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#joe quinn x reader
queenimmadolla · 9 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲
(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)
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Summary: . . . You and your kids wake Eddie up with a surprise for Father's Day. warnings: fluff and Eddie being down bad for Reader 🤭, implications of baby making.
word count: 2k
more dad!eddie here
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“'Shhh', mama?” Your four year old asked as she trailed behind you in the hallway.
  “Yeah, we have to be quiet so you can wake daddy up with a surprise.” You were trying not to make too much noise with the flowers, wrapped in apparently the world’s loudest brown paper, hitching your nine-month old up higher on your hip.
  Thank goodness neither of your kids were in a fussy mood, especially considering you’d gotten them up early after the terrible night before. Wayne had a new tooth coming in, he was absolutely miserable and your poor baby made sure to let everyone know. He’d been wailing most of the night and Eddie took it upon himself to soothe him, rubbing some baby friendly orajel along his gums, massaging them with fingers dipped in cool water, and offering frozen teething rings and plenty of comfort in the form of nonstop cuddles.
  He hadn’t joined you in bed until the early hours of the morning, which worked out perfectly. Eddie had been dead asleep when you got up, squishing a pillow you’d planted in place of yourself to his chest.
  Next came getting the kids ready, which was also surprisingly easy. Penny was pliant with sleep, letting you dress her without whining (she kept trying to lean forward so she could rest on you and go back to sleep—it was the cutest thing) and your baby was still soothed by Eddie’s remedies, letting out content coos as you changed his diaper and also got him ready.
  After a quick trip to a music store downtown (and by quick you meant 45 minutes, Penny took delicate care in picking out another final gift for her daddy and told you not to rush her every time you’d ask her to hurry) and a stop at the flower shop, you arrived back home and it looked like Eddie still hadn’t stirred, which gave you time to make breakfast.
  You’d sat Waynie in his high chair, gave him some cut up pieces of banana to gnaw on—which he did so as aggressively as possible—and went about making pancakes, eggs and bacon (which Eddie liked to devour until he felt ill).
  Penny was of course your little helper, sitting on your lap while you assisted her with whisking the eggs in a bowl for Waynie’s scrambled eggs, and then perched on your hip to help you flip the pancakes. She’d insisted that Eddie’s pancakes all be heart shaped and you loved the idea, so after a couple of failed ones that would be on your plate, you eventually got it down and she wrapped her arms tightly around you in a hug for it.
  Once breakfast was plated and the table was set, you gathered Wayne and the flowers while Penny carried Eddie’s decoy gift towards your bedroom.
  Quietly, you opened the door and peaked in, smiling  at Eddie’s sleeping form.
  “Okay, let’s go wake him up. Shh.” You propped the door open for Penny to slip in before you and she grinned up at you, using her free hand to hold her finger to her lips, she’d be quiet.
  She set the rectangular box on the end of the bed and then climbed on top while you sat Wayne down on the bed.
  He was just starting to crawl, so he very shakily made his way towards Eddie—face planting quite a few times but it didn’t deter your baby.
  Penny looked back at you for confirmation and you nodded in encouragement. That was all the permission she needed.
  “Daddy! Daddy, wake up! It’s daddy’s day! Wakey, wakey!” 
  She poked and prodded at his side when he groaned and shifted onto his back, eyes squinting open. That wasn’t good enough for her, she moved to sit on him and Wayne finally reached him, using his dad’s shoulder to prop himself up enough to sit back on his bum while he let out a happy shriek, chunky little palms slapping eagerly at his dad’s face to do the trick.
  Eddie made a face, nose scrunching up but you could see the smile curling on his lips, dimples appearing.
  “Okay, okay! I’m awake! Stop the assault!” 
  Penny laughed as he sat up, which almost sent her sprawling on the bed but she caught herself on his leg. Eddie tutted, that wouldn’t do.
  Eddie reached out and pushed her off of him and she laughed hysterically as she bounced against the mattress which made the two of you chuckle. For some reason your daughter loved to rough house with him. 
  Penny didn’t stay down for long, quickly crawling back up to lay down along the side of his pillow and Eddie turned his head to look at her after he’d gathered Wayne and sat him on his chest.
  “Happy Fodder’s Day, daddy. You aw the best daddy in the whole wide everywhere.” She whispered to him, very seriously, and he leaned in to give her a smacking kiss on the nose.
  “Thank you, baby.” His voice was raspy but you could detect the emotion under it. Eddie was so gonna choke up.
  “You wanna give him his present?” You prompted her, and Eddie’s head darted in your direction, grin widening at the sight of you in his favorite dress.
  “Oh, yeah!” Penny scurried to the end of the bed and knee-crawled back to Eddie, hands outstretched to offer him the rectangular box.
  “What’s this?” He asked, tucking Wayne into his side so he could grab the box.
  “You gots to open it, daddy.” Penny demanded, eagerly leaning in to stare at the box while he did.
  “Sorry,” you both traded looks of amusement before he took off the lid and moved the tissue paper aside to reveal a new guitar strap; black and decorated with crossbone skulls. “This is for me?”
  “Yeah!” Penny nodded her head ecstatically. “Mommy lemme pickeded it out!”
  “Thank you so much, little pretty one.” Eddie moved his hand to the back of his daughter’s curly little head to bring it in so he could press a kiss to her forehead, then he turned to the baby at his side. “And you, too!”
  He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the sweet smelling curls on his baby’s head. In return, Waynie started gnawing on his arm.
  You sat on the side of the bed and pulled him away from Eddie’s arm. Your son looked at you, affronted,  like you’d committed the ultimate crime until you held a pacifier to his lips. He eagerly gobbled it up and relaxed back against Eddie, once more content as he suckled.
  “Penny, do you wanna go get the other thing?”
  “Wha─?” She looked at you, confused for only a moment before her big brown eyes lit up. “YES, YES, YES!”
  Penny quickly climbed off the bed and ran to her room, where you’d hidden it.
  “What are you up to, trouble?” Eddie asked and you turned your head away from the doorway to find him looking at you, sleepy eyes clouded with love and affection as he reached a hand out to stroke along your exposed thigh.
  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 
  “You’re trying to make me cry again, aren’t you?”
  “Not me, no way. No how.” 
  “I GOS IT, MOMMY!” Penny ran back in, chin raised to peak over the box she carried. It wasn’t too heavy for her, just big.
  She brought it over to you and you handed it to Eddie before pulling her up onto your lap as you watched him unbox it.
  “I wonder what it could b—.” Eddie’s mouth parted just slightly as he pulled a small amp from the box. It wasn’t just any amp. It was an amp you’d sneakily picked up from the music store last week—he had a ton of amps sprawled around the apartment but Eddie’s favorite portable one had recently gone out on him. 
  The amp itself would have been a fantastic gift alone, but you’d taken a few extra steps to personalize it for him. You’d painted the black amp with a solid red background and then let Penny and Wayne paint whatever they wanted on it. 
  Penny had gone all out, making sure to paint her family holding hands on it, along with plenty of depictions of her dad, one of which was him wearing a cape because he was her hero and since Wayne was too little to use a paintbrush, his little hand and foot prints were on it. 
  On one of the sides was your initials (last name replaced with an ‘M’ to represent the Munson name you’d taken on when you’d married him) + EM 4Ever, tucked into a heart with Cupid’s bow shot through it. 
  “SUPISE! D’ya like it, daddy? I drews on it, and it got Waynie’s feets and hans.” Penny looked so proud of herself, smile nearly taking up her entire face.
  Eddie sniffled and you hid your grin in Penny’s hair. You got him.
  He licked his lips and cleared his throat to try and keep himself together but you could see the shine in his eyes when he raised them.
  “I love it so much, baby girl.” He choked out, holding Wayne a little tighter to his side.
  “You wanna give daddy a hug?” You whispered into her ear and she crawled off your lap to throw herself at Eddie, arms wrapping around his shoulders.
  Eddie was careful to make sure Penny didn’t squish Wayne as he held her to his chest, eyes squeezing shut and his freehand cradling the back of her head.
  “I luh you, daddy.” Penny mumbled, resting her cheek on his shoulder.
  “I love you, pretty Penny.” He pressed a multitude of kisses to her curls as he basked in the moment before his eyes shot open and over to you. “What are you doing all the way over there? Get over here and give me some love.”
  You affectionately rolled your eyes before you complied, lifting Wayne out of his arms and into yours to take his place tucked into Eddie’s side. Eddie demanded kisses the moment you were near, and because you loved him, you ignored his god awful morning breath and let him have his way.
  His lips remained pressed to your temple, an arm slipped around your waist so he could lift the skirt of your dress, fingers tracing the words I love you along your thigh as Penny explained all her paintings in great, excessive detail.
  Later, when you were all at the table eating the breakfast you and Penny had made, Eddie could barely get a bite in without staring at you. Wayne was in your arms, face pressed against your breast as he nursed (always did it before he ate solids), while Penny babbled to you about how fun cooking with you had been and how yummy it was as you helped her scoop up her food on her little fork.
  Eddie knew Father’s Day was a day meant to celebrate him and essentially all the other fathers of the world, but he’d much rather appreciate you. You’d given him Penny and Wayne; his sweet (usually) little girl and his baby boy. Without you, he wouldn’t be able to be a part of this day, really.
  Eventually, you felt the weight of his stare and looked up at him, gaze inquisitive.
  “What?” 
  He just huffed out a gentle laugh, brown eyes warm and making a certain feeling stir in your belly, “Nothing. Thank you. For them.”
  Eddie nods towards Wayne and Penny.
  “Well, you definitely played a part in getting them here.” You mused, reaching a hand out to stroke over Penny’s curls. 
  Sure, you made them but it wouldn’t have been possible had Eddie not finished inside of you on a regular basis. 
  When you looked back at him, Eddie was smirking, his eyes were heavily lidded and darkening–his bedroom eyes. The warmth in them was simmering into something much more intense as he leered at you with absolutely no shame. Lustful.
  You could feel yourself heating up, bashful nature hitting you full force as he nearly ate you alive with his gaze alone. You knew what was coming next, what he was about to say.
  “Wanna make another one during nap time?”
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finalgowrl · 1 month
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go little rockstar 💫
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babybluebex · 7 months
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looking | joseph quinn x reader
summary: joe catches you looking and rewards (punishes?) you for your efforts pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: smut (MINORS DNI), squirting, oral (m! and f!receiving), mostly dom!joe but surprise sub!joe at the end, praise kink, no condom, creampie, cockwarming author's note: yes i have a lecture this morning. yes i am writing this at work. no i will not apologize. enjoy <3 // follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post a new story! (also big ole thanks to @freckledjoes for making this gif for me!! thanks a bunch!)
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You heard his feet on the landing of the stairs, and then gentle padding as his bare feet sounded on the carpeted hallway as he made his way to the bedroom. These nights were your favorite— Joseph had made you dinner, cheesy pasta with garlic bread, then you had watched an episode of Succession before getting ready for bed. You could tell that Joe was in a sort of mood that night, the kind of mood where he lit a candle at dinner and kissed you and put on Al Green on his record player. He had asked if you wanted to join him in the shower, but you had declined; you had work in the morning, and a randy shower didn't exactly entail an early sleep.
But then, he rounded the corner and darkened the doorway, and you gulped. He looked good; wet curls on his forehead, singlet covering his beefy build, and those underwear, clinging to every curve just right. And he didn't even seem like he knew what he was doing. Joe rubbed his hair dry on his towel as he came into the bedroom, and he went to his dresser, rooting through the top drawer for some pajama bottoms. The silence was deafening, and damning, because Joe turned to you with an amused look on his face.
"What's wrong, love?" he asked. "Cat got your tongue?" He added a dramatic pout to his plush lips, and, fuck, you just had to kiss him.
"You just look really good," you said softly. "Can't I just look at you?"
"Oh, you want to look?" Joe asked teasingly. Oh. So he was in that sort of mood. "I thought it was rude to stare."
"I'm not staring," you told him. "I'm... Appreciating. Admiring."
"Admiring, eh?" Joe laughed. "What exactly are you admiring?"
"Well..." you started, holding out your hand and tracing the shape of his body in the air. He was certified grade A beef that day, finally having regained the weight he had lost to play Eddie, and you loved his plush hips and thick thighs. "And..." You made a cupping motion with your hand, and Joe let out a sputtered laugh.
"So you're staring at my dick," Joe said, shaking his head mirthfully. "I knew I was nothing but a piece of meat to you."
"No!" you exclaimed. Even though you knew he was joking, you didn't want him to think you were doing that for even a second. "I'm just... You just... Y'know? Just admiring every part of you."
"You're drooling," Joe cajoled. He hung his towel on the back of the door and made his way to the bed, and you watched as he grew closer, finally until he was lingering right next to you, his cloth-covered dick inches from your face. God, he smelled so good, you just wanted to take him then and there.
You leaned forward and placed a kiss on his bulge, looking up at him through your eyelashes to see his reaction, and you were overjoyed to see him slowly close his eyes and take a deep breath. "You gonna suck it or what?" he asked in a low voice, and the hot pressure of need slammed inside you belly. You loved when he got like this.
