friends,” you mumble, “it obviously wasn’t Sam or Rob, so I guess that just leaves my mom.” 

There is something you are not telling him, he can see it on your face and he can hear it in your voice. The room falls silent, the candle light flickers. Eddie rubs circles into your skin, staring at you with curiosity in his eyes. 

“Who else knew?” 

You hesitate. Your eyes meet his again. 

“Sweetheart–”

“Chrissy and Jason knew.” 

He draws back a little as his eyes widen, his lips parting in shock. 

“W-What?” 

You take a deep breath. 

“Yeah uh– that night at the hideout, Chrissy followed me out to talk, then Steve and Jason followed us out as well. She just dropped that on me, in front of Steve too, I didn’t want anyone to know, Eddie. At first, I didn’t know how they found out but I kinda figured that my mom told them.” 

“What the fuck,” Eddie mumbles as his eyes flash with anger. 

“She is the only one who could’ve told them,” you frown, “I called her, she was weird, weirder than usual so… and I honestly don’t think that it was Chrissy, if anything it was her sleazeball boyfriend and her bitchy mom.” 

“You don’t think it was Chrissy?” Eddie asks with a confused look on his face, “she had it out for you.” 

You sigh, shaking your head, “I talked to her the night before Christmas Eve, I was at the diner and she was there too..” 

“Jesus,” he sighs, running his fingers through his hair, he clenches his jaw, eying you in concern. He can already imagine what kind of things she has said to you, “did she–”

“She was.. nice,” you mumble, “we talked normally. I don’t think it was her, I have a feeling that it wasn’t.”  

Eddie is still suspicious but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Her mom is religious, right?” 

Eddie nods, “yeah, Jason too,” he rolls his eyes. 

You chuckle, shaking your head, “trust me, it was them. I don’t know why they would care and I have no fucking clue how they found my mom but they must have given her a lot of money.” 

“Wait what?” 

“Oh, all she cares about is money, Eddie. You pay her a good amount and she’ll tell you anything you wanna know.” 

Eddie raises his brows, a sigh leaving his lips as he shakes his head. He squeezes your hand, “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay, I-I just wanna move on from this, you know?” 

He nods. 

“Okay,” he whispers, “but why didn’t you tell me about Jason and Chrissy’s mom?” 

“I didn’t want you to get into a fight with that asshole, it’s whatever. In the end it doesn’t even matter who sold that fucking story, it won’t be the first scandalous article, there will be many more.” 

He would have definitely gotten into a fight with Jason and cuss the old Cunningham witch out, god knows how many times he had done it before when she would comment on Chrissy’s weight, not only was she horrible to her own daughter, now she also managed to find a way to hurt you, you who had absolutely nothing to do with her. 

“I wanna beat his face in and put nair in her shampoo,” he grumbles as his eyes darken. 

Eddie was always protective of the people he loves, of his friends and family but he had never felt this kind of protective before. 

You snort at his words. 

“I’m serious!” 

“Okay,” you giggle, “that witch is gonna lose her hair at some point, karma will get her. Same with Jason, he’ll get what he deserves.” 

“But still, I wanna hurt him.” 

“You already did.” 

“That punch wasn’t enough.” 

“I’m sure an asshole like him will get many more punches in his lifetime.” 

“He better.” 

Sighing, you let go of his hand, taking the food tray, you place it on the ground before you lay down, placing your feet on the soft cushions and your hand on your stomach. 

Eddie looks at you, smile tugging at his lips. 

You reach for the necklace beneath your shirt and curiosity sparks inside of him. 

He lays down next to you, placing his elbow on the soft pillow, he cups his cheek as he stares down at you. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

You turn to look at him, rolling over on your side so you can face him. 

“How do you really feel about Steve?” He asks, “I-I’m not angry or jealous, just curious. I can tell that he means something to you,” he says, reaching for the necklace he got you. 

You hold your finger to your lips as you think about his questions. 

Eddie waits patiently. 

“Why are you asking me this?”

“I just, I see the way you’re around him,” he explains, “you’re comfortable with him, it’s different than with others, even your friends.” 

“I just really like him. He is kind of amazing.” 

“Kind of?” He smiles. 

“Very amazing,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes, “you’re still my favorite.” 

His smile widens, heart skipping a beat. You put your hand on his arm, squeezing it. 

