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honey-flustered · 1 year

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Cruel Little Vixen 7

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Journalist!Reader

Summary: The universe continues to teach you and Eddie some important lessons. Tensions rise when the world becomes aware of the rockstar’s girl. And top it all off, you and Eddie are forced to make an important decision regarding your relationship.

NO READ MORE LINE BREAK ADDED DUE TO GLITCH

A/N: It’s been a tough ass road, but I’m back. I’ve experienced challenges with the last two parts of my story being deleted and having to start over, my mental health’s hung by a fucking thread, I’ve been anxious to post because I feel like my work’s not good enough but ya know what I love writing and it keeps me happy! The series is coming to an end. Just one more part (tried making this the last one but the ending’s too damn long). I cannot wait to finish this because I’ve had so many fic ideas I’ve been meaning to share. I wanna complete requests and ask for some of yall ideas or whatever. I just want to have some fun with this. Any this chapter’s filled with slight rom com elements and tropes. It’s definitely a healing experience for both reader and Eddie. Especially Eddie. It’s a wild ride so please enjoy! Also Happy New Years! 🥳

>>>>>Series Masterlist Part 7 of 8

Word Count: 10.8k

Warnings: overload of fluff and 🌽, heavy flirting, idiots in love, airplane jokes, some angst, brief blood and violence, talks of negligent parents and juvenile detention, hinted abuse of a minor character, smutty smut, kissing/making out, fingering, squirting, handjob, light dirty talk, nipple play, mile high club activities, graphic language, Eddie loves drinking his respect women juice

2 years ago…

“We’re Corroded Coffin and we’re the band your parents wished you never listened to! 2, 3, 4!” Eddie shouts into the mic, counting in time to Gareth’s drumstick taps. The drums to Aerosmith’s “Walk This Way” are the first to make its noise before the familiar guitar riff picks up after it.

Then, he sings and the crowd’s loving it.

The former nightclub bartender and now manager of Corroded Coffin, Eugene Neds, spotted great potential in the enigma that was Eddie Munson that night. In a band of 19-year-olds passing off as 21 to perform at a venue much too risqué for kids their age, the man only had eyes for the lead guitarist/singer. Eddie was going to be a star, he was sure of it. Eugene just needed to make sure that he would be the one to make it happen.

The music cuts abruptly. “Hey, asshole! Leave her the fuck alone, alright.” Eddie shouts on the mic, pointing over at the bar. The spotlight lands on the inebriated giant of a man towering over a visibly uncomfortable woman.

“Why don’t you mind your goddamn business?” The large man slurs.

“I’m not so sure it’s your business either, man. She wants absolutely nothing to do with you.” Eddie hops off stage, approaching the man as if he were David in Goliath’s presence.

At that moment, Eddie realized he was tired of running, tired of bullies, and tired of being picked on for being different. Those days have been laid to rest along with all his grievances of high school. The man had since gained the grit needed to face danger head on. It was the day he reclaimed the title, ‘The Freak’.

“You looking for a fight, little guy?” The large man attempts to intimidate, towering over him.

“Well, if you won’t leave her alone…then yes…I am looking for a fight.” Eddie stares daggers up at the man.

Not a second longer, the man’s fist connects with Eddie’s jaw, sending him back against a table with a few glasses being knocked over. Eddie’s wild hair covers over his face. He swipes a thumb over his lips. Blood. Blood that was now seeping from his mouth. The room is quiet, not a peep. But then the sound of laughter. It was manic. Wicked. And craziest of all, it wasn’t coming from the man who’d thrown the first punch.

It was the enigma himself.

So this was what it felt like to be punched? To taste blood? To stand up and fight instead of running? To laugh in the face of danger. And it felt so good.

The metalhead looks up at the giant man. His teeth, bloodied red. A terrifying smile of nightmares. He stands planted on his two feet again.

“You want some more, freak?” The large man says, swinging a fist in the air once again only this time Eddie swiftly ducks out the way. He surges forward at the large man, full speed, sliding from under him so that he is now right behind the man.

Eddie quickly climbs on top of the bar table. “You’re not so big from where I’m standing,” He quips then points at the liquor hose in the bartender’s hands. “Hey, could I borrow that?”

The bartender hands it over. Holding the nozzle over the giant man’s head, Eddie's famous smirk is the only warning. The man could barely register what was going on before the trigger’s pulled, beer spraying and trickling down his head.

The large man was now wet and red with anger. Eddie makes no haste with his next move, spatting blood in the bully’s face and uppercutting him with a kick to his chin. The large man goes down with a loud thud. The room is in an uproar of applause and thus the beer dumping incident became a fan favorite legend. To this day, fans of Corroded Coffin pay homage at concerts, dumping cans of beer on their heads.

The band was soon tossed out of the venue that night and although Eddie’s friends had sung their praises, he couldn’t help but to feel guilty having ruined their biggest gig.

Then, he was approached by that very bartender on his way back to his van. The one who’d soon change the trajectory of his life. The one that promised a life of glitters and gold. Eugene Neds had sold Eddie a dream. A dream that was disguised as a lending hand to the young man.

“I can make Corroded Coffin a household name.” He says, holding out a business card.

A former manager of countless failed bands, Eugene was convinced he’d finally found the kind of talent that would free him of the depressing bore of a penniless 9 to 5. Eddie Munson would be his project. His success story of taking a teenage dirtbag with the attitude and skills and molding him into a sex symbol. Thus creating ‘Francis The Freak’.

But then… YOU came along. The rockstar’s undoing. You were tearing down the walls that were so perfectly built.

Mr. Neds calls it: You’ll be the end of Eddie and his band. The only form of control Mr. Neds has now would be keeping your relationship with Eddie under wraps. He’ll be patient, though. He knows this couldn’t possibly last between you two. Certainly, you were just another pair of legs that captured his short attention span until he eventually got bored.

Mr. Neds snaps out of his thoughts at the sounds of your giggling, eyes looking at the rearview mirror from his seat on the tour bus. You and Eddie were cozied up in the back, him showing you some scars.

“So, that explains the NPC-like behavior of your fans dumping beers on their heads or asking you to spit on them,” You deduce. “I’m glad to be in the know. This’ll be great tying that into my last article.”

“Did you really say NPC? As in Non-Player Character? You little nerd, am I rubbing off on you?” Eddie teases, poking your tummy.

“Hey, I know things.” You laugh, poking him back. “But you shouldn’t solve everything with fists. I’ve never known you to be a fighter.”

“I’m a lover, but I’m no pacifist.”

“You, a lover?”

“Mhm, want me to demonstrate?” His mouth attacks your neck, you squeal in delight.