You readjusted yourself in bed, sitting on your knees to reach him properly, and you tugged him forward by his hips to get him closer. Carefully, you pulled down those black briefs, and his half-hard cock spilled forward. He was thick and heavy, beautiful, and you chuckled lightly at the sight before you. "You trimmed," you giggled, and Joe peeked his eyes open.
"Is that a crime?" he asked, and you slid your hands up his thighs, lightly dragging your nails up.
"No," you said. "I just like your bush."
Joe shrugged. "I'll grow it back out," he said. His hand smoothed your hair back, gathering it all up in a loose grip before he flattened his palm against the back of your head, pulling you towards him. You put an end to your games then, taking the head of his uncut cock into your mouth, lightly sucking, just enough to give him a little bit of pressure. Joe made a quiet noise, a sort of hum of appreciation, and you took him further into your mouth. He tasted good, musky but clean, and you moaned around him as your tongue lavished the thick vein that ran along the bottom of his cock.
"That's it," Joe whispered. "What a good girl... You love sucking my cock, don't you?"
You fluttered your eyelashes at him as an answer and took him deeper, then pulled back and suckled at his head for a moment, just to get a reaction out of him. His hand gripped your hair as he moaned, and he gritted his teeth. "Fuck," he whispered. "I knew you liked what you saw."
You pulled off of him with a gasping breath, letting your hand stroke him from balls to tip. "Did you do it on purpose?" you asked.
"Do what?"
"Dress like this," you asked. "Look so goddamn delicious. You know I can hardly resist you."
"That was the plan," Joe admitted. His stomach flexed when you reached up to cup his balls, and you leaned back in, sucking him down again. You didn't usually like giving blowjobs— you hardly ever went down on past boyfriends— but there was something special about Joe that made you want to swallow down his cock every single day, no matter what. "God, you look so hot like this, darling. Love watching you like this."
You moaned softly, then broke away from him, panting to try to regain the breath that sucking him off has made you lose. Joe didn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you, holding your face as his tongue swirled in your mouth, tasting himself off of you. You scrambled backwards to lay on your back, and you tugged Joe in by his shirt, urging him to lay on top of you. He did exactly as you expected, following you and nudging your legs open as he messily kissed you, and he broke the kiss to look down at you. Panties and a t-shirt (his t-shirt), nothing else.
"Fuck," Joe whispered, and he chuckled. His eyes were stuck on your covered pussy, and he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue when he spotted the damp patch on your panties. "Is this all for me?"
"Yeah," you told him. "F'course it is."
"Jesus, I'm a spoiled man," Joe whispered, kissing you deeply again. His hands scrambled to tug down your panties and expose you to him, and his greedy eyes watched as you opened your legs for him, showing him your wet pussy. Your blood was thrumming in every vein with desire, you needed him so badly, and he flicked his eyes up to yours, those lips of his falling open gently. He kissed you once more, then leaned down to kiss your neck, nibbling softly at your skin before trailing his kisses downwards. Ever downwards he ventured, until his warm breath was fanning across your cunt, and he did not waste any time before he licked at you.
The stubble on his chin and cheeks roughed up your thighs as he ate you out like he had never learned how to do anything else. He sucked at your quivering clit and made you cry out in pleasure, his tongue danced on your hole, he even added his fingers to help open you up. By the time the knot in your belly was straining, he was sucking lewdly and shaking his head, making sure that you felt every inch of his fingers and tongue on you. It was so good, it felt so fucking amazing, and you let the knot snap and come undone. You grabbed hard at Joe's hair and almost cried as you came on his fingers; it just felt so fucking good.
"Jesus!" Joe laughed, and you panted as you looked down at him. Something wet was in his beard, and you laughed when you realized that it wasn't just your regular juices. "Good fucking girl, do that again, baby."
"I-I didn't even know I could do that," you laughed breathlessly, letting your head fall back. Joe wasted no time in pushing his fingers back into you, thrusting hard into you and making your toes curl with the sensitivity, and you yelped when the sudden knot burst again, and you were able to watch this time as you squirted quickly on Joe's face. He seemed to love it, smiling up at you and panting, and he pulled out his soaked fingers. He looked at them in awe, wet and glistening, before he touched them to his lips, licking them clean.
You leaned up and stripped off your shirt, and you reached out for him, pulling his hips between your legs again as you shoved his singlet over his head. You discarded it across the room before you kissed him again, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he didn't wait a single second before he grasped his cock and pushed inside you. You were so fucking sensitive from cumming so hard, and you grabbed hard at his shoulders as he instantly started up a pace. He was quick, thrusting messily into you and holding down your hips to keep you where he wanted you, and you hid yourself in his neck. Jesus, he was insatiable tonight; he had made you fucking squirt, and now he was fucking you so hard that you were worried you two might break the bed.
"Baby," you whispered in his ear. "Easy, honey, we have all night."
"I almost came when you squirted," Joe told you. "Fuck me, I'm so close already. Let me cum, and then we can go slower and nicer, but, right now, I need to— Fuck!"
His cock throbbed inside you as he fucked you, and you knew that he was right. He was dangerously close to his release, and you to yours, and you could have sworn that you heard him whimper when you clenched down on him, tightening around his cock.
"Please, baby," Joe whispered. "Let me cum inside you, please, fuck, I need it."
"Fuck, yeah," you breathed. "Cum inside me, please."
Joe's nails dug into the flesh of your hip, and you gasped as Joe moaned deeply, and he filled you. You could feel it inside you, so much thick cum— your poor boy really needed to cum. He moaned in your ear and panted heavily as he tried to catch his breath, and you pulled yourself from his neck to smile hazily up at him. "Was it good?" Joe asked, and you chuckled, brushing back his curls.
"Yes, my love," you told him. "So good. I didn't know I could squirt, that was interesting."
"A surprise, for sure," Joe laughed. "But it was hot. Can you do it again?"
"I don't know how I did it the first time," you chuckled. "I don't know if I can do it again."
Joe huffed out a laugh, and he leaned up on his elbows, rocking his hips into you again. Your nerves were so scorched and sensitive that you instantly let out a yelp, and Joe said, "Well, let's see."
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What I think Dating Eddie Munson would be like
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Reader
• okay so this is a lot so get ready for a shitload of fluff
• alright so first things first
• eddie would be the biggest simp for you
• like really
• boy would worship the earth you walked on
• even before you started dating
• before you guys were a couple he had the biggest crush on you for years
• his friends in hellfire couldn't hear it anymore
• "You know what happened today in english class?", he'd start as he sat down on their usual lunch table in the cafeteria
• "Y/N came an-"
• "and walked past you? looked at you? Eddie, don't you think it's maybe time to make a move or... you know, let it go? You're always talking about her, and it's not even anything special, it's getting ridiculous," one of them would interrupt him
• "If you would have let me finish then you would know that she came and asked me to study. Together. At her place. Tonight", he explained through gritted teeth, shooting him a death glare, but smiling proudly when he shifted his glance to the others on the table
• they'd be speechless tho
• just as he was when you had asked him
• fast forward 2 months and he finally asked you out
• and after that everything was going just perfect
• Eddie is the most caring boyfriend there is
• he'll always make sure you're happy
• he'll try his very best to cheer you up again when you're down
• he'd cuddle you and hold you and listen to you talk about ehat was bugging you
• but you'd also do anything for him when he was in a bad mood or sad
• you'd take him somewhere safe and quiet where no one would walk in on you, most of the times his bedroom in the trailer, and calm him down there
• you'd hold his face reassuringly and he'd lean into your touch, slightly turning his head so he could kiss the inside of your hand
• however, mornings with him were the best part
• his raspy morning voice was your favorite
• don't even get me started on the bedhair
• another thing: HANDS
• you'd always watch his hands, no matter what he was doing
• if he was playing the guitar
• scribbling something down
• rubbing your clit
• you just loved his hands : )
• you'd also constantly play with his rings
• you once tried them on, most of them way too big on your fingers but Eddie insisted you keep the one that fit
• "take it, babe. as a promise ring."
• ASDFGHJKL
• when you weren't around he'd also refer to you as the queen or Mrs. Munson
• "Hey, Eddie! You free this friday for another campaign?"
• "I don't know, dude, gotta ask the wife."
• He loved you and was certain that it was only you for him
• No one else could compare
• therefore he would also be protective as hell, especially after you went to the upside down
• he was happy you both made it out of that hellscape, he wouldn't ever risk again to lose you
• would be so jealous tho
• if he ever saw a guy of the basketball team try to flirt with you he'd immediately come to your side, hand at the small of your back, and with the widest grin tell the dude to kindly fuck off
• same was for you, you weren't really keen on Eddie having a deal with a girl from the cheer team
• it's not that you didn't trust your boyfriend, it's just, you never know with those cheerleaders
• you'd be the goofiest couple in school
• always doing something weird that would make everyone would stare at you
• once when Eddie saw you walking down the hallway he dropped all of his things to the floor only to run towards you and spin you around in a hug as if he hadn't seen you for months
• he had literally seen you 5 minutes ago
• he'd also often obnoxiously swing out your arms together when holding hands and walking down the hallway to your next class, making you stumble and bump against other students
• calling each other freak, nerd and weirdo for funsies was a usual for you
• hugs from behind
• all. the. time.
• you'd be standing at your locker, putting some of your stuff away when he would suddenly appear out of thin air and hug you tightly, pulling you away to twirl you around
• he's such a dork
• a lovesick dork
• when he was rehearsing with his band you'd join him, watching him play on his electric guitar, practised fingers strumming the strings in a way you've never seen before
• it was so hot
• you sometimes even forgot to breathe
• it took everything in you not to jump him right then and there
• he once tried teaching you how to play, you sitting on his lap as he put his hands on top of yours on the instrument
• his breath fanning against your neck
• god have mercy
• this went on for about 10 minutes until he got aware of the state you were in and started to kiss your neck
• let's just say that the guitar lesson was over very soon and you moved on to do something way more interesting instead : )
• sometimes you'd draw little doodles on his forearm when you were bored
• which made him come up with an idea
• so one day he showed up at your place, falling through your window and onto the carpet in your bedroom to show you the new tattoo he got
• it was one of your little drawings
• "wait, is this real??"
• "Yes, sweetheart, new and just healed"
• you couldn't believe him
• but the next day you got an appointment with your local tattoo artist and got matching tattoos together
• at nights you would sometimes go out for late night drives
• you know that one scene from perks of being a wallflower? it would somehow be like that
• the windows of his van all the way down, music blaring loudly through the speakers while you'd lean out of the window and feel the air hit your face, getting lost in the moment
• Eddie would watch you from the side as you did so, one arm stretching out to hold your knee so you didn't fall off
• he would be wheezing tho when you climbed back in with a disgusted expression on your face "I think I just swallowed a fly..."
• you'd watch him do his homework while laying on his bed sometimes
• "what is it?"
• "nothing. you're cute when you're concentrated."
• "don't mock me, Y/N"
• "I'm not! It's just, I don't see you like this often," you'd laugh, him groaning as a response before continuing what he was doing
• one time he was trying to cook dinner for you
• and almost burned the whole kitchen in the trailer
• now he just sticks to takeout when he wants to treat you :D
• therefore he'd also never bring lunch to school so you'd always pack him something extra just so he'd eat something instead of just chewing on some cashew nuts
• don't get me started on the hellfire shirt
• you love when he's wearing it
• it just looks so good on him
• and it'd also smell so much like him, so you'd always steal it from his closet
• but the boy goes feral everytime he sees you in his shirt
• something in him just stops working at the sight
• therefore you're never wearing it for more than about 15 minutes until it hits his bedroom floor
• whenever you both go out and leave his place together he always makes you sit down on the small steps in front of his trailer to tie your shoes, kissing your thigh while kneeling down in front of you before pulling you up and opening the door of his van for you
• such a gentleman
• however date nights aren't really date nights anymore because almost evertime one of the kids he's friends with is third wheeling you
• or all of them are
• you've practically become their parents now
• sometimes you're lucky tho and you get Steve and Robin to babysit instead
• but you love those little shitheads anyways ♡
• just like Eddie, they would be so excited everytime you joined one of their D&D campaigns
• Dustin and Mike would eagerly explain you the rules each time you got confused while Lucas would quietly give you tips for your next move
• Eddie would watch with a grin on his face while you were trying to follow each of them in between their rambling
• and now listen
• THE EYE CONTACT
• the game was just about to end and all the nerves were high up, you were the only one that could make the final move and all of the players were counting on you
• "What are you gonna do now, Queen Munson?", Eddie would speak from his dungeon master's throne, looking you in the eyes with a shit-eating grin, curious as to what your last move is gonna be
• You held the eye contact for a minute until you stood up and took the dice
• "I'm gonna hit him with a freaking fireball"
• then you threw the dice, it rolled acrossed the table until it stopped just right in front of Eddie, showing the number 20
• "SHE DID IT! SHE KILLED VECNA!", Dustin screamed, making all the other stand up and cheer as well
• You just looked at your boyfriend on the other side of the table, your look telling him everything he needed to know
• You both told the other's you'd stay behind and put everything away, so as soon as the last of them left the club room, both of you rushed to the other, teeth clashing in hasty kisses while undressing each other in a frenzy
• after that you'd go to his trailer, putting on some old vinyl of his uncle, and just swaying gently to the soft tune of the music
• you were in love and nothing else in the world could change that♡
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icallhimjoey · 2 months
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Define Close
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?
CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot
Author’s note: this sort of came about after taking small little bits from several requests that i combined and then shaped into what i wanted for myself, and for a minute, i thought 'what if i don't make this one extremely self-indulgent for once' but then... why the fuck wouldn't i? so...
Wordcount: 2.7K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
One of those days.
You weren’t going to wait until you got home to ask Joe what pizza toppings he wanted. Not today. So you texted,
“peperoni or chicken?”
And it took just a few seconds for Joe to open Whatsapp and to reply.
“those my only two options?”
You didn’t have the mental capacity to even think of any other pizza toppings, let alone get into some banter over text with your flatmate.
“joe”
There were a million ways for Joe to have read that, to have interpreted that. Yet, he got the tone of it just right.
“don’t worry, i’ll take care of it”
No playing. Just quick solutions to problems of which Joe didn’t even really know what they were yet. Then another text from him followed, asking you the question you’d just sent him.
“peperoni or chicken?”
“chicken”
You remembered exactly when this pizza tradition started. Could pinpoint the exact date, time, and place.
“no i was wrong.” “peperoni”
The first time you and Joe shared a pizza as new flatmates, was when you’d gotten home one morning, still very obviously in the outfit you’d left in the night before. Joe had been cooking up some breakfast in the kitchen and had his jokes ready, already grinning to himself when he hadn’t even seen you yet.
“Well, well, well,” he called over his shoulder as you took a moment by the front door to just... breathe. You would’ve tried gathering yourself, but there wasn’t much to gather.
“I know you said the plan was to go out and celebrate Friday, but you didn’t mention anything about Saturday morning,” you could hear the joy in Joe’s voice, all chipper and lively. He’d very clearly had a great night’s sleep, unlike you.
Joe heard footsteps, and when they stopped in the doorway, he turned his head to look. Spatula still in hand, eggs just about ready in the pan in front of him.
“Look at what the cat’s drag–...” the comment died on his tongue. “Jesus, are you all right?”
Joe had expected a tired, sloppy girl to have walked in. One with messy hair, eye make-up all smudged and sort of drunk a little, still.
He’d been right.
That was exactly what he was looking at, which should objectively be funny. Hence the smile that still lingered on his face as his brow slowly furrowed in confusion.
“You look like the inside of a shoe,”
Joe tried his hand at humour, but it fell completely flat.
What he hadn’t anticipated, was for his flatmate to look quite so sad in reaction to his comments. So very drained of life. You’d obviously been crying and looked like you hadn’t slept in weeks.
For a moment you just stood in that doorway, looked a little dazed because, um, why were you going into your shared living space again?
You needed your bed.
Without answering Joe, and without even really acknowledging him at all, you took a shuddering breath and slowly turned back around, only to ignore Joe’s question and disappear into the hallway.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Joe quickly turned the hob off and rounded the island to go after you. He was too late though, stepping into the hallway just as your bedroom door closed behind you. The immediate guilt that followed his poking-fun carried him over to stand in front of it, just enough self-restraint left to not just open your door and walk in right after you.
You didn’t seem like you needed to be pissed off any more than you already were.
From just outside of your bedroom door, you heard a very faint knock, followed by Joe’s voice, asking if you were all right once more.
“Did– did something happen? What’s going on?”
All you managed to do was sigh, just loud enough for Joe to catch it.
“What happened?”
But you didn’t want to get into it.
“Do you– hey,” Joe called your name, waited for a second, in case you wanted to answer him, but then when you didn’t, he followed it up with, “Do you want some breakfast?”
And honestly, breakfast sounded nice. But so did burying yourself into your duvet for a few days, where no one would try to look you in the eye, and where no one would try to make you talk. Were you going to listen to your rumbling stomach that wanted some food, or to the rest of your body that just wanted to be horizontal?
“Some scrambled eggs? Piece of toast?” 
You milled it over in your mind.
“Or, I could make you something else? You want some yoghurt? With some berries in?”
Joe tried. Was actively trying. But it didn’t seem to work, just didn’t seem to do the trick. It stayed silent on your side of the door.
“Some pizza?”
And it was meant as a careful joke. A hopeful small little thing to at least lift the mood, if nothing else. If you were even still listening to him at all, that was.
He was about to tell you that he’d be in the kitchen if you needed anything, that you could just let him know. No worries if not. But then he heard rustling. Stumbling footsteps, followed by your bedroom door slowly opening.
“Hey,” Joe cocked his head to the side at the sight of you, his eyes all soft, forehead crinkled with worry. “I’m sorry.”
You looked right past him.
“What... what kind of pizza?”
You focused on the important things instead. Didn’t really care to acknowledge Joe’s apology.
“Well,” Joe tried to hide his smile as he looked down at his feet before stepping aside and holding an arm out, inviting you to walk ahead of him, making your way back into the living area. “I think there’s a few to choose from in the freezer.”
You’d shared a pizza that morning, you sat at one of the stools of the kitchen island, and Joe stood on the side. He hadn’t asked you any questions then, but instead had just tried his hand at light conversation until suddenly, halfway through a slice, you’d started sobbing.
And it wasn’t like you and Joe had never hugged before.
But you’d never been hugged by him like that before.
Where Joe instantly dropped his food and stepped closer to fold arms around you. Where Joe got an arm around your head to press your face into his chest whilst the other curled down around your shoulders that pressed your chest into his stomach. Where he decided he wasn’t going to be the one to pull back first, and so you’d just embraced like that for over half an hour.
He hadn’t asked you any questions.
Not when you cried.
Not when you’d stuttered through breaths as you tried to recollect yourself after.
Not when you eventually pulled back and reached for another bite of now-cold pizza.
Not when you then silently frowned at the hardened cheese and softly sighed to yourself.
Not when you did eventually retreat back into your room but came out just a minute later and asked if Joe had any plans that day.
Even if he did have plans, Joe knew that he’d cancel them all for you.
“Want to rot on the sofa with me? Watch films all day?”
And you hadn’t meant to fall asleep all sagged into his side then, but you had. And Joe had played with the ends of your hair until the warmth and comfort had pulled him into a nap as well.
You’d never talked about what had happened then, why you had been so sad, because you didn’t need to. It was nice that Joe hadn’t asked for you to explain why you’d cried, and instead had just comforted you until you managed to smile for him again.
Joe thought that maybe, if you wanted to tell him, one day you would. But he didn’t need to know why his flatmate was sad when she was. He was happy just being there to help and fix it.
And now, here you were. Two flatmates who shared a tradition of having pizza and watching a film when you’d had a bad day.
And today had just been... long. Hard. Frustrating. You didn’t want to get into all the things that had nearly pushed you over the edge, and you were glad that you didn’t need to.
Joe didn’t ask questions. Never did.
Just went to get you the peperoni pizza you’d asked for.
Would cuddle you on the sofa all night if that was what you wanted.
It was what he wanted, anyway.
He was well aware that none of that was normal though.
You were flatmates.
If Joe referred to you in conversation with a friend, with a family member, or even with a stranger, you were his flatmate. The girl that he shared the living area of his flat with. The pantry, the fridge and the freezer. The coat closet by the door. A letterbox downstairs by the entrance.
Flatmates.
But if someone were to ask you if you and your flatmate were friends too, you’d tell them yes of course. You shared dinner more often than not. If you had friends ‘round, Joe would hang out too. And vice versa.
Normal.
Just normal friendly flatmates that also knew each other’s parents by their first names, but you know, those things sort of just came with sharing a living space together, right?
And no one ever really thought there was more to you and Joe, anyway.
Why would they even assume?
You dated other people. Went on regular dates with different men. Other guys. Would even sometimes sit and watch a film with someone, and Joe would join you for a little while. Have casual conversation with whoever you’d invited over.
Normal.
What wasn’t so normal was that the second it would just be you and Joe, you wouldn’t hesitate to touch if you wanted to touch. Wouldn’t hesitate to find him, wherever he’d be, and sling your arms around his stomach from behind, just to hold him for a minute. Would wait to get comfortable on the sofa until Joe would join you there and you’d wait for his arm to find its way around you before you’d settle in.
You never talked about it.
It was just what it was like. You were close. The affection was just a natural thing between the two of you. It didn’t need any words. Any explaining.
But Joe knew you both understood that this could be interpreted very differently through other people’s eyes.
It’s why you kept referring to each other as flatmates, and why you weren’t like that in front of other people.
Which was fine.
You lived together.
There was plenty of time without other people there.
When you walked into your flat that evening, the promise of a shared peperoni pizza combined with the contrasting warmth that immediately made you feel uncomfortably hot in your coat, was nearly enough to bring you to tears.
“Joe?”
“Hey, bad news,”
Oh no.
Joe appeared at the other end of the hallway.
“They didn’t have any Sprite left, so I got you a Fanta.”
You let your shoulders drop and let your head fall to the side in relief. That was hardly bad news. You didn’t love Fanta, but the bad news revealed Joe had gone out to get a pizza instead of throwing a frozen one into the oven.
“Fanta’s fine.” You smiled. Joe easily copied it.
“Good, okay. Now,” Joe continued, suddenly his face all serious again as you took your coat off and toed your shoes off. “I know that last time, I got to pick a film, so technically it is your turn... but, I’ve already chosen something to watch, and I did go out to get us the largest peperoni pizza London has to offer, so...”
You stilled and gave an exaggerated sigh, all mock frustration, because you honestly didn’t give a shit. If anything, it was nice that Joe had made the choice for you, seeing as you didn’t really have the mental capacity for any decisions right now. If it had been left up to you, you’d hav been scrolling through Netflix for at least half an hour until settling just to watch some celebrity panel shows on Channel 4.
“No sprite and I don’t get to choose the film?”
“I’m sorry,” Joe was trying stupidly hard to hide a smile.
You blinked at him a second.
“You’re not sorry.”
“No I’m not. You made me go out and it’s fucking freezing outside today.”
You made your way over to your bedroom to get changed, and just before disappearing, you said, “Cool way of letting me know you’ve not left the flat all day.”
Like Joe’s hair hadn’t told you as much already.
You wished your job would let you work from home too. Although, with Joe spending weird stretches of time just sitting around and reading, you didn’t think you’d get much work done. Would probably be a bit weird if you logged onto a zoom meeting from your spot on the sofa, half of Joe in frame.
“I did leave the flat! I just said!” Joe argued, leaving you to get into a more comfortable outfit.
You grinned to yourself.
Joe was an idiot.
In an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of joggers, you joined Joe in the living room where you found a large pizza box on the coffee table, two cans of Sprite next to it.
Sprite.
“Surprise.”
Joe had lied.
Then you looked at the TV screen, paused at the title of the film Joe’d chosen and, fuck all the way off, did he want you to cry?
“I know it’s not your genre...”
It was. It absolutely was. It wasn’t Joe’s genre, though. “But I promise you’ll like it.”
You didn’t know if you wanted to hook an elbow to his jaw or squeeze your nails into his cheeks, but you needed to do something to get this surge of emotion out.
You opted for swearing at him instead of physical violence.
“I fucking hate you so much right now,”
“Yea?” Joe sat down, pressing play on the remote and reaching for the throw blanket. “Come hate me over here.”
And so you did.
Sat down next to Joe, thigh to thigh, and let him sort the blanket so it covered the both of you before leaning over to grab the pizza box.
The heat coming from the pizza quickly found your legs through the blanket and through your joggers. It was a stark comparison to how cold your fingers still felt from your trek home.
You rubbed them together as Joe opened the pizza box and, shit, that looked good.
“You cold?”
“Just my fingers,” you replied, already putting both hands to use, ripping the pieces of crust that hadn’t been cut properly and lifting a slice out of the box.
Joe did the same, and then when he saw one of your hands lower down, he was quick to grab it, encasing your cold fingers into his large palm.
The act of being upset with him for being nice faltered, and you smiled at Joe as he smugly grinned whilst he chewed.
See, had someone else been there with you, you’d have gotten comments. If not jokes, at least you knew you would’ve gotten some judging looks. Some questions later, about what was going on between the two of you?
Nothing was going on between the two of you.
Just warm cuddles and comforting touches, which was fine when it was just you and Joe.
So what if Joe held your hand whilst you ate pizza and watched a romantic comedy together?
So what if a piece of peperoni was about to slide and fall to your chest, but Joe saw and got it just in time, and you thought he was going to pop it into his own mouth, but then instead he held it up in front of you and waited till you ate it from his fingers?