“But how do you feel about him, Eddie?” 

He draws his brows together as he gives you a questioning look. It makes you giggle. You were surprised about the kiss they had shared that one night, it didn’t exactly seem like it was their first kiss. 

“How many times have you kissed him before?” 

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, chuckling. His cheeks grow red. 

“Or did you do…. more?” 

He shakes his head, “no, sweetheart. It was just a few kisses.” 

“A few kisses?” You chuckle. 

He nods as his eyes fall on the necklace that he is still holding between his fingers, he scoots closer to you. 

“Yeah, a few drunken kisses,” he snorts. 

“That’s all?” 

“That’s all.” 

“You never wanted to go further than that?” 

“I mean, back then I did,” he admits shyly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, your eyes flash with excitement at this new revelation, you push him back and place your hands on his chest, “tell me everything.” 

He laughs at your curiosity, not wasting a moment to put his hands on your back. 

“I was kinda into him but wasn’t sure if he’d be open for more than just a few kisses, you know?” 

You nod. 

“So I never tried,” he shrugs, “and then Chrissy asked me out so I never really thought about it again.” 

“Oh,” you pout. 

He chuckles, placing his hand under your chin, “what’s that pout for, sweetheart?” 

“I think you and Steve would’ve been cute together,” you say, giggling. 

“Shut up,” he laughs, rolling his eyes at you. 

“You know who would be cute together?” 

You shake your head, placing your chin on his chest, you brush your fingers through his curls, making him smile. 

“You and I, we’d be cute together,” he smiles. His eyes are soft, filled with nothing but adoration and love. 

Warmth rushes through your chest a smile tugs at your lips but you pretend to be skeptical, “hmm… you really think so?” 

He playfully glares at you, “of course!” 

“But I wouldn’t stand a chance if you were dating Steve,” you say, pretending to be jealous. 

He almost laughs, shaking his head at you. 

“Baby, we’re both obsessed with you,” he chuckles as he digs his fingers into your sides, tickling you. 

“Eddie!” You laugh, pushing his hands away. 

“If I was dating Steve and you came along, we’d both fall for you and just date you both.” 

Your lips part in surprise, your eyes widen, “oh?” 

He chuckles at the expression on your face. 

“And what if I didn’t want to have two boyfriends?” 

“But we’d treat you like a queen. You’d be the happiest girl in the world.”

You chuckle, blushing at his words. 

“Hmm, maybe two boyfriends aren’t too bad,” you whisper, “should we call Steve?” 

“No!” 

You giggle when he wraps his arms around you and flips you over. 

“No? I thought I could have two boyfriends.”

“I never said that,” he points out, giving you a stern look, “that would’ve happened if I dated Steve in the past. You are the only one that I need and I’m the only one that you need.” 

Your heart flutters and so does his when you cup his cheek. 

“You do have a soft spot for Steve though,” you whisper. 

It’s the truth. Out of all his friends, Steve was always his closest one, even though there’s people in his life that he had known much longer. Steve was different, you found a place in his heart. Eddie hated to admit it but he did. 

He was sick with jealousy when you had been with him but he always felt relieved that it wasn’t another man. It was just Steve. He always trusted him and he knew that you were safe with him.

“As do you.” 

Yes. 

Maybe the both of you have a bit of a soft spot for the handsome dork, he grew on you and a part of you hated the thought of him being all alone again. A part of you feels guilty, you gave him something, only to take it away again. 

“I feel like an asshole.” 

“What?”

His eyes are filled with guilt as he looks up at the ceiling. 

“The night at the trailer, Steve and I got into a fight… kinda.” 

“What? Why?” 

“He admitted that he likes you. I asked him if he loves you but he didn’t say anything. He looked pretty upset about the fact that you like.. me.” 

You talked about this with Steve. He told you that he has no feelings for you, that it was nothing but an attachment he had formed. 

“I got angry and we started saying stuff to each other, then it all led to that moment.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I feel bad, I-I didn’t want to accept that he may have feelings for you, I was scared that I would lose you because of it but when he gave you that necklace, I felt bad for him.” 

Your eyes soften and you frown at his words, “w-why?” 