So lost in each other, you couldn’t have noticed the manager’s demands to the driver to halt the bus. He had grown more and more frustrated at the sight of you and Eddie being so close. He decidedly gets out of his seat, walking down the aisle past the bandmates who could immediately sense something about to go down but all they could do was follow with their eyes as the manager made his way over to you.

“Y/n, Eddie…I’ll need you to test a theory for me. Stand beside one another.” The manager demands, breaking your moment together.

“What’s your point?” Eddie asks, squinting his eyes.

“We need to make sure that you both won’t look so ‘friendly’ with one another,” The manager explains. “The media are bloodhounds. One whiff of the hormones circulating between you would send them into a frenzy and next thing ya know you’re on the cover of yet another magazine.”

“Are you suggesting that the chemistry between us is so intense that remotely standing beside each other would give us away?” You ask, incredulously.

“Precisely.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘delusional’?” You question rhetorically, causing Eddie to chuckle.

“Not delusional. Perceptive.”

“You weren’t very ‘perceptive’ when Eddie and I got together.” You smirk.

“I’ve suspected. I just chose to ignore it. It only became too difficult to deny when the two of you became sloppy with it.” Mr. Neds scoffs.

“We can totally stand beside each other without being ‘friendly’.” Eddie defends.

“Oh, is that so?” Mr. Neds asks, mockingly. “Because right now, right before my eyes, I see you and Eddie sat extremely close on this loveseat with his hand caressing your thigh…and he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, looking down at the hand that graced your supple skin lovingly. The two of you jump apart as if burned by the other.

“See what I mean,” Mr. Neds lets out a dry laugh. “Now please stand. Both of you.”

“Fine.” You and Eddie mutter in unison.

Standing up at once, your arms knock against each other’s. Your eyes trained at the contact and how close in proximity you both were. You blush, eyes on him. He notices your flustered state, smirking down at you.

“Jesus Christ.” Mr. Neds rubs at his temple, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Oh, they’ve got it bad.” Mel says as he walks in biting nonchalantly into an apple.

“It’s worse than I thought,” The manager groans. “You’re like magnets! You’ll need to stand at least 7 feet apart.”

“7 feet?! How the hell am I supposed to interview and complete my article from 7 feet away?” You argue.

“Anything is possible.” Mr. Neds answers.

“You’re being a real pain in the ass, Eugene.” Eddie says to the 40-something man.

“Welcome to my world,” He retorts. “If 7 feet’s such a big deal then I’ll be reasonable. 5 feet. No more negotiations.”

“This is so stupid.” Eddie shakes his head.

“Don’t be so upset, brother. They say distance makes the heart grow fonder or some bullshit like that. It could actually be quite romantic.” Mel chimes in.

“Mel…get the hell outta here.” Eddie and Mr. Neds sneers together.

Mel exits, a middle finger up in the air while the other brings the apple to his lips.

“Now if we’re going to work together and keep the peace,” The manager begins. “We need to do this my way. No, ‘ands’, ‘ifs’, or ‘buts’ about it. We’ll be at the airport to catch a plane to New York soon so—.”

“Whoa,” Eddie interrupts. “I thought we were going back home?”

“Well, I’ve booked a performance for Corroded Coffin to attend. It was an offer that I couldn’t refuse. A Holiday Parade! And it won’t just be televised in Hawkins like you’re used to. It’ll be all over America. No worries about rehearsals either. Just do everything exactly how you did at Mantra•esque. Ever since that performance, word’s been traveling about the new hot band in town. You’ll have an interview with the hosts of the parade right after so please be on your best behavior.”

“Why am I just now hearing about this?” Eddie’s voice raises.

“Well, you would’ve heard about it along with the boys if you hadn’t snuck out last night.”

“I have even caught my breath yet, man.”

“You had countless nights to rest. You spent them sneaking around with your…girlfriend. Eddie, I only ever want what’s best for you. If I hadn’t discovered you, where do you think you would’ve been?” Mr. Neds rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. A visual much akin to that of a demon resting on gullible shoulders, pleading for their victim to sign away his rights. “You would have still been living in that shitty trailer park while your uncle picked up 12 and 16 hour shifts just to keep a roof over your heads. Remember, you’re not doing this for yourself. This is survival. You understand I only mean well…do you?”

Eddie’s jaw clenches, a quick nod.

“I knew you would. It’s nothing personal, kid. It’s just what they call ‘business as usual’. It’ll only be for a few more days and then you could enjoy all the time you need in Hawkins before the next tour.” The manager pats his back before making his way back up front to inform the driver to get back on track.

Sitting back on the little loveseat, you climb into Eddie’s lap while your arms wrapped around his neck for a hug. “He shouldn’t be allowed to speak to you that way.”

“He’s right, though.” Eddie huffs, caressing your back.

You felt yourself becoming angry for him, pulling away to look him in the eye. “He’s wrong. With or without him, you could do anything. Anyone could’ve seen that light in you. I have. You’ve got something special and no fucking manager could take that away from you, okay.”

Eddie’s stoic expression softens into a warm smile. “Look at you being all protective. Making you my girlfriend’s made you all soft.” He chuckles.

“No one messes with my man,” You shrugged with a smile. “He talks to you like that again and I’ll knock him down a peg or two.”

“That’s very cute,” He kisses the space between your eyebrows. “But you don’t have to defend me, ya know. I’m a big boy.”

“What? You think I couldn’t do it or something?” You ball your fists into your sides.

“Oh, no. My hesitancy is more concerned with how badly you’ll hurt his ego. I still need the man to be able to stand on his two feet if he’s getting this band going.” Eddie jokes.

“But…i-is that what you want? To keep this going?” You asked, twiddling with your thumbs.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

“What about taking a break? You’re going to perform in New York then you’ve got Europe in a week or so. It just seems like a lot.”

“It does seem like a lot. But if I have you beside me, it wouldn’t be so bad,” He catches himself. “In New York, I mean.”

Eddie made sure to include that last part not wanting the inevitable conversation to be brought up. Eventually, it will. As you’ve mentioned, the tour for Europe is approaching. The next time you’ll see each other again wouldn’t probably be for another 6 months. Maybe more. But what really affected him was the idea that you wouldn't think to consider going on tour with him. Especially since a little before bed last night, Eddie had asked you a question that tested everything between you two and all you could do was ignore it and say your goodnight.

“You want me to go to New York with you?” You asked.

He shrugs, shyly. “Well, yeah. I thought it was obvious. You’re fine to say ‘no’.” That response was meant for both situations: New York and Europe.

You take a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll go with you…” Eddie’s eyes lit up until you finished the last part of your sentence. “…to New York.”

“Y-yeah,” He clears his throat then echoes. “To New York.”

————

It was greatly in your favor that Eddie’s manager had decided to keep up with his “5 feet apart” rule, sitting you in separate seats across the aisle from one another. Why? Because you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about “the inevitable conversation”. Eventually…you’ll give your answer. Just not now. Not when things are going so well between you two.