So what if, after finishing the pizza, Joe planted his feet on the coffee table and pulled you into his side a little? Grabbed your arm to lay over his stomach? Ended up with both arms slung around, his own fingers locking on your back to keep you in place whilst you watched actors older than the both of you act as if they were in their early twenties still?
Life was just more comfortable when it was filled with good snuggles, you and Joe both agreed.
But you never talked about it.
You were just close.
No questions asked.
Flatmates. Friends. Just, close.
---
The Taglisted
@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo
taglist currently full, sorry
373 notes · View notes
ceriseheaven · 1 year
Note
Eddie/Joseph teaches his virgin lil gf to take his ✨HUGE THICK COCK✨ like really inch by inch with tons of praise for her. Starting with her barely being able to welcome 2 fingers of his but wanting it so bad and getting upset because her body doesn’t cooperate 🥺 pretty please, love you writing so much queen, especially size kink 🥹
i've been waiting for this one, turn it up!
warnings: fem!reader, soft dom!joe, size kink, reader is described as "tiny, little, small" etc. but no description of body type, loss of reader's virginity, crying, so.much.praise, joe having possessive thoughts (in a hot way iykyk) & smut; fingering, cuddlefucking then missionary. (just incase the positions seem confusing lmao) NOT PROOFREAD so pls ignore any mistakes.
~
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"baby just relax for me.. take a deep breath yeah? if you want my cock you've got to at least take another finger, think you can do that for me?"
forcing your eyes open, you're met with the concerned face of your boyfriend of ten months. his honeyed eyes are dripping with desire, the warm brown in them have turned into a thin line circling the blackness of his lustful need. he's begging you but he's not asking and all you want to do is give into what he wants.
"yeah i want to i just.. i don't know if i can.." you tell him honestly and mean it. during the ten months span of your relationship, you've done plenty of sexual things but none of them included him putting more than one finger inside you.
~
joe was the most giving partner you've ever had, it also helps that he was your first and only. he buried his head between your thighs whenever he could, said your pussy was his air and he needs it to breathe. he'd pleasure you for hours with his skillful tongue and experienced lips, sucking, licking, suckling and biting. he wouldn't stop until he had made you into a mess of a girl, blabbering nonsense and unable to move by yourself.
one time after he made you cum three times, he asked if he could fuck you with his fingers and all you were able to do was stare at them, that was the first time you noticed how thick they were. sure, his hands were big. you knew that because you felt it each time he'd put his hand behind your back to lead you to walk in front of him. you saw it when he grabbed your wrist and held your palm up then put his against it, comparing how big it is next to yours. you felt it when you held hands and his would completely cover yours but being so focused on how big his hand is, you failed to notice his fingers.
the wheels in your head were haywire that night as you grabbed his wrist and examined his fingers. looking back and forth between them and yours, mentally comparing how they'd feel and how much they're stretch you. "we don't have to do it if you don't want to yeah?" he reassured you but you told him you did want it, but also need him to go easy on you.
he was barely able to get his middle finger in and while you were on the verge of tears about how your body is betraying you, he was on the verge of making a mess in his pants. his pupils completely blown out as he's staring at the way you're too small and tight to take just one of his fingers. all he could think about is how it would feel if that was his cock instead, you'd be split open if it was, he thought and the visual alone got him hard and got him off with a little help from his hand later on.
you've seen his dick before, many times but it never stopped knocking you off guard. you always assumed it would be big judging by his attitude and the way he carried himself alone but actually seeing it and confirming what you thought to be true was something else. he wasn't just big in length, he was thick, cut and veiny. he was bigger than the guys you've seen on porn and you couldn't help but be anxious about that.
"hey.. you're okay?" he asked you with a little frown on his face, taking you out of your trance and you nodded hurriedly.
"yeah i just wasn't.. expecting that. i mean i was but.. i.. yeah.. it's just.. what the fuck joseph. where have you been hiding that?" you joked and he chuckled, getting a little bashful as he shook his head at you.
"give me your hand." he said, reaching for your head and grabbing your wrist, he brought it up to his lips to plant a soft kiss inside your palm before he dragged it down his body and wrapped your hand around his cock, your fingers didn't fully wrap around his shaft making your eyes widen and his darken. "fuck.. baby.." he whined lowly before moving the hand that's covering yours up and down, yours moving along with it, you can feel him getting harder in your hand. "i'm gonna remove my hand.. you keep doing that yeah?" he asked in a hushed tone before pulling his hand away, his eyes never left though. they were glued at the way you were jacking him off, the sight of your small hand around him engrossing him completely. he barely lasted ten minutes before he made a mess on your fist then got hard again when he watched you lick it off your hand just because you were curious about the taste.
he was obsessed with you, obsessed with your body and how it felt against him. obsessed with how he could just lift you up and have his way with you. obsessed with how he was the first and the only one to get to have you like this.
he's had plenty of sex before but he's never been someone's first. at first, he didn't think it would matter much but the more things you did with him, the more he started getting feelings of possessiveness. each time you'd kiss him, he thought about how nobody's gonna kiss you like that again. each time you stripped your body naked for him, he thought about nobody has ever seen it, nobody but him. nobody's hands have ever been on you, you were utterly his. he's the first man who has ever touched you and he'll be damned if he won't be the last.
~
"you can do it if you just relax a bit yeah? i know how to do it.. let me take care of you" he whispers the last part, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours, his tongue pushes into your mouth and starts playing with yours as his thumb plays with your clit, distracting you from the way the tip of his index finger is tracing along your silt near his middle one, slowly, in and out.
his finger slips inside you and you could swear you saw stars. arching your back slightly off the mattress but he pushing your hips down with his other hand. "hey hey.. breathe for me kitten come on.." he curls his two fingers inside you, he should be stretching you out but you only feel tighter around him.
trying your best to relax as he told you, you take deep breathes and attempt to let go of the tension that has taken over your body, "good girl, you're doing so good baby.. just focus on me" he says and leans down to your neck, planting soft kisses all over it until he reached your sweet spot and begun sucking on it right after he licked it.
your moans fill the room and it only entices him more, he thrusts his fingers deeper inside you, already hitting that spot that turns your body into mush. your hands reach down and grab his wrist, stopping his movements and nodding no frantically until he pulls away enough to stare at you, "what is it baby? did that not feel good?"
tears brimming in your eyes, you stare him in desperation. angry about how your body is betraying you, stopping you from getting what you need, what it needs.
"i can't. i'm sorry joe but i can't, it's too much. i want you but i can't" the tears you've been trying to hold back spill from your eyes and down your cheeks. if you were with anybody else, you'd be embarrassed, ashamed even. crying because you can't handle two fingers inside you but you weren't with anybody else. you were with joe.
he pulls his fingers out of you the second the first 'can't' left your lips. leaving you to clench around nothing. despite how little he was able to stretch you, the absence of him made you feel emptier than usual. he quickly laid down beside you, wrapping both his arms around you, engulfing you completely with his entire body. one hand behind your head, tucking your face into his neck, letting you soak his skin with your tears as his other hand is rubbing up and down your back.
"shh it's okay darling, you've got nothing to be sorry about. we don't have to keep going, we can just lay here." he's warm. he's always warm but the warmth radiating from him isn't just from his body heat. "you've done so good kitten, so so good. god i'm proud of you, my love" he says before kissing your neck, right on the spot he just marked minutes ago.
the ache between your thighs is getting worse by the second, throbbing and tugging at your nerves. it almost hurts. you know that you can tell him and he'd happily fuck you with his tongue until that ache is gone, replaced by a blissful haze but you know that it's not what you need.
you need him. you need to be closer to him. you need to feel him and need him to feel you. you need his cock to fill you up as much as he needs to.
"no i wanna keep going.." you tell him between sobs, pulling away enough to wipe your tears but he beats you to it. his hand is gentle on your face, "i want you to fuck me. i want to do it. tonight. now"
"but babe.."
"joe please." you tell him desperately, practically begging him with your wet eyes and pouty lips. "please baby i want you.. i want to feel you, please joseph.. i wanna be yours, i'll beg if you want me to" you whisper the last sentences, knowing what saying his name like that does to him.
you know he can't resist you, not when you stare at him like that and say these things, things he want more than anything. to feel you, to fuck you, to claim you, to make you his, to love you. your words go straight to his cock, hardening more and more with every word that slips out of your pouty lips.
he leans forward and takes them in a kiss, tender and sweet as his hand travels down the side of your thigh until it reached your knee, pulling you closer and wrapping it around his torso so your wet core is facing his, "no need to beg kitten, i'll always give you what you want. no begging here." he whispers against your lips, his hand only leaving your thigh to grab his shaft.
"gonna rub it against you for a little bit yeah? like we did last time, just a little rub.." he places the head of his cock right on your clit and your hips involuntarily move away from him but he grabs them. "need you to stay put for me baby, keep your little hips close to me hmm?"
nodding at him, your hands find his shoulders and biceps, gripping them hard enough to leave crescent shaped marks on his skin. "feel this doll?" he asks as he rubs the head of his cock all the way from your clit and down to your cunt, coating it with your slick and going up again, making a mess with your arousal and getting harder with each time he brings it up and down, "feels good doesn't it?"
"it does.. feels so good.." you whine against his jaw, feeling his warm precum leaking out of his tip and mixing with your juices on your entrance, he rubs it there, making you more wet than you already are, prepping you further.
"can i put the tip in? just a little bit? give you a feel?" he asks, kissing along your neck, the hand that was on your head pulling your hair back so he can look into your eyes.
tears continue to spill out, wetting your face but it's no longer unhappy tears. now they're just needy ones, so needy he can't help but chuckle then kiss your forehead as you nod at him, "yeah please, i'm ready"
"alright doll.. keep breathing yeah? it's gonna feel good i promise.." his lips find yours once again but he doesn't kiss you this time. just letting them linger against yours, letting you breathe in his air. the tip of his cock brush against your slit one last time before he pushes the girthy head in.
less than one inch and you're gasping for air but this time he doesn't pull it out, instead he talks to you a little sternly, "hey hey. breathe. it's okay, you can take it. be a good girl and breathe for me." the sudden dominance in his tone takes you by surprise but spurs butterflies in your belly, butterflies that travel down into your core and make you feel scatterbrained.
he notices that your breathing became more regulated when he spoke to you like that and it clicked for him. biting his lip to hide his smirk, his big hand gripped your hip closer, pushing more of his cock inside you until his whole pink mushroom head is settled in your cunt, "god.. i'm gonna fucking destroy you, you know that right? just the tip and you're already crying.. what're you gonna do when i'm all up in your tummy hmm?"
between his words and the stretch, your body twists against his until your head is no longer nuzzled in his neck but now laying against his chest, the coolness of his chain contrasts with the warmth of his skin and it makes you feel more fuzzy until you're whimpering out, "more.. more please joseph.."
unaware of where his sudden boldness has came from but glad that it did, his hand finds your throat, tracing it until it reaches your jaw, lifting it so you're staring up at him, "i'll give you all you want baby but you've gotta be patient. good girls wait." he says before slowly pulling the tip out almost completely then thrusting it back in making you scream out but it's muffled against the flesh of his chest.
he moans at the sensitivity then he does it again, sliding his tip in and out of you until you're cock drunk and stretched out enough for him to be able to do it almost effortlessly despite it still being a struggle, "you feel so good kitten.. gonna fill you up more but first i need to fix our position yeah?"
your nails have scratched out his biceps enough to leave red marks in their wake, you nod at his question and feel his hands on your waist as grabs it and lifts you up a bit so you're at face level with him again then he turns you so you're laying on your back and he's hovering over you.
his arms caging you from both sides, his body is heavy on yours but the weight is welcomed and wanted. he stares down at you, looking at how small you look beneath him, helpless and completely left to his mercy. he could cum at this sight alone but he'd never put his pleasure before yours, he's a real gentleman.
"look at me darling.. want your eyes on mine.." he kisses your nose, "gonna be gentle with you, it's gonna feel good.." he says before thrusting another inch of his cock inside you. the stretch this time is nearly unbearable but you remember the stern tone he used earlier and try to regulate your breathing, taking deep ones in and slow ones out, relaxing your muscles as much as you can.
he can feel you trying your best and he smiles down at you, "you're so fucking good for me fuck.. can i move a little?" he asks and once he's granted your permission, he pulls out and begins thrusting his cock in and out of you, giving you more and more with each thrust. slowly opening you up, splitting you open as tenderly as he can, holding back from how badly he wants to tie you up to the headboard and pound then breed your pussy. he can't do that yet, he's a real gentleman after all.
the more he's giving you, the harder it's becoming to stay still. you body wants to reject it but you want it so bad that the tears find their way back to your eyes, tears of pleasure and desperate need.
wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer until your bare chest is touching his, he's warm. the same warmth you always feel when you're close to him. the warmth of intimacy, the warmth of love and craving.
he senses you struggling when he feels the way your body shivers and how you're squeezing him, staring deep into your eyes, "you're with me, my love.. you're with me. you're okay, you're safe." love is seeping out of his eyes, dripping down at you as he begins to pick up the pace of his movements a little bit, going deeper, hitting your g-spot with each thrust, "say my name baby, tell me who you belong to."
the possessiveness in his voice has the same effect as the sudden dominance, he's got you right where he wants you and right where you wanted to be. completely submitting your body and mind to him, "you.. i belong to you." you tell him between moans, it hurts. it hurts but the pain feels so good. it's not the pain of being hurt, it's the pain of being in so much pleasure that your head can't comprehend it. "i belong to you, joseph"
he noise he made when he heard you was borderline animalistic but you can't blame him, he's been waiting for this as long as you have if not longer.
his hand reaches up and takes one of yours by the wrist then he brings it down to your tummy, pressing your palm flat down on your lower abdomen where the outline of his cock is visible to be seen and felt. "can you feel me now kitten?" he asks then presses your hand down by putting his over it, making your eyes roll back. "how about now? can you feel me?"