“Because he didn’t want to let you go and yeah, maybe it’s just a friend not wanting to let go of someone that means the world to them and I know what it’s like to watch you leave, I know what he feels like. Losing you is the most painful thing, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t ever wanna lose you,” he whispers as he presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “even if you decide to leave me in the end, I will never leave you, no matter what.” 

Tears well up in your eyes. 

Eddie doesn’t understand what weight his words hold. He doesn’t know that this small moment, these simple words might have saved you. 

You know that he will stand by your side. 

And as long as you have him, you know that you will be alright. 

-

Cruel words and weird stares were expected when you left the hotel the next day, you successfully managed to ignore them though. You don’t let these things get to you. You’ve become an expert at building walls up around you, ones that no one can tear down, least of all strangers who have no relations to you.

You make it through the interview, you manage to get through the photoshooting and even the talk show that the band has been invited to. 

The journalists weren’t the nicest people to deal with, they of course used the article as an excuse to ask you questions that you have felt uncomfortable to answer but as you have told Eddie, you put on a fake smile and acted as though it had absolutely no effect on you. 

You noticed the concerned glances of your friends, Jeff asked you how you were doing multiple times, Gareth tried to lighten your mood while Rob and Johnny tried to distract you by talking about the upcoming concert. 

Eddie held your hand through it all, comforting you with his touches and encouraging smiles. 

You appreciate them but most of all him.

You tried to think of anything but the mess that you had gotten in, which was quite the challenge considering that people brought it up, constantly. 

Friday rolled around and you were happy to be back on stage for rehearsals. You haven’t sung since the night at the hideout and you missed it. 

You and Eddie tried to keep your touches to a minimum but it was difficult to do so, you just couldn’t stay away from him and neither could he. It was nice to hold his hand again and sing with him. 

You have gotten to the venue in the morning, a few hours have passed since then and you have decided to take a break. 

With a cup of coffee in your hand, you sit down on the ground and flip through the pages in your notebook. 

The guys went out to eat, you didn’t feel like leaving the venue, not when you know that there’s a bunch of people waiting out there for you. Eddie had wanted to stay back but you know that he hasn’t eaten anything since last night so you had to convince him to get food with the others. 

He only begrudgingly agreed, not wanting to leave you alone but eventually he caved, especially when his stomach grumbled. He promised to get you something as well before he left. 

You hear heavy footsteps and a loud sigh, you don’t have to look behind you to see who it is. 

“What’re you doing, kid?” Rob asks as he sits down across from you, a cup of coffee in one hand and a cigarette in his other. 

“Just going through a new song text that I wrote.” 

“Oh, you wrote a new one?” He asks with a smile on his face. 

“Yes, started working on it a while back, do you wanna read it?” 

“Sure.” 

You turn your notebook around and slide it towards him. “I thought that this could be on the next album.” 

He raises his brow and smiles, “next album, huh?” 

You nod, “yeah, I mean I hope we can make one.” 

“With the way things are going, I can’t see why not,” he shrugs before he breaks eye contact, placing his mug on the floor, he reaches for the notebook. Placing his cigarette between his lips, he squints his eyes as he starts to read. 

You shake your head at the expression on his face, that man refuses to get himself some reading glasses. 

You take a sip of your warm coffee and look around the empty room, the one that will be filled with thousands of people tomorrow night. 

“Sounds angry,” he chuckles, “and very emotional.” 

“I was very angry and emotional,” you nod, laughing. 

“I can tell.” 

“Whenever I’m angry or sad, I get inspired…. Is that weird?” 

He smiles as he shakes his head slowly, “no, kid. It’s not weird, it’s your way of dealing with it. Which is good because at least there’s a great outcome from it. Other’s turn to other things when they are in pain.” 

You swallow, nodding at his words. 

“Yeah, drugs, alcohol and sex.” 

His eyes widen as he nods in agreement, “that’s right. I’ve been there myself, it’s not good. It feels good in the moment but you always come back from it, you sober up and when you do, you feel like absolute shit so you drown yourself in it again and again. You don’t want to but you do, despite knowing how fucking awful it is. You want to stop but the moment you’re in it, it just seems impossible and the longer you do it, you get more and more lost.” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, nodding, “you lose your way out.” 