You bury your head in your journal not exactly writing anything of importance, simply scribbling away to keep yourself from wondering if he was looking at you. But curiosity gets the best of you, so you peek up from your journal and catch Eddie’s eyes on you, too. You both look away at once, you resume your doodling nervously.

When you went to look over your shoulder this time, Eddie made a face silly enough to make you giggle and roll your eyes. He points at the journal in your hand, gesturing you to slide it over. You check your surroundings to make sure no one’s looking before doing so.

You waited as he proceeded to write something down. Then, he turned the journal to face you. In big letters: “Hi.”

You smile, waving and mouthing a “Hi” back.

He writes something down again and turns it over to face you. “Writing you here so Neds doesn’t try to listen in.”

You nod to confirm that you understand.

He writes. “What were you writing about?”

He could’ve turned the page to see exactly that but he didn’t wish to invade your privacy. You do the honors. Turning the page to which you scribbled different drawing variations of his name. You’re a little embarrassed to show him that he’s all you’ve been thinking about. But then he smiles eager to show you what he’d been reading.

He holds up his book, opening it to the page where his thumb held it open and reveals a polaroid photo of you looking up at him and him, down at you on the Manta•esque stage. This was his way of letting you know he’s thinking about you, too.

You smiled, writing him back. “How’d you get that?”

“Junie.”

“The camera guy?”

“Yep. Begged him to take at least one picture of you for me. It’s my favorite. I was going to share it with you but, selfishly, I want to keep it for myself.”

Is this really the same guy I met in that dressing room some weeks ago?

“Lovely view we have up here.” He writes.

You shoot him deadpan stare, not amused by the airplane joke. He tugs at the collar of his shirt in feigned nervousness before gesturing for the journal again. He writes. “Okay, I can see how that aviation joke went over your head.”

Still unamused. You wrote back. “I really appreciate corny jokes but these are just painfully bad.”

“Are you saying my jokes didn’t…land?”

“Please stop. If you’re going to tell airplane jokes, at least tell the Wright ones.”

Now he’s the one to look at you unamused and confused.

You scribbled quickly to explain yourself. “Get it? Wright. Like the Wright brothers. The first ones to fly an airplane?”

“Sorry, but your knowledge of world history is lost on me. I failed that class miserably.”

“I guess you can say it went over your head.”

“You can’t just repeat my joke. Joke stealing’s no laughing matter.”

Okay, that tickled you a bit. Smiling to yourself, you hadn’t realized Eddie passing you the notebook once again, until you felt the pages brush your arm.

“Think you can meet me in the restroom in 5?”

You scoff out loud. “I hope you're not thinking about what I think you’re thinking about.”

“I wanna talk.” He simply writes.

How could three words be so frightening? So ominous? Your heart pounds hard, daring to jump out of your chest.

“Are we not talking now? What would you need to talk about that can’t be said here?”

You anticipated his reply. Leaning over your seat, trying to peek but more so averting your eyes. You mindlessly picked at the skin around your fingernails, nerves getting the best of you.

With a solemn face, he holds out the journal to you. You meet his eyes then down at his hands, hesitating to reach for the book. The regretful look on Eddie’s face gave away that he was second guessing what he’d written down. When your fingertips grazes it, it falls out of his hand with an audible slap to the ground.

The two of you scramble to reach for it, kneeling down. Your hands accidentally touch in the attempt to take the book for yourselves. Instead of pulling away, you both ceased your frantic movements. Eddie’s thumb caressing the palm of your hand. You focus on this action then look into his big brown eyes.

The bing of the attendant assistance button pulls you out of the trance. Taking the notebook, you stand on your two feet and hug it to your chest. With a stern nod of confirmation, you stride your way down the first class aisle towards the restroom.

You shut the door behind, back rested against it as you let out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding. Eyes closed, you peel the notebook away from you. Your hands are outstretched in front of you and when you were sure it was directly in your field of vision, you opened your eyes and read.

“Europe.”

So it began. The inevitable conversation. There’s rhythmic knock and you were sure it was him, stepping away from the door and facing it. He opens it enough to let him slide through before he closing it behind him quietly.

“Hi.” He breathes out.

“Hi.” You say in quick breath as if you were scared to breathe at all.

“I guess you read the note.”

You don’t say a word, nodding tentatively.

“Y/n, I—“

“Why’re you calling me that?” You interrupt.

“You mean…your first… name?” He says, eyes squinting in confusion.

“Yeah. You usually call me some stupid pet name. What are we on first name bases now?”

“I thought you didn’t like it?” His eyebrow raises.

“It’s grown on me.” Your face grows hot as you cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Besides, do you just call me those names simply because I don’t like it.”

“At first, yeah. But I do it now because I like you.”

Your face grows even hotter, hoping he doesn’t see the effect he has on you right now. You should be upset, girl! “So, what gives? Why aren’t you calling me a vixen or a babe or whatever the fuck?”

“I just figured it’d be more appropriate for what I’ve got to say,” He explains before taking a deep breath. “I’d like to---”

You couldn’t bring yourself to hear much more of it. Okay. So he wants to talk about the tour in Europe? What exactly does he want from you? You couldn’t possibly give him an answer he’d be happy to hear.

“I’m sorry,” You cut him off again. “I didn’t want to talk about it. I wanted to forget. To pretend that there was no tour so that I can enjoy being in the present, being with you. But now I know that sometimes…it’s okay to face the inevitable. So…I think I’m ready now.”

“You’re ready?” He says, eyes shimmering despite the dimly lit environment.

“Yes,” You confirmed, lowering your head to keep him from seeing your tears. “I know what you’re going to say. And you’re right. We should break up and—”

“What the hell are you talking about? I never mentioned breaking up. I hadn’t mentioned much at all since you kept interrupting.”

“You didn’t need to mention it. The signs are all there.”

“Really? Because I’m trying to see them for myself. They must be—I don’t know—invisible. Nonexistent.”

“You can’t possibly think I can just throw my career away to be some groupie for you.”

“You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t go on that tour with you, Eddie. I have my dream and you have yours. I can’t put my work on the line when I’ve gotten this far.”

“So long distance not a thing?”

“I couldn’t do that to you. It wouldn’t be right. You’re gonna be a star. You’ll meet plenty of women who’d want you. I don’t want to hold you back. I just won’t do it. You deserve to be free to be with whoever you want.”

“You’re un-fucking-believable, Y/n,” He towers over you. “You have no right to make these decisions for me. That’s for me to decide. I’m tired of people telling me what to do, how to feel, what to think. I may not be the brightest but I’m not stupid. What about what I want?”

“What do you want?!”

“You, woman! I want you!”