"fuck yes! yes i can feel you"
"tell me how it feels." he demands as he rocks his hips against yours, no longer giving you more of his cock even though he's not buried all the way inside you. he decided you've had enough for tonight, it's only your first time after all and he promised to be gentle.
"feels so good joey.. so good, so full"
"yeah? wanna know how you feel?" his hand leaves yours and reaches down to play with your clit, edging you closer to your release. "you feel so fucking tight.. your little cunt's made for me." his lips crash against yours even though both of you are two out of it to kiss, "mine. you're mine." rutting in and out of you a couple more times, he feels you clenching around him more than before, signaling that you're close to reaching your climax.
"your tiny body's mine.. this.." he spits out as he circles your clit with his thumb, "this pretty thing is mine.. your fucking cunt.." his words get caught up in his throat as his balls tighten, it's getting harder for him to hold back but he wouldn't dare finish before you do. "your fucking cunt's mine, yeah kitten?" he asks rhetorically but you nod anyway, whining out multiple yes's to please him the way he's pleasing you.
"good girl.. now i want you to cum for me, soak my cock baby. i know you're there."
you're unsure of what magic he worked on you. whether it was magic of knowing exactly when you're gonna cum or magic of knowing how to get you to cum whenever he wants because the second he said it, your body went limp as your vision went white. no more thoughts in your head just static noise but instead of an annoying buzzing sound, you hear him, repeating the same thing over and over again like a prayer.
"i love you i love you i love you i love you fucking hell i love you" he's ready to submit to you the way you did to him as he cums inside you, ropes of his heavy load fills you up, reaching the spots his cock didn't. it's warm, warm like him.
the feeling of being so full takes over your hazy mind. so full of his cock, so full of his seed, so full of his body laying above yours as he's resting, so full of him. you begin to question how you ever felt complete before now that you've felt this full, on every level, physical and not. you can't imagine what it's like to be separated from him again. the thought of being empty could nearly kill you.
after a few seconds of the both of you catching your breathes, he pulls away enough to look at you, the fucked out smile on your lips matches his and so does his glossy eyes, "you're okay doll?"
"never better."
~
tags: @thegemaqua @hazzaismyreligion @harrys-four-nipples @goldenbrownanddistasteful @chickensinrainboots @harringtonfan4 @zupajespren @musicmoviestv @ireneeee00 @phyllosilicate-s @josephfakingquinn @ghalavane @wren-2-d @p3nope @ggujkie @marveltramp @alyssaaaaa-r @siouxiesiouxtryhard @choke-me-joey @hellfiremunsonn @bug-boy32 @elain00 @ali-r3n @quinnsbower @sw34terw34ther @wickedwitchofwest @xiung @rosepresley @munsonsfairygarden @hbaramas @lifealwayslearning @zestychili @luvrsbian @eddiebaemunson @crankybean14 @bbjidk69 @bailey11882 @munson-enthusiast @cinnamoncunt @birdysaturne @spacedoutdaydreamer
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ramona-thorns · 2 years
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idk if I did it right but here we go
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lovely--lover · 2 years
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SMUT * Kind of perv Eddie jerking off while snuggling oblivious readers tits *
The only light in the trailer came from the small television playing The Exorcist after Eddies insistence.
Notorious for being the scariest movie ever made Eddie knew it would be perfect to scare you into his arms. Allowing him an excuse to hold you. The way imagines at night while clutching an old pillow.
Although Eddie didn't take into account that he was a scaredy-cat. As the film was playing he found himself averting his gaze from the screen. Attempting to avoid a startling scene.
It was unavoidable and out of nowhere he squealed hiding his face into you. A gentle touch met the fluffy curls as you caressed his head pressing it further into your.....chest.
Eddie suddenly realized his face was right between your breast. Soft and warm caressing each side of his face. This wasn't his plan this was better.
When a loud sound echoed from the tv he used it as an excuse to jump further into your chest. Earning your comfort "Aw Eddie..if it's too scary we can turn it off?"
He took the opportunity to shake his head no. Snuggling his face deeper into your breast making his cock harden. You were oblivious to his true intentions.
"Okay" you cooed "We can still watch...I'll protect you." The laugh you gave making your tits to jiggle against his face. Teeth sinking into his lip to contain a moan.
Eddie slipped a hand down between his legs feeling up the hard-on shivering at the touch but freezing when you looked down at him.
"Eddie? Do you want me to put the blanket on you?"
He couldn't believe it! He gave another (fake) shiver while hiding his smirk in your chest "Could you please"
An audible moan left his lips as you leaned forward to grab the blanket. Eddies face was fully between your tits. Warmth taking over his cheeks and his body as the blanket draped over him.
The blanket concealed everything giving him the confidence to lower the zipper of his jeans. Reaching into the confines to grip his cock, pulling it free.
The tip was already leaking he spread it down his cock making the jerk smooth. Slowly moving his wrist up and down to not draw attention.
He used a tight grip jerking down and up giving extra attention to the tip. Running the back of his ring against the heated flesh before back down.
Nuzzling his face deeper he imagine his cock was sliding between your tits instead his hand.
How your hand would press the soft pliant flesh around him. Eddie would use his spit to glide through them causing them to bounce with each thrust.
Would you stick out that cute tongue and lick his tip as he fucked your tits capturing his cum in your mouth? Or would you beg him to cum on your tits and spread the sticky substance around so they glistened?
Eddie was close he could feel it. The tightening in his stomach the moans on the tip of his tongue. A few more jerks and he would be there but all his motions stopped "The movies over Eddie. It's okay now."
Eddie was fucked, not literally, and would never be by you if he was caught. Laying still he made no movements keeping his eyes shut.
Peering down you pushed away the stray hairs covering his face revealing his slumbering face "You're cute when you sleep Munson!"
Eddie had to keep from smiling. He had never had any luck in life but it was all appearing in this moment. As he was about to continue his pleasure you leaned down.
"I hope you dream of me Eddie" placing a delicate kiss to his forehead. The touch was so gentle. Your lips soft and warm. The tender touch made Eddie shiver and cum into his hand.
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harmfulb1tch · 3 months
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The Sleep Over
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Part 2
Summary: things get revealed at a sleep over with Eddie
Ship: Eddie Munson x Henderson! Reader
Warnings: fluff
A/N: I’m thinking of writing tomorrow a smutty second part for this, what do y’all think?
Your little brother Dustin wanted to host a sleepover d&d party for him and his friends while your mom was out on a business trip. You hated this idea because you would have to take care of three children, but you couldn’t say no to his idea because he had to put up with the “girls night” you hosted with Nancy and Robin. That is until you learned that it wasn’t just going to be Mike and Lucas, it was the entirety of the Hellfire Club. You had a huge crush on the Dungeon Master of the club. Your friends always teased you about liking the “freak”, not because you liked the school’s “freak” but because you two were too good for each other. You didn’t remember when that crush for Eddie Munson had started, it’s as if you have always liked him.
Right now, you were preparing everything for your brother’s sleepover while he prepared your basement for the d&d game. You were placing crisps in their corresponding bowls when the doorbell rang.
“Helloooo Y/N, you look nice today” said Lucas when you opened the door, leaning on the doorframe.
“I still haven’t forgot about last time Sinclair. I’m still pissed at you for breaking my AC/DC vinyl.” You said, flicking his forehead. Mike and Lucas the proceeded to come into the house.
“Hey Y/N!” Gareth was next to greet you, followed by Jeff and Doug.
“Hey guys come in!” You greeted them.
“Hey Y/N, how are you?” You eyes started to twinkle at the sound of the boys voice. Eddie said leaning on the doorframe like Lucas but towering over you. You blushed at this.
“H-hey Eddie” you said looking down and smiling like an idiot, very unlike you.
“So, you’re not gonna join us in the campaign, sweetheart?”
“Um, no I don’t think so. I don’t want to interfere with my brother’s sleepover. I don’t think he would like that” you said.
“Oh come on… Hey Dustin, do you mind if your sister joins us?”
“What?! You want to join?! Please join us!” Your brother shouted from the kitchen.
“Ok then! I’ll join” everyone cheered at that.
The campaign started off pretty nicely until Gareth rolled a nat 1 and received a critical hit from an orc. You tried to protect Gareth but got hit yourself, that is until you rolled a nat 20 killing two orcs at the same time with only one arrow.
“Good job, sweetheart” Eddie purred with a wink, making you blush. Your brother looking at the two of you weirdly.
When the game finished, you all cheered when you won the final battle. You all even congratulated Eddie on the amazing campaign. You then all order pizza and ate it on the basement. After that, you set sleeping bags on the floor all scattered around to simulate a camping site. Once everything was set, you all went to sleep.
While everyone was asleep, you couldn’t help but think about Eddie. He was always so nice to you and you always felt like he flirted with you, but you couldn’t shake the thought that he treated every girl the same way. You tossed and turn on your sleeping bag.
“Hey sweetheart, you awake?” You heard Eddie whisper. You knew he was referring to you because of the use of his nickname for you.
“Yes, I can’t sleep Eddie” you said, turning to face him.
“Come here then princess” he whispered, making you blush with the use of the new nickname. Thank god everything was dark enough that he didn’t see. You went up to him and laid by his side, outside his sleeping bag
“don’t be silly, come inside” he said opening up the sleeping bag. You obliged. Once you were settled, Eddie held your face by the chin softly for you to look up at him “what’s got this pretty mind of yours so worked up hm?l
“I-it’s nothing really. Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid” you said flushed for getting caught.
“Come on sweetheart you can tell me” his warm smile edging you to say something.
“It’s just that I like someone, but I don’t know if they like me back you know?” You said, watching Eddies smile falter.
“Yeah, I get it. It’s not stupid at all. Who’s the lucky gentleman huh? Do I know him?” You felt his mood shift from playful to sad.
“Oh yeah, you know him. He’s super nice and funny, he always treats me so well too. The thing is, I don’t know if he is flirting with me or if he just treats me like everybody else you know?” Again, you saw his gaze grow sad at your words
“Well, whoever he is, he’s a very lucky guy. Anybody would be lucky to have you Y/N” he pulled away from you and laid on his back, looking at the ceiling. You
You knew what was going on. He thought you liked someone else and not him. In a moment of braveness you propped yourself up, put your hand on his chest and kissed him deeply. After the initial shock, he kissed you back and placed a hand on your waist. He then moved to his side again and placed his hand where it was before, under your chin, deepening the kiss.
“Hey” he said pulling away, making you laugh.
“You’re an idiot Eddie Munson” you said laughing.
“Oh but you love me”
“That I do, yes”
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musedblues · 1 month
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FOREVER AND FOR REAL
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(photo edits by @pitifulbaby_ on insta)
a/n: daisy jones eat your fucking heart out. i present yet another rockstar!eddie fic. this one features fem rockstar!reader, a fake marrige, a lot of reckless behavior and lovely little ending.
warnings: descriptions of sex, drugs, rock and roll, themes abt alcoholism/addiction, mentions of abusive ex partners, god-awful rom com tropes, fantastical bullshit. sorry not sorry for this yall know i love a good fake marriage 
30k
MINORS DNI
/// New York 1988 -
"So, how did it start with you and Eddie?" The woman from the Rolling Stone smiled as she quizzed you. Her voice was low, her demeanor was patient.
"He asked for my autograph." You revealed with a laugh.
///
Sunset Strip 1986 -
The rooftop party was in full swing. Your labels oldest and most endeared studio musician had announced his retirement and everyone who was anyone showed up to his celebratory send off.
Ozzy was stumbling from guest to guest. Prince was casting smug grins from his poolside perch. You were being reprimanded by you manager in the middle of the shindig.
"Go wish Terry a happy retirement and maybe go catch up with some other studio musicians while you're at it. You can't let your last guitarists new rumors ruin your reputation. We'll need to hire some of these people to record your next album, you know?" Kelsey snarled, his cigarette-stained smile repulsing you. He was a hard ass. That made him a damn successful manager. And a shitty fucking person.