“You really do. That’s why you should never even start with it because the moment you do, all those fuckers out there,” he says, pointing into a random direction, his cigarette still between his fingers, “the ones who are waiting for your downfall, they all fucking win. Everything they said about you, becomes true and you don’t want that. You gotta do what’s best for you, you gotta be better and stronger than them.” 

“But what if you realize that you are not strong?” 

“Then you gotta find that strength, you look for the light and hold on to that. Don’t succumb to darkness.” 

Rob’s words echo in your mind for the rest of the day, playing on repeat. 

You found your light and you will hold onto that, no matter what. 

-

“Are you ready?” Gareth grins at you, wiggling his brows. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you chuckle, giving him a confused look, “why are you acting so suspicious?” 

“Me, suspicious?” He gasps, shaking his head, “why would I act suspicious?” 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” 

You look behind his shoulder, smiling at Steve who looks away from Eddie, his eyes lock with yours and he smiles. 

Robin is watching the opening act with a look of awe in her eyes, Wayne next to her. 

The backstage crew is rushing around, preparing for your concert. 

“Can you believe that all these people came here for you?” 

You furrow your brows, laughing, “they came for us,” you mumble. 

“No, they came for you.” 

He looks behind you with a smirk on his face. You’re just about to turn around to see what he is looking at when a pair of hands cover your eyes. 

“Guess who.” 

You gasp at the sound of her voice, almost squealing in excitement, you grab her hands and turn around. 

“Jamie?” You exclaim as you meet the eyes of your best friend. 

She grins at you, happiness flashing in her eyes, she pulls you into a tight hug. 

“I missed you so much.” 

You close your eyes, blinking away the happy tears, you squeeze her tightly. 

“I missed you too, Jaims.”

“Alright, move over, Jamie. It’s my time.” 

Your eyes snap open and you just now notice the other two girls. Frankie and Wren rush towards you with excited squeals. They both wrap their arms around you, pulling you into a group hug. 

You giggle as Frankie presses her lips to your cheek, “I missed you so much, babe!”

“How?” You ask as you look at your friends in surprise. 

Jeff comes up behind Wren, pulling your friend into his arms, “we thought you could use some time with your friends,” he grins at you. 

“Wait,” you look at him with a smile on your face before you turn to Gareth, “you guys planned this?” 

“It was Eddie’s idea,” he shrugs, “I almost blurted it out the other day though.” 

Your gaze softens, heart warming. You turn around, looking at Eddie who is already staring at you with a smile on his face. 

‘Thank you,’ you mouth to him. 

“Of course, you can never keep your mouth shut,” Jamie snorts at him. 

“Hey! I did keep my mouth shut!” 

You shake your head, turning back to your friends, you stare at them for a moment. It’s been months since you had last seen them. Wren’s hair is longer than it was before, a happy smile is lingering on her face as she hugs Jeff. 

“How are you guys?” 

“Oh, Wren and I are fine,” Jamie says to you before she looks at Frankie who has that flicker in her eyes, “this one though, crazy in love.” 

Your eyes widen, you look her up and down, not only is she blushing like crazy, there’s also something on her hand that you haven’t seen before. 

“I-Is that an engagement ring?” You gape at her, reaching for her hand to stare at it. 

“Yes,” she squeals. 

“Wow, I– where’s this coming from?” You laugh, eying the beautiful ring, “who’s that lucky guy?” 

She opens her mouth to speak but is quickly cut off by Wren, “before she rambles your ear off, his name is Thomas, he is rich and crazy obsessed with her.” 

“And he has a yacht!” Frankie exclaims with a happy smile on her face. 

You pull her into another hug, “congrats, you always wanted a yacht,” you giggle. 

“Hi guys.” 

For a moment, your friends all fall silent at the sound of Eddie’s voice, it almost makes you nervous that they know about what happened. You didn’t tell them, you didn’t want to, especially not over the phone. 

Eddie places his hand on your back, waving at them awkwardly. 

They all greet him after a moment, giving him small smiles. It makes you relax a little but then they lay their eyes on Steve, who stands on the other side of you. 

You introduce them to him, your friends eye him in curiosity, you can already hear the questions coming the moment they get you alone again. 

They share teasing grins when they notice how both men look at you. Their grins only get bigger when you call Steve ‘Stevie’. 

Jeff excuses himself, pulling Wren along with him. You smirk to yourself when you see them walking into one of the backstage rooms. 