“If you want me because you think I’ll be this doting girlfriend of your dreams who’s at your side at all times, who ‘sits down and shuts up’, constantly obeying your wishes; I am not that kind of girl.”

“Okay.” He shrugs, demeanor cool and collected.

“Okay? As in…”

“Okay, as in ‘I’m not asking you to be the girl of my dreams’. You already are, goddamn it. As stubborn, self-righteous and bitchy as you can be, I admire every part of you. Good or bad. I want you to have control over your own decisions and be unfiltered as you are. But sometimes, you do need to learn when to shut the hell up and listen to what I’m trying to tell you.”

You began to seethe at his words, opening your mouth to protest only for him to put his palm over it. He shushes you, his free hand putting a finger to his lips. “I’m gonna remove my hand now. You’ll be quiet, right?” He searches your glass-like eyes. You nod slowly, your stare holding sincerity.

“Good girl,” He praises, pulling his hand away. He straightens his composure as if to prepare himself for his own news. “I won’t be going on tour. I’ll follow you.”

Now you’re shaking your head at him. “No. You couldn’t. This is your chance!”

“There’ll be plenty of tours in the future. We can have time for each other until then. Get to know each other well enough so that you’ll start to believe me when I say there’s no one else I’d want besides you.”

Your eyes, the size of saucers. “Are you out of your fucking mind?! I would never ask you to do something like that.”

“That’s the thing. It’s my choice. I’m practicing this thing called ‘autonomy’. It’s quite refreshing actually.”

“It’s stupid!”

“That’s just your opinion.”

“It’s 100% fact,” You notice him approaching you slowly and closely. He’s got that devilish grin playing on his lips. “Stay away from me. 5 feet apart, remember?”

You place a hand on his chest, stopping any attempt for him to move further. He looks down at your shaky hand. He knows it’s futile, so he laughs. “We followin’ rules now?”

“I said, stay the fuck away, Munson.” You squeaked.

“That doesn’t sound very confident,” He chuckles darkly. “You sure you want me to stay away?”

You let out a shaky breath. He bites his lip. This shouldn’t excite him as much as it did, but he was HARD. And it didn’t help that the turbulence brought his attention to your full breasts bouncing temptingly in his gaze. Even covered by your scantily clad tank top, it was see-through enough to leave little to the imagination. He grasps your wrist, pulling your hand off his chest to hold.

He knew exactly how to push your buttons. You hate to admit it, but you were turned on, too. The wetness pooling in your underwear was undeniable.

“I think you like it when I’m this close,” He lets go of your wrist, testing the waters and taking another step. This time you don’t stop him. “I’m sure you remember the way I make you feel when my hand is between your legs.”

“Eddie…” You pleaded.

“You know what else I think, you wanted me to follow you the whole time. Is that why you ask if I wanted to keep the tour going? Why you’ve made me wait hand and foot for an answer? So, you can break me.”

“Not true.” You whimpered.

“Then, you manipulate me into thinking I’m breaking up with you,” He laughs incredulously. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, little vixen. I thought you were better than that,” His fingers coil around your neck tight, but not tight enough to cut off any air circulation. “But you couldn’t get rid of me that easily. Even if you were to leave me right now, you wouldn’t be able to forget me. You’d still feel me here.”

He cups your mound and your mouth drops, knowing that your cover was blown. You were sure that he’d feel you soaking your underwear. It was a blessing and a curse that you decided to wear a skirt today.

“We shouldn’t.” You gasped as he squeezed you down there enough to feel his rings digging into your cotton panties.

Oh yes, we should!

His lips ghosts over the shell of your ear. “You’ve broken me, kitten. Now’s my turn to break you.”

“Let me go.” You whispered weakly.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” He says, tone rich and deep. “There is no letting you go. You’d think I’d ever let another man touch you like this.”

He rolls a thumb over your nipple, perked up for him to tend to. A small moan escapes your lips, causing you to bite them in an attempt to cease any more sounds.

“I couldn’t even begin to imagine someone else hearing those pretty sounds eaving your lips,” With the hand still cupping your face, he swipes his thumb over your full lips and caresses the slightly-healed scar. “Couldn’t even bring myself to use your moans in my songs cause they’re meant for my ears only.”

“How do you think I feel? I get nauseous just imagining you with another girl,” You admit, eyes staring up in hopeless surrender to him. You grow as intensely possessive as him. Your bodies are so close, chests flushed together. Nails digging into his shoulders, you lay a desperate kiss on his lips that makes him feral. “I’m not usually the jealous type but I want you all to myself.”

“You have me.” He whispers, biting down on your soft bottom lip as he cups your butt and guides you to straddle his thigh. Slipping your panties to the side, he presses his thigh into your now exposed core. You knew exactly what he wanted, grinding against the fabric of his jeans. The rough material of the denim against your clit was a delicious surprise to you.

Eddie slips his tongue into your mouth and you immediately suck on the appendage. It felt like you were so in sync with the rhythm of your bodies. Your moans into the kiss competing with one another.

You loved when you got to hear the effect you had on him even without him being inside you. Your hands travel down to the dip in his back, pulling him closer (if it were even possible to be closer than you already were).

You ride his thigh, foreheads against one another and eyes locked. Noticing the erection straining against his jeans, you palm and squeeze it. He thrusts into your hand, pursuing further contact. The two of you work to unbutton his jeans, lowering the zipper until the pants loosened enough. Spitting into your hands, you dip it past the spandex of his boxers and free him of his restraints. You jerk him in your hands at the same tempo you moved your hips against him.

“I don’t want anyone else to touch you like this,” You pant. “Wanna be the only one.”

“I don’t want anyone else hearing how amazing you look you cum,” Removing his thigh away from between your legs, he shoves two thick fingers into you. You gasp which then melds into a moan at the feeling of being stretched so suddenly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head until Eddie snaps you out of it, gripping your chin and forcing you to face him again. “Eyes on me, little vixen.”

The feeling of his fingers, which were perfectly long enough to hit depths that even your own fingers couldn’t reach, drove you into a level of high you were scared to reach for. You tug his cock harder, faster in your hand and feel the precum coat your fingers with added lubrication.

Your stares grew intensely along with the sounds of your heavy breathing. You were getting lightheaded, knowing that the end was soon approaching.

“Want you inside me.” You begged, not caring enough that you were in an airplane restroom.

“Unh…fuck…not here,” He grunts. “Next time I fuck you will be at my place, in my bed so my sheets could smell like you.”

He wiggles a finger in you, teasing the sensitive trigger. His fingers are shot out of you and you’re squirting before you could even recognize that you’ve come.

“Holy shit, holy shit!” You squeal, vision going white. You convulse under him, hearing him groan and the familiar sticky feeling of his essence running in your hands.