You grumbled and spun to do what he said, trying to stay in favor with the musicians who worked under your label was a must. If only you would have known falling in love with your last guitarist would result in the messiest breakup of all time. If only he hadn't spread such vial rumors about you to his fellow studio musicians and the press.
But they were just rumors. And you had proven yourself to be one of the music's scenes most prominent figures in the past few years. You wouldn't let this hiccup be the one to topple over everything you worked so hard to achieve.
On your mission to save your name, you stopped by the rooftop bar. There were a cast of patrons who parted to let you ahead in line. That was a good sign. You still held an absurd amount of social import. After asking the man behind the counter for a vodka soda, a commotion turned everyone's gaze.
Out of thin air, was the illustrious Eddie Munson. In a flash he jumped behind the mini bar and proceeded to pour the drink you asked for. He was hammered, the drunkest of any attendee. He was smiling at you as you accepted the vodka... and then he introduced himself.
"I of course know who you are." Eddie smiled, ignoring the bartender who was frustratedly insisting the guitarist get out from behind the workspace. Eddie was leaned against the counter, watching you laugh and roll your eyes. Of course, he knew you. And of course, you knew him. He was the newest name attached to your shared label, but perhaps the most famous.
In the one year that Eddies band Corroded Coffin had appeared on the scene, their music and personage had taken over rock and roll. Their tours were selling out, their greenrooms were stuffed with groupies, their producers were booking studios so far out in advance your next session had to be postponed.
"I've known who you are since your first single became the soundtrack of the summer of '84. I've had your posters on my walls. Would it be impossibly tacky of me to ask for your autograph?" Eddie slurred, but past his inebriation lied a sparkle in his eye that you read as genuine.
"Our generations most admired guitar virtuoso is asking for my signature?" You snorted. "I should be asking for yours. Could sell it for millions." You grinned back, watching Eddie's wide smile faulter as the bartender had started swatting his shoulders, demanding he leave.
"Okay, okay. I'll go." The rockstar turned and submitted with a sigh, and a paused smirk. "But only after one more shot." Eddie spun to grab a bottle of whiskey, lifting the nozzle to hold over his opened mouth, draining more than a shot worth as the small crowd of party goers cheered him on. The bartender cursed Eddie, snatched the bottle back, and announced he was calling security. Eddie had heard enough, hoping over the bar, his boots shinning across your field of vision as he whizzed past you, landing stealthily, and grabbing your wrist on his sudden escape.
"That way!" You chuckled, just buzzed enough to let yourself enjoy the change of pace. Eddie darted in your demanded direction and found a pair of elevators around the rooftops pool, busied by party goers.
As the pair of you lunged into the lift, you reached for the buttons to shut the doors fast as possible. They slid together in slow motion as your fingers fumbled over the buttons, pressing a couple different floors by mistake as the ride descended. Eddie's laughter rang in your ear as he drunkenly bobbed to find footing. But soon as the pair of you were being lowered to freedom, your ride creaked eerily to a halt. The doors did not open. The ride did not move.
"Oh no." You called, racing to press more buttons but worrying that your initial doing so was what had stopped the ride. But surely the button meant to press for an emergency was safe, right?
"We stopped?" Eddie realized, his lithe grin faltering, sobriety bubbling into his gaze.
"Shit, I'm so sorry." You turned to face the rockstar, who was just realizing the gravity of your situation. Just then a crackly voice rang through the rides system, informing the pair of you that your alert was received and asking what had happened. A nice enough woman assured help was on the way and insisted the pair of you stay calm. You started to apologize to Eddie once more when he waved to dismiss you.
"No, it's my fault for dragging you away with me. I'm kind of a pro at causing so much trouble."
"There are worse rockers to be trapped in an elevator with." You chuckled, leaning back against one of the walls railings.
"Took the words outta my mouth... I do want your autograph. Heartbeaten was the only album I played the winter it came out."
"You're a very dangerous flirt, you know that?" You warned, looking the guitarist up and down. It was beyond flattering to hear your music complimented by a musician you admired all the same. It didn't hurt how easy it was to look at Eddie, either. Leather clad, hair a mess, eyes glazed over by the night's events. You'd forgotten for a moment that you were trapped.
"Is it getting hot in here? I'd say it's cause of you but I don't really like this..." Eddie tried to play off his worry but you watched his chest rise and fall and remembered you were trapped and suddenly everything became more realistically grim. You pressed the emergency button once more and the kind woman insisted the fire department was on their way up now.
"Just a couple more minutes." You nodded toward Eddie. "We'll be out of here before you know it."
"Thank God." Eddie noted. "But I might just miss you, ya know?"
All of a sudden it hit you. Everything you'd been through in the past year played like a montage through your mind, leading up to this moment. You realized you hadn't been trapped so much as given a golden opportunity to ask a very important question to what seemed like the exact right person.
"Eddie..."
"Yeah?"
"I'll sign my album for you if you do something for me?"
Just then a loud scraping against the metal entrance broke your collective focus on each other. A group of firemen pushed open the elevator doors by aid of some tools, informed the pair of you had been stuck on the 17th floor, and escorted you down the stairwell asking a few questions about how everything had gone down.
When you and Eddie reached the lobby, a woman you'd recognized from the label's office came hurrying toward the pair of you. She had to be Eddie's manager.
"I think it's time we go." The woman offered you a polite smile before turning a stern gaze to Eddie. "You've already pissed off three of the four bartenders here tonight. And I'm sure you've overstayed your welcome in her presence, Munson." She eye'd you.
"Actually, he was just agreeing to meet me in my studio over the weekend." You blurted. Eddie was the best player on the scene. He was your best and maybe only hope. Eddie beamed at you, realizing that this was your barter for giving your autograph to the rockstar.
"I'd love to work together." You spoke quickly enough to result in a blush of embarrassment. You were usually good at keeping your cool. But something about Eddie made you giddy and terrified and everything else all at once. You watched as Eddie's manager nodded in contemplation.
"I know Kelsey. I'll give him a call to set up the times." She dropped your managers name and yanked Eddie away in a hurry. The rocker didn't go without flashing you a smile and a wave before stumbling off through the lobby. After that, nothing was keeping you at the party any longer, either.
///
Century City L.A. 1986 -
When Eddie breezed into your recording booth the next weekend, he was refreshingly sober; and made sure you knew how grateful he was for the invitation. He slung his guitar around his back and shook your hand and listened intently to your vision for the music you were creating.
Eddie's presence was magnifying. But differently than you'd expected. You'd seen headlines and heard rumors float about from countless greenroom groupies and stagehands. Eddie Munson had gained quite the salacious reputation within the year fame had found him. He was no stranger to romantic quarrels and quandaries, legal battles, displays of public intoxication, the whole shebang. You knew he was going to captivate you, he already had. But he was not so unruly as the press made him out to be.
Eddie was respectful, desperate to fully understand your musical vison. Eddie was kind, complimenting your work and the tracks you'd scrapped together so far. Eddie was brilliant, adding licks and riffs right away that you'd never dreamed you'd be lucky enough to have featured throughout your music. He helped you write what you hadn't finished. He made you laugh in the middle of recording and apologized profusely when you had to start over and over again.
He said he could only stay for a couple of hours. But two hours turned into two days, turned into two weeks. When it was finished, your third album, Steel & Stone, had a healthy dose of Eddie's input sprinkled throughout. It was more a collaboration than a solo record. It was fucking Beautiful. Your producers thought so too. They said your sounds married well together.
That made Eddie laugh. And then it gave him an idea.
"The album cover should be a wedding! I've got it all figured out!" He excitedly sketched out his suggestions for your albums cover; and because he was so excited, you humored the guy by scheduling a photoshoot. A week later you were cutting up an old, thrifted wedding dress in Eddie's back garden. He'd hired a fake priest and invited some friends over to fill the background.
The pair of you looked fetching, Eddie in his size too small tux. loose tie, hair pulled back. You, in a ragged old dress, pearls hanging past your torso. The photos for the album cover came out killer, you and Eddie looked like a bride and groom out of a horror show. It was perfect.
The paparazzi thought so too. Somehow, someone with a camera and a lot of guts managed to snap a bevy of photos of your make-believe wedding over the hedges of Eddies back garden.
The photos were all over the tabloids the next day, and Hollywood went berserk at the news of your presumed wedding to the rock God. You found out when your phone clattered to life at 7am the next day. You answered the line to a frantic Eddie, who was less concerned about the rumor that you two had gotten legitimately married than the fact that his privacy was so easily invaded. So, you suggested he schedule a meeting with your real estate agent to find a safer, better shielded home. And because he was too frantic to take notes, you huffed and headed over to his humble abode to help the poor boy plan.
It wasn't even twenty-four hours later that rumors the pair of you were house hunting together sparked interest alongside the blurry wedding photos. News of your alleged link to Eddie traveled fast, but your management worked faster. Forty-two hours after the gossip spread, you and Eddie were called in to address the rumor mill.
///
"Sit, both of you, and listen to our pitch in completion before you voice opinions." Eddies manager, Brooke, was stood before an oak desk, she was a sharply dressed middle aged cunning sort of a woman you respected for rising to ranks men usually dominated in the industry.
You and Eddie gave each other a look as you settled in opposite armchairs. This was going to be interesting. Your manager was sat at the head of the desk, eager to have his turn of attention.
"In the past few months, both of you have been in a little trouble with the press, no?" Kelsey began, gazing over his tinted glasses to meet your eye.
"Try the past year." Eddie huffed a laugh, sitting back. The musician really had always been linked to some salacious headlines since his rise to stardom. You were rather new to the negative press, but had done a better job beating the allegations, you thought.
Brooke slid a trio of papers across an oak desk then. One showed a collage of tabloid write ups from the past few days. Every word gushed over the supposed connection you and Eddie shared. It was an overwhelming collection of rose-colored journalism. The other two papers looked like contracts.
"We think," Brooke breathed, glancing to Kelsey, "given the immense positive reaction to your supposed wedding, that you and Eddie staying allegedly betrothed is a divine PR opportunity to push alongside the new album you're each equal parts credited to have made."
"You want us to pretend to be married?" Eddie laughed. The kind of chuckle that burst from behind his teeth, like a kid in class that couldn't help but disrupt.
"Of course we do. Just for five months, till the start of next year. Besides being a brilliant PR move to promote Steel & Stone, it could save your ass, Munson."
"What's my ass got to do with anything?" Eddie quipped.
"Edward, now is a good time to inform you that your label is threatening to drop you if you don't get your shit together before this year ends. You don't want to pass the point of no return, do you?" The news hung in the air with, menacing finality. Eddie's carless behavior was catching up with him.
"Settling down in general is a good look for you. Settling down with this world famous takes no shit rock and roll chick is even better. You both get to remain reckless, except now with morals. America just creamed their pants. The tabloids have already begun rebranding Eddie, let see what was it..." She picked up a daily newsprint to quote...
"Ah yes, 'From Don Juan to I Do, can this wild rocker finally be tamed?' Cheesy but you get the gist. This positive spotlight might be your last before you're dubbed hopeless!" Brooke tossed the newsprint in Eddies lap. He grumbled back a "Hey!"
Then Kelsey spoke up...
"Of course you're not in such hot waters," He pointed your way, "but the sooner we clear up the mess you let your last guitarist make, the better off you'll be."
"I didn't let-"
"You will sign these contracts." Kelsey boomed, jabbing his finger on the dotted line of the paper in front of you. The room went quiet as his voice rattled the walls. "We'd hate for the premier of your new album to be delayed while you remain obstinate."
"You can't do that." You stated. You worried.
"We're going to talk about this." Eddie stretched from his seat and swatted your shoulder to meet him in the hall. You followed gladly, anxious to get out of the tension filled room.
A few steps closer toward the stairwell, Eddie slowed there. "Kelsey is a scary fucker, huh?"
"A lot of information just came at us at once. I think we should-" You tried to reason as you stalled at his side.
"I don't want to delay your album." Eddie blurted; brows pressed tightly together. "I don't want you to have to lug me around for five months either." He leaned against the wall, jamming a fist in one of his many leather pockets for a cigarette.
"I won't be lugging you around, doofus." You laughed, kicking his boots with your heel. "I dunno. You do need a bit of a boost in the social department. Every girl I know has a story about you, Edward Munson."
"Yeah, I know. Got outta control on tours. But you know I've been doing better, we talked in the studio about how big of an idiot I used to be. But I'm tryin'. Apologizin' and shit! I don't want you to feel like you gotta save me. I'm working on that myself!"
"I've witnessed the progress you've made! Lita called last week to gossip and she didn't curse your name once!" You noted, dropping the name of the mutual friend and one Eddie's many ex-lovers.
"See! You don't need to be fake married to me. I'm my own personally savior. Hey, that's a good lyric..."
"Listen. If we did this, it's mostly because I'm worried about the album's release being threatened. And only a little bit because I would want to help clean your social slate and save you from being dropped from the label. So..."