Gareth walks off as well as he mumbles something under his breath, leaving you standing here with two men on both your sides and your very curious best friends. 

Jamie falls into a conversation with Eddie and Steve but quickly finds something more entertaining behind you, you follow her gaze. Robin. 

She is staring at Robin. 

A mischievous smile appears on your face, the blush on her face deepens when Robin turns around, meeting your friend’s eyes. Jamie was the one who teased you the most when she found out about your feelings for Eddie, you will enjoy this. 

“So which one of them are you dating right now?” Frankie whispers into your ear after pulling you away from the group. 

“W-What?” You chuckle. 

She grins, playing with her red hair as she leans closer to you, “are you dating both?” She asks, “I know you always loved those love triangle books.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan. 

She turns to look at them, catching the look on Steve’s face as he stares at Eddie. 

“Oh uh, babes, I think he has a crush on your man.” 

You follow her gaze to see Steve nodding along to Eddie’s words, smiling at him. 

You almost burst into laughter. 

“Wait no–” she cuts herself off, Steve looks at you for a brief moment, “wait…” 

“What?” You chuckle. 

Her eyes are squinted, she looks at them and then at you, eyes moving back and forth, “did you…” Her eyes widen and she gasps before she even finishes her questions, before you even say anything, “you did, didn’t you!” 

“Did what?” You laugh, acting clueless but the flustered look on your face and the nervous smile gives it away.

“You know what,” she wiggles her brows. 

“No…” You say in a hushed whisper, hoping that no one can hear you or see the look on your face, “we didn’t–”

“Yes you did, you naughty girl,” she smirks. 

“I-It wasn’t, we didn’t.. not actually,” you stutter, rolling your eyes as you cross your arms over your chest. 

“Not actually?” She asks with wide eyes, “but you did something.” 

“It was just… a little something.” Not an actual threesome, you think to yourself. 

“A little something, huh?” She grins. 

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes playfully. 

“Nothing too crazy.” 

“How did that even happen?” She gasps, giggling like a schoolgirl, “I thought you and Eddie were dating all this time.”

“We weren’t– aren’t dating.” 

She draws back, scrunching her face up, “you’re kidding right?” 

You shake your head, “nope.” 

“I’m not buying that, that man,” she points to Eddie who turns to look at you with a smile on his face, “he is head over heels for you.” And then her eyes fall on Steve, “and that one too…. maybe, I’m not sure yet.” 

You shake your head, sighing. 

“Who’s head over heels for who?” Wren whispers in your ear as she sneaks up behind you. 

“Eddie and his boyfriend.” 

Wren giggles and you roll your eyes with a smile on your face. 

“Oh my god,” Wren laughs, “look at you, you became a rockstar and got yourself two boyfriends, have you adopted any kids yet?” She jokes. 

You chuckle, “should I?” 

“Yeah, you should make them both daddies.” 

“Jesus Christ…” you groan. 

“Who’s gonna be your new year’s kiss tonight? Which one is getting the first smooch?” 

They both giggle at the flustered expression on your face, teasing you with their eyes when both men walk up to you again, standing on both sides of you like before.

“You ready to go on stage, sweetheart?” Eddie smiles excitedly as he reaches for your hand. 

You nod, ignoring the giggles of your friends. 

“Good luck, honey.” 

They whisper behind your back, mimicking their pet names for you before they giggle again. 

You already know, their teasing will be never ending and this night will be a long one. 

-

@littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @mysticmunson @aftermidnightwriting @sherrylyn628 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @yearwalker96 @eddiemyloveee

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

[kookygranger]

Masterlist

EDDIE MUNSON FICS

Drabbles/Blurbs

✦ Record store blurb

✦ Road to Nowhere Series

✦ Dialogue of the Damned (ongoing) AO3 - rockstar!eddie x music journalist!reader ✦ Seafoam//Sharp Teeth (complete) AO3 - siren!eddie x reader ✦ Fairytale of Hawkins Pt 1 / Pt 2 / Valentine's Special (complete) - towtruckeddie! x reader

STEVE HARRINGTON FICS Series ✦ Is This Desire? (complete) - firefighter!steve x witch!reader ✦ Ghosts, Grimoires and Gigs (ongoing) - ghost!steve x witch!reader

Beautiful Eddie edit by @fefemunson