You both cling onto each other moments after, his head to your chest feeling your heart beating erratically. When Eddie finally peels off of you, your body grows cold mourning the loss of his warmth. He cleans the two of you up, taking his time, cleaning between your legs and running a wet paper towel on the palms of your coated hands. He wordlessly watches your eyes tracking his hands, before placing a kiss to your now spotless fingers.

“You ready to go out there?” He asks.

“Could we walk out together?” You curl an arm around his, batting your lashes. You know it’s a risky thing to ask.

“Sure, babe.” A big warm smile plastered on his face.

When he feels as if you’re ready, he gives you a reassuring look before unlocking the door and stepping out. Undeniably, you were sure there would be eyes on you. So, releasing a breath, you walk down the aisle hand in hand with your heads high, ignoring the hushed whispers between passengers.

As the two of you approach the section where Corroded Coffin‘s seated, Mr. Neds looks back furiously in contrast to your blissed out states.

Instead of sitting in his “assigned” seat, Eddie sits beside you, putting an arm around you and smirking at the manager.

“Something wrong…Eugene?” Eddie mocks.

“Really? In the restroom? Are you forgetting we have 15 other passengers with us in a section small enough to hear someone’s heartbeat?” He replies through gritted teeth.

“She was quiet enough. As much as she could, anyway.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Very.”

“I’ll enjoy myself, too, someday. Currently, I’m thinking of how great that tour in Europe will be for you. It's a shame Y/n’s decided she won’t be joining us, though.” Mr.Neds says sarcastically.

“Don’t be surprised if that tour has no effect on me whatsoever. Almost like I’m not there.” Eddie retorts.

The two of them exchanged heated glares at one another. You sigh, sinking down in your seat.

————

It took longer than expected to arrive due to the weather conditions. A day and some hours and about 2 plane transfers to be concise. By the time you’d touchdown, it was practically evening but you couldn’t wait to get off the plane. You’ve never been to New York but you and Chrissy have talked about one day moving there together to make names for yourselves.

Despite Eddie clearly being exhausted from all the performances and trips, your joy rubbed off on him and soon he was just as determined to explore the big city as you.

Entering the terminal, you rush up to the big glass windows to stare out at the bustling streets. It’s really cold but no snowfall just yet.

You felt Eddie’s body pressed up against you, shivering enough to make you shake along with him.

“You okay, Eds?”

“Not really. I’m not dressed for this kind of weather. Guess fashionably torn shirts and tight jeans just aren't enough.My only saving grace is my leather jacket.”

You felt more bodies lean into you for warmth. The boys in the band huddling for warmth since you're the only one sporting a faux fleece coat.

“Hey! She’s off limits.” Eddie growls.

“Aw, come on, bruv. I’m practically naked in this top.” Judas says, pressing hard into your shoulder.

“Yeah, sharing’s caring.” Mel chimes in.

“If there’s anything you fuckers should know about me is that I don’t like sharing.” Eddie says pulling you into his body only for the men to follow after.

“Can’t we all just go shopping and get you all some decent clothing? Not rockstar-related?” You say, voice strained from being crushed between them.

“Being a star means sacrificing comfort for style.” Mr. Neds answers.

“That isn’t fair,” You protest. “You wouldn’t want them catching colds before their performances, would you? They need warm clothes.”

Mr. Neds stares you down then up at the boys who defensively reciprocated hostile stares at him.

“Fine. The new tour bus is awaiting us outside. We need to board it quickly or else—“

“Oh my god! It’s Corroded Coffin!” A voice rings through the terminal and soon all eyes around the terminal land on your group. There’s a beat of silence before screams and heavy thuds of feet fill the air. The fans sprint determinedly towards you.

Security immediately pushes you all outside of the terminal, blocking an entrance. The doors of another unmanned entrance burst open as floods of people come crashing through, running towards the tour bus.

You were paralyzed, shocked by the amount of people rushing over until you felt a hand take yours and tug you inside the bus. Another group of bodyguards standing between the doors to keep the crowd from hopping on top of the large vehicle. As best as they could the 4 bodyguards shoo away the crowd before hopping in and the driver quickly pulls off. Everyone on the bus, panting from the exertion of escaping.

“Look at that! Just a small town band, now your name’s being heard in even more places. Told you I’d make Corroded Coffin a household name.” Mr. Neds says proudly.

You exchanged a look with Eddie, who groaned at the manager’s lack of awareness. With stardom came lack of privacy. You felt a foreboding feeling that somehow your privacy would be compromised as well.

—————

“What do you think of this?” Eddie steps out of the dressing room, a man disguised. His outfit consisted of some light gray sweatpants, white kicks, and a basic white long sleeve shirt under his leather jacket. To top it off, his signature wilf curls had been stuffed into his black skully hat for better effect.

“You look great but wouldn’t you want to dress in coordination with your band?” You inquire.

Eddie’s bandmates had done the opposite of dressing casually. Going for the flashiest, expensive clothing.

“Nah, they’ll just end up getting us chased again,” Eddie laughs before looking over his shoulders then whispering. “I’m thinking we ditch ‘em.”

“Eddie…” You began but then suddenly you felt like you were in the mood for an adventure. “Know what…I’m ready for anything. What’d you have in mind?”

He’s taken aback. “The good girl’s looking for trouble?”

“I don’t have to look far. You’re the embodiment of it.” You tease.

“Correct as always, my dear.” He says in a silly posh accent, taking your hand and guiding you to sneak past the guards.

Then, you hear the sound of Eddie’s manager yelling from behind you. “Stop those two!”

You turn to your boyfriend, eyes wide. “Run.”

Next thing you knew, you’re both gunning it out the shopping mall, the bodyguards close behind.

To anyone on the outside, you were simply a rowdy couple caught doing something bad enough to be chased by men in black. After a couple twists and turns around the corner and a few “watch where ya goings”, Eddie leads you down the stairs of a subway station. You were sure you’d lost them until you saw them treading down the stairs a few seconds after.

Eddie pulls out a subway card from his pocket.

“Where’d you get that?” You questioned, panting as you ran.

“I swiped it off one of the guards,” Eddie laughs, also panting. “My dad was a pro pickpocketer.”

“We’ll need to unpack that sometime.”

Swiping the card in the machine, Eddie pushes through the turnstiles but when he swipes the card for your entrance, an error message shows up explaining that you have to wait at least 3 minutes for the next swipe. After a couple tries of the turnstiles not budging, you look over your shoulder and notice the guards closing in.

“What do I do?” You panic.

“Jump over!” He holds out his arms.

Grabbing either side of the gate, you hop over the turnstiles and into his arms just as the men reached you. The two of you resume running, this time having some distance from the guards.

As if your prayers had been answered, a train makes its stop at your station. Rushing in, you and Eddie gloat at the approaching bodyguards as the doors shut and the train pulls away. Clinging to the hand rail above you, you both pant in exhaustion which quickly morphed into laughter.