"Awe, you like me enough to clean up after me? Gives me reason to keep making messes..." Eddie sing songed, breathing out smoke and shooting you a wink that made your eyes roll. You had been given a small thrill when you helped Eddie escape disaster upon your first meeting. You wouldn't mind having to look out for him for a few more months in a row.
"Look, do you want my help or not? My offer is about to be swiftly redacted!" You'd been moved to this major act of charity after spending that week in the studio, learning about the guy behind the guitar. He was much more than all those famous songs and infamous rumors and those silly rambled in the broken elevator. He was funny and smart and you liked him enough by now to consider doing this insane fucking thing. But too, there was a pit opening in your stomach that warned if you didn't do exactly as Kelsey wished, he would fuck shit up for you worse than he originally threatened.
"Okay! It seems like we're doing this. But no lugging me, got it!" Eddie sighed past his smoke, decided all of the sudden. You barely had time to process what you'd both agreed to before agreeing, but there you were.
"No lugging!" You echoed, rounding your shoulders as you slinked back into the room with the papers. You didn't like your work being held over your head. But you didn't see much harm in letting the rumors go on a little longer. You were looking at the tabloid cover story about what a perfect couple you made. All very sanguine. Why fix something that wasn't broken?
The pair of you signed on the dotted line.
That same afternoon, you were sent to pick out wedding bands. You quite admired a tiger-eye stone; but before you could ask how much it would cost, Kelsey had picked out gaudy diamond studded rings for both you and Eddie. You then realized this wasn't your relationship at all. None of this was up to you. But you'd be expected to act as if it was.
///
The Beverly Hills Hotel 1986 -
"Tell us about the wedding! Did you write your own vows?" A voice called from a pit full of reporters, each one of them as sly and insatiable as the last.
You and Eddie were sat shoulder to shoulder at the press conference meant to discuss your collaboration album that hit shelves the midnight before. And too, Eddie was meant to announce his L.A residency and you were meant to announce your upcoming tour. But you both knew your alleged wedding would be the subject on the tip of every tongue. This was it. The real test.
"I wanted to sing my vows but apparently that was too theatrical." Eddie joked, charming the room, shooting winks and stretching out smiles. What a fucking bullshitter.
"You've always been a showoff." You glanced to the man out of the corner of your eye as you spoke into your mic on the table before you. He was eating this up.
"That's right. I'm my best self in the spotlight. So now I'd like to announce for the next two months I've accepted a residency at the Roxy. One show every weekend until November. Dates will be in Rolling Stone this Monday!"
Cameras clicked and voices muddled over one another as reporters clamored to ask a million things. Your manager picked one man with a notepad out of the mix. His question was for you.
"Will you be able to enjoy a honeymoon before your husband goes back to work?"
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes,
"I'll be going to work myself. I'm touring this summer, a few dates need decided before tickets go on sale next week. We've got to promote this new album. Any questions about Steel & Stone? Any at all?"
The crowd roared louder than before. Reporters demanded to know why you and Eddie would be spending so much time apart so soon after tying the knot. Questions about the strength of your love and were directed at you like shrapnel. They wanted to know how two musicians with separate demanding schedules could maintain a happy life as a couple. They wanted to know why a honeymoon had failed to be arranged.
"If you must know, we're spending the weekend in Hawaii. Then, my wife and I will get to work promoting this very well made new album that you should all buy and review warmly!"
Oh, this motherfucker. Eddie was concerned about you lugging him around given this arrangement? Well, he never warned you about the bullshit antics he was eager to pull first shot he got a chance. You should have known better than to sign up for anything with this wildcard of a man.
To your surprise, Eddie's little joke couldn't be left to rest. By the end of the press conference Kelsey had your meetings canceled and a flight booked for Honolulu Friday morning. Shit, this was about to be a really weird year.
On the way out of the conference hall, you let Eddie kiss you on the cheek where the cameras could see before hurrying into a shared limo.
"Are you sure you wanna spend two days and three nights in Hawaii together?" You wondered, settling into the ride as it started zooming off. "You might get so sick of me we blow this whole thing."
"Relax babe, we'll be so chill beach side that we won't worry about stuff like that. Plus, why not make the most of this thing? Enjoy it!" Eddie shrugged and looked at you with a softness in his gaze. You saw a reflection of exhaustion you recognized. You both worked hard. Maybe it was time to sit back while the ride whirled on, for now.
"Plus, I'd rather play it cool with you for five more months than get sued for breaking contract." Eddie winked at you and popped open the limos complementary bottle of Champaigne.
///
New York 1988 -
"I wrote my first album at eighteen years old. Sold out Madison Square Garden by 19. Made three platinum records by 20. But Eddie gifted me the song that made my third album the nation's best seller for three months in a row. He played guitar on that track because I asked him too. He squirmed his way onto four more tracks because he was that charming. He was that good. He was one of the best guitarists I knew."
You bragged to Rolling Stone, watching her take notes and nod along, grinning past her cigarette. As she scribbled away you thought back to that time with reverence.
That invitation to play on Steel & Stone was never meant to be more than just that. An invitation for Eddie to play in your studio for a couple hours. But that invitation morphed into a lasting connection no one could have seen coming. You didn't regret that it happened. But perhaps if you hadn't let your management teams concoct such a devious plan to pair the two of you up contractually, you and Eddie would have been spared a world of hurt.
Eddie was one year younger than you but perhaps somehow even more famous. Maybe because he was a man, but probably because he was more talented. You could write, you could sing. But so could Eddie. He wrote and sang and played guitar and bass and drums and was a wizard behind any sound booth. A musician's musician through and through. It's something you admired about him.
But Eddie, like yourself, was a rockstar. He was reckless and late and messy and incorrigible. When the pair of you really got going, you'd bicker like bitches. When you were forced to make appearances together, the bantering made the tabloids. And apparently, sold records too. You'd seen the numbers yourself. Associating with Eddie was good for your career, back then. And vice versa.
"Next question."
///
Hawaii 1986 -
Brooke handled booking your fake honeymoon, thank God. She actually asked where you'd like to stay, how you'd like to spend your false vacation. You fantasized about a tiny little bungalow with shops nearby enough to walk to and days free of any plans.
After your plane landed and your cab ride stopped, you were left standing before the cottage of your dreams. Behind a wooden picket fence was a green home with wide windows, cozy and inviting. You hurried up the porch steps, dragging your suitcase as fast as the heavy thing would follow.
Inside was warm and homey as you could have imagined, big comfy furniture cluttered around a fireplace. A square kitchen with walls full of cabinets, plants on the large stretched out windowsills, a staircase that led to just three bedrooms. The lack of extravagance made you realize you didn't feel at home at all in your ridiculous Hollywood estate. There was more space in that home than you could fill with money or good intention. But this quiet and calm seaside bungalow would break your heart to leave, you already knew.
"Look, they already stocked the fridge," Eddie laughed behind where you admired the homes decor. "Benefits of super stardom I suppose." You turned to meet him where he stood when something else caught your eye.
"Brooke left a note." You realized, finding her scrawl on the kitchen island.
'The next three days are mostly yours to do what you please. But you must be seen out together at least once a day, given the rules of your contract. There are a row of shops a few minutes west of here and there are dinner reservations at the cities most renowned restaurant on your last night. The details and address is at the bottom of this note.'
"Right." You laughed. "It's 'our time to do as we please,' so long as we follow their rules."
"And that's the drawback of super stardom." Eddie pointed, bending to pick up both of your bags, heading toward the stairs. He announced that he'd leave your stuff in the bigger room, assuming there would be one. You announced a thanks for his chivalry and roamed toward the patio doors that opened to a private pool. Past the little garden area was the most spectacular view of the ocean, the roar of the waves providing glorious white noise.
"So... what do we do now?" You called out to your weekend roommate who you lost amongst the floor plan. You thought he was still upstairs. But as you shut the patio doors, Eddie appeared in the doorway of the kitchen with a guitar case in hand.
"Wanna write?"
So with the sun setting and nothing better to do, you sat across from Eddie on opposite ends of the cozy living space and hummed along as he made up chords for what felt like forever. Neither of you spoke much, only letting your craft occupy the time.
How funny this was, in a weird sort of way. When you met Eddie, it wasn't like you were meeting at all. It was as if you'd always known each other. Banter wasn't just easy with him, it was natural. But now, once the pair of you had been left completely alone, the silence between the pair of you was full of tension. He'd look past his curly fringe every once in a while, to shoot you a grin when he liked a melody you came up with. And you'd ask him to show you a tab or two. What happened to the effortless chatter? Why was there a buzzing in your chest in his presence, all of a sudden? It was time to get up, it had to be dinner time now.
You expected the counter space to be full of liquor, as food and drink of all kinds had been stocked. But not a single adult beverage was in your line of sight. You opened a couple of cabinets until you finally found a single bottle of cabernet. Your favorite brand too, thank God.
"I'm making pasta and opening some wine. Do you want a glass?" You called out, knowing Eddie was still one room away.
"No, no." He sighed. "I really shouldn't."
"Shouldn't you? We're supposed to be relaxing and indulging!" You teased, still only getting one glass down from the open-faced cupboard.
"I kind of just got out of rehab." He called back. The news was a shock to you, since you'd met him blindingly drunk, and he hadn't left town since you'd made his acquaintance.
"Oh?"
You listened to the clatter of Eddie's instrument into its case as you found ingredients for your planned meal. His presence in the room was made soon after.
"Went to rehab. Two months. Told everyone I was recording, managed to put out Chains of Sorrow in a reasonable amount of time to make the fans believe I'd been in the studio all that time. I've been doing better." Eddie explained. The solo track he referenced came out four months before you'd met him. You asked if it bothered him that you were drinking now and he gave you a stern no.
"You've been doing better. But not always sober?" You daringly quizzed, Watching the man you fake married move from the far end of the kitchen, closer toward you.
"Recovering, not completely recovered." He grinned, leaning against the marble island. "Call it what you'd like. I've gotten good at only getting smashed at parties and saying no everything other time."
"And how many parties have you been to?" You smiled, casting the guy a suspicious glance.
"Can I help you with dinner?" He chuckled, shaking his head to your previous question. You considered the guy before you, his loosely buttoned cutoff flannel, the flutter of his eyes.
"Come, I'll show you how to make my special spaghetti sauce." You laughed. Eddie smiled in response but did not move per your request. He stood and took a hissing breath in before meeting your gaze to say,
"Before we stray too far from the topic... I have a terrible confession."
You stared at the guy, eyes flickering from his withheld grin to the tattoos on his arms.
"I don't remember meeting you at all. When my manager told me I planned to crash your studio I was so embarrassed. Did I make a complete fool of myself that night?"
"You would have if I didn't help you outrun an angry bartender. And you did ask for my autograph. Like three times. But I got us stuck in an elevator." You chuckled, handing Eddie a knife and placing a trio of tomatoes before him.
"Oh... my God."
"I promised to sign my first record, but you never brought it to the studio... I guess because you didn't remember." You pieced together, setting out other ingredients to add to your sauce as the pasta boiled on the stove. The realization that Eddie had blacked out during your first adventure together selfishly stung. You were left to carry the fond memory all alone. Left to wonder what else he may forget in the future, left to wonder why that might matter much at all to you.
"Alright, I'm going to be perfectly suave on this trip. No more being completely stupid." Eddie grinned and proceeded to follow your instructions on making dinner. The pair of you went on to laugh and cook and talk about Hollywood gossip until midnight.
When it was time for bed, Eddie followed you up the stairs. He went down one hall and you went down another, but not before casting a glance over your shoulder to find Eddie was looking back too.
///
The sun was especially warm the next morning, the rays soothing your skin from the window before the light opened your eyes.
You rose with an anxious glee, excited to find where the day would take you, but nervous all the same. Ever since ending up in this predicament with Eddie, his company made your heartbeat a little heavier. Your connection was an amusement ride, an adventure, an experience.
When you padded out into the main room, you found the patio doors wide open. Your eyes followed a set of footprints in the sand that belonged to Eddie, who was milling about the shore, looking for shells. You smiled to yourself and went about making some coffee, watching the man from the comfort of shelter.
After your morning cuppa and a little nourishment, Eddie popped his head in the doorway.
"Hey!" He called. His curls were dripping sea water onto the hardwood, his chest rising and falling quickly. Did he run up here?
"You're getting the doorway all wet!"
"Come out here with me! The waves are beautiful."
"The ocean freaks me out, Eddie!" You revealed. Would have sooner if his declaration about going to Hawaii wasn't so sudden and so public.
"Awe man!" He rang like a disgruntled grade schooler. "Well at least come walk the shore with me. We have to be seen together, remember?"
There were resorts and shops easily seen to the west of your private beach front. There were surly paps and press waiting nearby to score shots of you and Eddie after his announcement about coming to stay here.
"Ugh, okay." You huffed, declaring something about finding your bikini. You and Eddie had signed a contract. And there was one clear rule. Be seen together as much as possible.