“You’re a bad influence.” You tease, hitting his shoulder lightly.

“You love it.” He retorts.

The words “you” and “love” in the same sentence. It is so strange that you hung onto them at this moment like they had any meaning outside of its context. But what would it be like to hear those words in a different arrangement? One where it felt more of a confession rather than a dismissive play on words.

Your hand slips caused by the jutting train, sending you out of your thoughts and straight into Eddie’s free arm.

“Geez, kitten. If you wanted a hug, you could’ve just asked,” He jokes. “You don’t have to throw yourself at me.”

Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeeze tight, cheeks squished against his chest. “I could use one.”

He melts into your embrace with an arm around you while the other keeps you both planted to the ground. It doesn’t matter to him that you were in a crowded train where anyone could spot you together because Eddie felt like he'd taken a trip in a time machine.

He’s like a teenager all over again. Sneaking around and running from the trouble he’s caused, but most of all, he felt this way being with you. Maybe he didn’t get that chance to impress you back then… but he has you now.

So lost in you, he hadn’t registered the light tap on his shoulder until accompanied by a said, “Munson?” From a familiar voice. Eddie turns around and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“Emerson?”

“Holy shit! It is you! Almost didn't recognize you with the hat,” A more mature Gareth stood in your presence. The two boys go in for a bear hug while talking over each other in their excitement. “You look great!”

“Can’t say the same for you, man. You look like shit.” Eddie laughs.

“Fuck off,” Gareth laughs. “I just got off my shift. What are you doing in New York?”

“I should be asking you the same. Hadn’t heard from you or Jeff in 2 years.”

“We moved to New York. They say it’s where everyone’s making a name for themselves.”

“You guys still make music?”

“Hell yeah, we do,” Gareth nods. “Ya know ever since, the band got separated. We knew we couldn’t stop rocking. You wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Good to hear that, bro.”

“And what about you? What’s gotcha in the big city? Tour, maybe.”

“Not exactly a tour. Just a performance and an interview.”

“Aw shit, man. That’s wicked as hell. Rockstar life’s been treating you good it seems. I bet you get tons of chicks,” Gareth says excitedly, ignorant to Eddie’s panicking glare. “How many girls have you—“

He’s interrupted by you clearing your throat stepping out from behind Eddie. “Hello, Emerson.”

He gasps, pointing between the two of you. “Y/n…Eddie…you two are together?”

“Yep, she’s my girl.” Eddie curls an arm around your waist.

“Wow, I’m honestly surprised considering your first article on him. But Eddie did always have a little thing for you back in high school. I’m sure he made it his mission to win you over.”

“S-shut up, dickhead.” Eddie stutters, blushing.

“You read my article?” You ask, a smile creeping up on your lips.

“Oh, yeah. Everyone’s talking about it especially since Corroded Coffin’s performance at Mantra•esque. If ever I need exposure, I’m calling you for an article on mu band. Speaking of which,” Gareth searches through his jeans pocket, pulling out a flier. “You guys should stop by at this Battle of the Bands event tonight at 10. That’s in a couple hours from now so you won’t have to go back and forth until then. It’s at this cool ass venue they call a ‘speakeasy’ in Koreatown. You’ve gotta have a password and everything to get in that shit. Jeff and I will be performing along with our new guitarist, Brody. You’ll dig him. He’s chill.”

You look in the corner of your eye, feeling Eddie tense beside you at the mention of the new member.

“Our band’s called ‘TSNP’,” Gareth continues. “Thou Shall Not Pass. Will you be there, Eds?”

“I…could try. It’s just that I’ll be busy with rehearsals. So, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to make it, man.” Eddie lies.

“Oh…right. Well, that sucks,” A hint of disappointment in his tone. “Jeff would’ve been super stoked to see you. Sid, too. But I understand you're a big rockstar now.”

There’s silence between them. You shake your head at the men too prideful in expressing their true feelings despite supposedly being best friends.

The rest of the trip remained this way until the train halts to a stop at another station. When the doors open, Gareth makes his way over to them, stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel to look over at his friend one last time.

“When you left, we stopped making music for a while. Just didn’t feel the same. Then, I heard your song on the radio and it brought me back. It would’ve been really great if you had some time to see us play,” Gareth scans Eddie’s features and when he doesn’t get a reaction from him, he sighs. “Have a good night.” Sending you a small wave, he steps out and train’s moving forward again.

You turn to look at Eddie, arms crossed and disappointed. ”There are no rehearsals. It’s not fair to lie to him like that nor is it fair for you not to come and support. They’re your best friends. You have your band, why can’t they?”

“It’s not like I’m the one who chose to replace ‘em.”

“I know. But it’s okay to admit when something hurts,” You give him a small smile to lighten the mood. “I’m sure it hurt them having to make the decision to replace you just as much as it hurt you performing on a big stage without them. They’re chasing their dreams, too. It doesn’t mean they don’t want you to be a part of it. He did invite you, didn’t he? It’s like he said you’re the reason he was brought back.”

“You’re right.” He sighs.

“Of course, I am. I’m always right,” You tease then solemnly say. “No one’s gonna take that bond you all share. Not unless you continue to push them away.”

He nods, not saying a word. Thinking things over until the train makes another abrupt stop. The two of you exit hand in hand into the unexplored territory.

————

You were a lot more appreciative of the quiet moments you and Eddie sometimes had to yourselves. Where you got bask in the intimacy of normalcy. Lately, ever since Corroded Coffin's popularity, it’s constantly felt as if there were people lurking in the shadows, waiting on your next move.

Although, you must say it’s hard basking in the glory with your boyfriend’s face plastered on billboards around the city.

“Your manager’s not entirely wrong,” You say, pointing at the billboard. “Look at you guys up there. You'll probably be as big as Kiss someday.”

“You flatter me…but no,” He pats your head. “They’re untouchable.”

“I mean it, though. You shook the world. I can’t imagine you wanting to leave it behind now. I thought you wanted this tour.”

“I know what you’re trying to do here and I appreciate you considering my career but I’ve got my priorities straight. It took some thinking—not much—but I didn’t need a lot of time to realize I’d rather be with you.”

You try to contain the butterflies fluttering within you. “Now who’s become soft?”

“Shut it,” He laughs, pulling you against him and planting a kiss on your lips then neck until you suddenly pull away. “Did I do something wrong?”

You take him by the shoulders, guiding him to do a 180 degree turn. “There’s Coney Island in the distance. Wanna go?”

“I’m up for it. But just so you know, I like scary rides.”

“Aw, you don’t have to concoct a scheme to get me to cling to you, baby. I like scary rides, too,” Hands clasped behind your back, you teasingly walk circles around him then ahead towards the direction of the bright lights competing with the starry sky. You look over your shoulder and say, “I’ll still hold onto you, though… you’d like.”

He dramatically fakes offense, resting a hand over his heart. “I’m insulted that you would think I’d stoop so low. When would I ever deny the chance for you to hold onto me?”

“Then, what’re you standing all the way back there for? Come here and let me hold you.” You shout from behind you. Something about today made you feel extremely flirtatious. Maybe it was for the reason that Eddie was incognito, allowing you the chance to unabashedly enjoy each other’s company.

Eddie’s eyes now trained on the sway of your hips. “Just a second. I’m enjoying my view.”

You giggle. He rushes up behind you and wraps his arms around you, rocking you side to side. Your cute little game of cat and mouse comes to an abrupt end when you both enter the theme park and are met with scattered patrons all over the park with their heads buried in a magazine…with your faces on them.

“No.” You say, cupping your hands over your mouth in shock.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie voices his frustration, eyes squeezed shut.

“That bastard,” You say through gritted teeth. You would have said that it was your fault for posting the article regarding Cole’s scandal. But you hadn’t gotten the chance to publish it, yet. “He was going to post it regardless of whether I’d accept his terms.”

You spot a nearby telephone pole. “I’m calling him and giving him a piece of my goddamn mind,” You say, strutting towards the payphone when Eddie grips your arm. You sneer a “what” at him.

“It’s not worth it. He’ll just try to provoke you which’ll then provoke me.”

You groan, running your hands over your face. “What do we do?”

“The only thing we can do: accept it.”

“Should we leave?”

“No. We’ll enjoy our time here while we can because as soon as we go back. We face reality.” Eddie holds out his hand.

You take it, exhaling and proceeding forward. “Okay but as a heads up, I’m definitely going to take down that man.”

“By all means, crush him,” Your boyfriend encourages. “Now let’s make you forget.”

“How do you suppose we do that?”

“Ferris Wheel, possibly. It’s the only ride without a giant line to wait in. We could talk…and other things.”

You snort. “What ‘things’ could you possibly do on a ferris wheel?”

He simply smirks, walking ahead of you this time. The boy is a menace.

You were considerably glad no one had recognized you from the magazine despite a good amount of park goers including the person operating the ferris wheel having the magazine in hand. After waiting in line patiently, it was your turn to board the ferris wheel car and take your seats.

“Some much needed alone time.” Eddie exhales his relief, both your heads thrown back against the wall of cart in exhaustion.

Not soon after exclaiming this, you both hear the sound of gum popping which causes you to raise your heads simultaneously. Seated in the chair across was a child, somewhere between the ages of 7-9, smacking away at her gum and kicking her feet.

“Hi!” She says, cheerfully.

“Hi, sweetie,” You return the greeting. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Beverly. Also Bev. I’m 8 years old! What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n. That’s Eddie.” You point to Eddie who seemed uncomfortable.

“He looks scared. Are you scared of the ride, Eddie? It’s not scary. See?” Beverly gestures to herself seated.

“You okay, Eddie?” You asked, concerned.

He leans over, whispering to you as not for the little girl to hear. “It’s just…little kids freak me out, ya know. They always ask so many questions, forcing me to question my own existence.”

“It’s okay. I’ll take it from here,”You turned your attention back to the little girl. “Beverly, what are you doing here all alone? Where are your parents or guardians?”

“I wanted to ride the ferris wheel. Mommy said I couldn’t ride because it was bad. But I really wanted to.”

“Sweetie, it’s not okay to disobey your mother. Especially when she means well. She’s probably worried sick looking for you. I have an idea. Once this ride’s over, I’ll help you find her.”

“But she’ll be so angry.”

“Rightfully so, sweetie. But she’ll only be mad because she loves you.”

“So I can’t stay here?”

“You can’t run away from your problems. There’s a time where you’ve gotta face ‘em head on,” You were thinking maybe you should practice what you preach considering that running is exactly what you’ve been doing. “Tell ya what? I will have a talk with your mother to smoothen things over so she wouldn’t be too angry.”

“You promise?” She says, outstretching her arm and holding out her pinky.

“Promise.” You intertwine your pinky with hers.

“So when do you think we’ll get off this ride?” She asks.

“A few minutes or so.” You answered.

“Really? Even when it’s standing still.”

“Standing still?” Your eyes bugged out, looking over at Eddie who was just the same.

“Fuck! The Ferris Wheel’s stopped!” He exclaims.

“No swearing, Eds. Let’s not corrupt the kid.”

“Did you hear what I said?” He groans, standing up in the cart and walking back and forth.

“Yes! And could you please stop that? You’re wiggling the cart around.”

“I can’t help it. I hate confined spaces.”

“It’ll be okay,” You reassure him. “I’m sure it won’t be long before help.

The sound of a safety horn rings and then the click of a bullhorn. “Passengers, we’re experiencing some technical difficulties. Please allow 30 minutes for help to arrive and another 30 minutes to repair this issue. Please stay put and be safe. Thank you.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic.” Eddie throws his hands up before sinking down to the floor, head in his hands.

You sit beside him. “I didn’t know you were claustrophobic.”

“I’m not but sometimes confined spaces remind me of a certain point in my life…Juvie.”

“You’ve been to juvie?” You asked.

“It’s okay not to be surprised,” He laughs. “But yeah, I have.”

“No, I really am surprised. I never considered it,” You assure. “If you don’t mind me asking…how’d it happen?”

“It’s because I wanted to be like my dad. Ya know, the pro pickpocketer. Well, that wasn’t all he taught me. I learned how to hotwire different vehicles, dismantle and rebuild cars, how to pickpocket, taught me the ins and outs of ‘get rich’ quick schemes, taught me how to deal drugs…the whole nine. I remember wanting to be just like him,” He says. “I never cared much when my mother wasn’t around because he was there. Maybe he wasn’t the best father figure or as present as a parent should be. But when he was there, life didn’t seem so bad. Then one day we’re having some beers on the porch—I was 12, by the way—talking shit and listening to greatest hits. The cops came to arrest me because witnesses saw me stealing parts from a car. Parts that my father begged me to steal because he was too high off his own shit to do it himself. In custody, my dad says, ‘Don’t you worry, buddy. I’ll get you outta there.’ I really wanted to believe he was telling the truth.” Eddie laughs dryly, shaking his head.

Then he continues. “That was the last I saw of him and he didn’t even have the decency to look me in the eyes and say he’s sorry. I was sentenced for 6 months. He never visited me and being in that cell, staring up at the ceiling, alone with my thoughts; I realized it was the first time in my life I knew what it meant to be alone. I found out later he’d been arrested not even a month after my sentencing for serious drug charges. Lock up practically for good. Uncle Wayne took me in even when he hadn’t spoken with my dad in years. Hell, he didn't even know I existed until the guards called him looking for an immediate family member who'd be willing to take me in.”

Your heart broke at the sound of that. To know that he had such a rough childhood but he still managed to be Eddie was remarkable.

“I owe Wayne for everything I am now. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve been a dirtbag just like my dad.”

“I’m so sorry.” You say, rubbing his back.

You weren’t sure the right words to say or if you should say anything at all. The little girl, Beverly, slides off her seat, sitting on the ground along with you. Her tiny backpack in front of her as she rummages through it, pulling out a tiny pink book then holds it out to Eddie.

You both look down at it. Eddie, hesitant but otherwise he takes it in his hands.

“My dad is in jail, too,” Beverly says. “Even though I miss him, I think he’s better there than when he’s with me and mommy. At home, he was mean and scary sometimes. Mommy says he’s better now. I think so, too. He calls me princess like he used to. Once he told me that if I'm ever sad or scared, do something I like. He likes to draw. Like me.” She points at the book.

“It’s not creepy drawings of people being buried, is it?” Eddie says, fear sprinkled in his tone.

You discreetly shove his back with your shoulder. “What he means to say is, ‘are you giving us permission to look at your drawings?’”

Beverly nods, a small smile on her face.

Eddie flips through the pages and he’s caught by surprise. They were quite beautifully drawn for something done by an 8 year old. Gothic drawings of birds, spiders, landscapes and such.

“These are actually really cool.” Eddie praises.

“You’ve done these all by yourself?” You ask, also charmed by the work.

“Mhmm,” The little girl hums proudly. “Well, not all of it. Sometimes, dad starts a drawing and I finish it at home. Then, I start a drawing and he finishes it. He says it’s how we can commemorate with each other.”

“I think you mean, ‘communicate’,” You giggle. “That’s a beautiful story, Bev.”

“He also draws on people’s skin,” She adds, pointing to the matching tattoo you and Eddie had gotten. “Like that.”

You smile at your boyfriend, him, back at you in quiet appreciation; reminiscent of your time together so far.

“Hey, kid, I’ve got a friend I’ll be seeing soon,” Eddie grins. “He’s in a new band and I’d like to give him a little gift. I could use some help with creating a new logo for his band. Think you could make one for me while we kill time?”

Beverly beams. “Yeah!”

The little girl immediately takes out art supplies from her bag, taking the book for him to start on a new blank page.

“Did you mean that? We’re going to Gareth’s show?”

He nods, squeezing your hand. “Yeah.”

“Don’t just sit there?” Beverly chastises. “Gimme some ideas.”

Eddie chuckles, leaning over the page and springing ideas with her while you watch in amusement.

————

After 50 minutes, Eddie and Beverly became a close pair. You’d barely spoken with how much the two had gotten along.

“And she’s all, ‘You’re not invited because you’re weird.’” Beverly says in a mocking tone.

“No.” Eddie says in disbelief.

“Yeah and everyone in class had an invitation. She’s always been a real bully. Sometimes she shoves me, pulls my hair…and it makes me angry. Like I want to hurt her.”

Eddie scoffs. “I’ve known asshats like that back in school, too. Wouldn’t even look in my direction because I didn’t have the latest shoes or clothes.”

“Language, Eddie.”

“Sorry, I meant ‘butthats’,” Eddie says, causing Beverly to giggle wildly and nearly color outside the lines. Eddie whispers. “Some advice: don’t stoop down to a bully’s level because then you’ll become a bully, too. It happened to me. I thought solving everything with fists would somehow get people to stop messing with me but it only made me feel worse. It’s okay to stand up for yourself but it’s also okay to tell someone what you're going through. Like an adult.”

You smile at his advice, realizing that he’d listened to you.

He’s becoming really mature.

“However, she did hit you first so it’s only fair game that you get to hit her back.” He adds.

Ooh, so close.

“All done!” Beverly holds up the drawing.

Eddie takes the page, scanning it. It was of a spider spinning a web in the shape of a guitar, a giant cross in the background. It looks badas—“ You shoot him a look. “It’s really cool, kid.”

A whirring sound picks up and the ride’s moving again, the three of you erupt in cheers. When you’d finally reached the bottom, a woman full of fear stood there waiting on the sidelines. Her eyes lit up the moment she saw Beverly.

“Bev! Baby.” Her mother sobs in relief, arms opened wide.

“Mommy!” The little girl jumps into the mother’s arms.

“What did I tell you about leaving my side?! I knew you’d be here. You just don’t quit, do you?” Her mother scolds.

“Ahem.” Beverly says, clearing her throat cuing you.

“Hello, Beverly’s mother,” You waved, introducing yourself. “It’s wonderful meeting you. I’m Y/n and this is Eddie. We found her riding alone and talked about searching for you when the ferris wheel stopped.”

“Hello. Please call me Martha,” She introduces herself. “I told her that ferris wheel’s always giving up. I’m so sorry. I hope she didn’t cause any trouble with you. She can be quite the handful.”

“No. She was an angel. Even drew us a picture.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Bev,” Her mother smiles down at her. “Thank you so much for keeping her happy. She’s usually scared to ride those things alone. If there’s any way I could thank you…”

“Oh no, that won’t be necessary.” You protest.

“No, no. I’ve got it! If ever you need help planning an event—maybe a party or… wedding,” She darts her eyes between the two of you, handing you a business card. “That's my number right there. I’m a wedding and event planner.”

You blush, profusely. “Umm, okay.”

“Let’s go, Beverly. Say goodbye to the nice people.”

She pouts. “Will I see you guys again?”

You let Eddie have this one. He crouches down to her level and says, “I think so. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be needing a wedding planned or whatever,” You were now blushing so hard that the heat from your face could warm you enough from the cold weather. “Or maybe I could get some cool tattoo ideas from the artist herself.” He finishes, winking at her.

The girl beams. Then, she and her mother were on their way. Eddie, waving at her until they couldn’t see each other anymore.

You smirk at him. “Well, would you look at that. You’ve overcome your fear of children.”

“She’s pretty cool. Reminds me a lot of myself.”

“She’s very special. Bright, too. I think she’s helped me work out a lot up there than any therapy session I’ve had in years.”

“Somehow the universe keeps sending people our way because you and I could use a little push. We’re very stubborn people, ya know. Although, I’m a Taurus. What’s your excuse?”

You laughed. “So are we going to this show or are we going to discuss signs now?”

“Don’t you wanna debate how un-Taurus like I am,” He jokes. “Alright. Let’s go so see TSNP. Dumb name by the way. Hope Gareth didn’t come up with it.”

“Do you think we’ll make it to their performance on time?”

“I think so. But if we don’t, I’d still like to go for the support,” He smiles and curls an arm around your shoulders. “Then you and I could go back and face reality.”

You rest your head on his, walking out of the park; ignorant to the magazines with your faces on them.

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