You found Eddie on the shoreline again and trekked to meet him. He smiled at you and asked once more if you'd join him in the sea. The waves were roaring, and the vastness of the water sent a chill down your spine. Your hesitation was answer enough for Eddie, who shrugged and nodded and started walking along the sea's edge, holding out his hand for you to join him.
He let you keep hold of him as the pair of you meandered along the shore, a little closer toward the resorts in the distance. Your ever dancing nerves fell away as the pair of you talked about space and time and the existence of mythical creatures. And at the end of your fantastical conversation Eddie went quiet, letting his deep eyes search your face.
"Should I kiss you? Ya know, in case someone is watching?" He asked matter of factly, stalling in the sunlight that sparkled through his glittering sand sprinkled curls.
"What if no one is watching?" You countered, daring to reach out and loop one of your fingers around Eddies, holding on. The guy simply shrugged, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Considering the rules, you were meant to follow, you let a small nod tilt your chin. Eddie watched you come to a positive conclusion and took his sweet time leaning in. Eddie stalled for a moment, letting his breath fam across your lips, and you thought that was curious. For a kiss just meant for show, he was sure being timid.
"Eddie, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want too." You chuckled only to lighten the tension. He grinned in response, letting his dark eyes dart across your features.
"That's the problem, babe." He rose a brow. "I really want to. More than I ought to."
That made you pause and consider this whole crazy thing. You thought of how you got into this predicament and how Eddie was looking at you now, and the billions of things you wanted to say. In the time you stayed quiet and full of consideration for how to move on, Eddie became too antsy to let you say more at all.
"Should we go back in?"
"No," You shook your head. "No let's enjoy the weather." You assured, reaching a handout to brush Eddie' bicep as if to reassure him. So that's just what you did. You kicked about, dodged waves that came to close to the shore, and baked in the sun until it started to lower from its highest point in the sky.
After running in, washing up, and realizing there was still so much time left to waste, you talked Eddie into going out. You asked him to put on something nice and call a cab to drop the pair of you off at a local place by the sea.
Per the suggestion of the local driver, you and Eddie ended up at a quaint little outdoor eatery. The staff was so delighted by your surprise appearance that they invited you and Eddie to skip the line, sat you at their alleged best table, and poured you each a complimentary glass of champagne.
You tried to wave the waiter off, to dismiss them from giving Eddie the glass of sparkling wine.
"S'okay. Don't wanna be rude." Eddie insisted, taking a small sip out of obligation. You rose a brow and sat back and decided it was a night out. Eddie had said he was doing better. You chose to believe him and placed your order for the night.
"So," You spoke. "Should we come up with an elaborate backstory? Some swoon worthy anecdote about how you asked me to be your wife? A sickly sweet first date memory?"
"I think the story we have is suitable enough. You stopped me from making a fool of myself at a party, let me play on your badass new album, and I fell head over heels." Eddie laughed, but despite himself, it seemed. He breathed out a small sigh as he settled his elbows on the table. It seemed he was trying to say more.
"Everything okay, dear?" You emphasized the pet name to poke fun at your situation. You watched as the well-dressed man chewed his lip in contemplation.
"This whole thing... are you sure you're okay with it?" You knew what he meant.
"Yeah, I mean, it's not hurting us, is it? It's helping you out of the hole you're in with the label and it's selling our album. I never thought I'd be married for real but, this isn't so bad."
"What are you talking about? Everyone loves you. " He pointed, sitting up a little straighter.
"Everyone loves my persona." You pointed, lifting a finger as Eddie rose a brow. "Everyone loves my music. Loving me, is another story. Loving me is personal. I can't imagine letting anyone in that vulnerably, anymore."
"Oh, anymore?" Eddie quipped, sitting back as the waiter brought complimentary appetizers. You were going to refrain from drinking to make Eddie feel more comfortable, but at the turn of topics, you reached for the glass to calm the jitters.
"You know how I needed a someone to play guitar on my album?" You recalled. Eddie nodded, obviously. "Well, that's because I let my last guitarist get to know me a little too well."
You downed your champagne and was delighted when a staff member dropped another off right on cue.
"Go on, please..." Eddie motioned with a fork, taking a bite of food and staring at you with curious intensity.
"Well I'm sure you've heard the rumors." You shrugged.
"I have." Eddie carefully admitted. "But I always figured they were nothing more than just rumors. I do want to hear your side of the story..."
"My last guitarist and I had a fling. And right when I started to think I loved him... well it just didn't work out. So after the breakup, this motherfuker went around telling every studio musician that the only way they could play on my album was in exchange for sex. He said that was the price he had to pay. As if we hadn't been dating." You began with a scoff. "He took it further by telling the press I slept my way to the top. Probably because I wasn't giving him the time of day near then end and he was bitter that I'd been with so many others who are far more relevant than he'll ever be."
You reveled to Eddie some of the more horrific details of your last disastrous relationship and how it ended, because he asked. Eddie seemed to genuinely listen to the details you gave. Eddie took a few more sips of champagne.
"Fuck that dude to the moon and back. You didn't tell me I had the shoes of an asshole to fill!" Eddie grumbled past his mouth full of food.
"That's because I didn't want you filling his shoes. I like your shoes. I like you. And I'm grateful you played on my album and that crazy as it is, that we're in this fucked up situation together."
"This just... isn't how I wanted things to be with you."
"Oh?" You wondered, taking a hesitant bite of the dinner that had just been delivered.
"I mean... the whole thing with the contract and the lie. I thought I could ask you out for a nice dinner, like a normal date. I feel shitty about having trapped you in some kind of publicity stunt."
"You wanted to take me out for real?" You grinned, settling into your posture.
"I did. But now it's this whole circus and it's so disingenuous. I don't want you to think I'm getting to know you because I'm contractually obligated."
"You're a sweetheart, you know that?" You smiled. Eddie smiled back, and seemed to wait for you to speak further, but you had nothing more to say, you couldn't have any more to say. You planned to keep your heart on lock down. You planned to remain closed off. Being open and willing with others had only resulted in heartache in the past, in this industry. And you couldn't imagine that with Eddie. You wanted to enjoy your time with Eddie.
"I'm not willing to let my guard down for you, Eddie. But we can make the most of our circumstance, if you really want."
"What do you mean?" He puzzled, brow furrowed.
"Ask me again back at the house." You shrugged and smiled and sipped more champagne.
Dinner went on between bits of conversation that grew deeper each sentence. Eddie revealed childhood traumas. You voiced secrete fears about your career. The pair of you laughed hard over old jokes you'd heard on TV specials and picked four albums each you'd bring on deserted islands. You each finished one more glass of champagne.
Hawaii was stunning, even at night. You wondered if Eddie made the comment knowing how lovely it was here, if he needed such a rejuvenating get away. He seemed less at ease as the evening went on, however, chewing at his lip and wringing his hands the whole ride home. You hoped you plans for tonight would change that... but he had to ask you that question again.
///
Back at the house you stood, squinting to see the midnight waves from the patio doorway. Relishing their sounds, the crash of the ocean, the breeze through the windchimes near the pool. This was proving to be a very relaxing getaway indeed. You could get used to Eddies ideas. He was off up the stairs, getting ready to call it an evening you presumed. But then he appeared in his swim trunks, headed straight for the hot tub on the patio. He announced his intentions and halfheartedly invited you to join.
How curious, you thought, Eddie was so magnetic, but every time the pair of you became secluded in this home, he seemed to hide a bit of himself away all the same. You understood it, of course. Youd just admitted to doing the very same. But the pair of you had been more than open with each other by now. What had him so aloof here?
You shrugged, and spun to put on a record while concocting a plan. Of course you were banking on Eddie bringing up the question you once reminded him too, but a little nudge wouldn't hurt. After picking a Chet Baker album to spin, you decidedly flounced over toward the hot tub, watching Eddie rest there with his gaze locked on you.
"You're supposed to join me, remember?" He called, sinking a little lower beneath the bubbling waters. You watching his dark eyes fix on yours, and made your decision.
"If you insist." You smiled. The silky dress you'd worn to dinner would surely be ruined by the chemically enhanced waters. So, you slipped it off right there on the patio and hurried to the hot tub in undergarments that were just as good as any bikini.
"Happy now?" You rang, sinking so far below the water that only your eyes floated above the surface, locking on to Eddies still intensely held gaze.
"Delighted in the throes of post false marital bliss." Eddie laughed, a breathy sound he seemed to have to force a little. His eyes tore away from yours, looking for a distraction. "Shame they gave us the rings you don't like, though." He held a hand up from the bubbles to consider his diamond studded band. Yours matched because it had too.
"The rings are ugly. But we've made it work well so far I think. Haven't been this sure of a relationship since Steve Vai, you know?" It was a joke, but it was not. You'd loved your time with Steve. It was your most renowned relationship in the eyes of the press and all your friends to date. And though this time with Eddie was a sham, the connection you had to him felt frighteningly natural.
"Fuckin' Vai. Why'd you guys break up anyway? Seemed good together."
"Steve got back with his college girlfriend around the same time I opened for Metallica. Kirk swept me off my feet."
"You and Kirk? So that really happened." Eddie gapped at you with a grin. You'd kept that relationship on the down low, though a few good paparazzi photos tried to test the limits of the connection you'd had with the metal guitarist. He broke your fucking heart, ending things when that tour was said and done.
"I have a type, it seems. Dark haired dreamy eyed guitarists." The one before you now was the most intriguing of them all. And he knew it too. He had too. The way his eyes locked on yours changed. The way silence fell between the pair of you rang loud with anticipation, no matter who might speak next.
"What did you mean earlier?" Eddie finally wondered.
"When I said we could make the most of this, if you wanted?" You grinned, staying put for a beat longer in the spot you'd been floating. What you were about to suggest would either make or break the next five months you were meant to endure together. You sincerely hoped it would land well. You watched Eddie nod for you to continue.
"Well, I simply won't allow myself to fall in love with you." You prefaced, inching closer. It was easy to move through the water, stalling centimeters away from the man who shared the space with you. You could feel the heat radiating from Eddies form- even though the warmth of the bubbling water. "But I wouldn't mind enjoying the benefits of having a partner, even if we're just playing pretend." You dared to glide flush against the rockstar, resting each of your knees on either side of his lap with calculated caution. A set of his fingers brushed against your thigh in an instant, but that could have been a reflex. You needed a yes or no.
"Wanna have fun while this is meant to last?" You asked in a hush, your fingers resting gently on Eddies broad shoulders. His other hand came to rest on your hip. His faltered smirk gave you confidence to lean in for a kiss no one could see.
He kissed you back, lips timidly locked against yours, muscles tense under your fingers. But after a couple more careful pecks, his passion grew. Eddies lips parted against yours, and a sigh escaped his lips. You had him right where you wanted him. He grabbed you, nails dug into your hips, teeth piercing against your neck.
You had no fear raking your fingers through his curls to claw at the roots of his hair, maneuvering him to kiss your lips again. Eddie did so intensely, tongue jammed down your throat. His grip pulling you closer, his hips jutting up against yours. You couldn't wait much longer to go all the way, body language suggesting that's how far the pair of you would take this, it seemed.
Eddie whined a curse as your hand slipped below his waist band, kissing hard as ever. He let his fingers drift across your form until he reached the hem on your underwear, yanking them to the side. Before you knew it you were sliding into his lap as he pushed completely into you. Eddies fingers bruised against your hips and your nails dug into the back of his neck. You both rocked together, slack jawed and doe eyed, gazes fastened.
When your efforts were exhausted and passions simmered, Eddie moved your underwear back, and fixed his shorts all the same. He let his lips press against your forehead, leaving a couple gentle pecks there. He let his fingers brush against your face, cradling  your cheek as his eyes fluttered to land on yours.
"That was amazing." Eddie stressed all the right syllables. "But please... never fucking do that again."
You were too stunned to respond. Frozen now in complete confusion. Luckily, he had more to say.
"If you won't let me really love you, I can't do what we just did again. Because I'm already dangerously close to really loving you. And it would suck to have my feelings fucked around with. I understand if you aren't willing to open up. But please understand that's where we're very different." Eddie chose his words carefully and watched your eyes as he explained himself.
"O- okay." You managed to nod. "Yeah, I hear you." It was a reasonable explanation, an understandable stance. But you felt that familiar pit opened up inside you while he spoke. And it felt more empty and hollow than ever.
Despite that, you tried to cling to the fact that you'd just had the pleasure of shagging the guy, and how divine it was to feel him pull you closer the whole time. You reveled in Eddie's kindness as he helped you out of the hot tub. He guided you inside and upstairs and insisted you be the first to use the one shared bathroom. You knew this was going to be a weird year. But it kept getting weirder.
///
The next morning, you woke just before the sun. With quiet steps, you readied yourself in the loo and headed downstairs, out the door. Desperate for the freedom of normalcy, you started walking in the direction of the shops Brooke had left directions too. After a couple blocks, a variety of bodegas came into view. There were hardly any cars or bikes on the street, and only a few pedestrians popping from one shop to the next.
This was perfect. If there was any commotion over your presence here, it would likely be very minimal. A stall selling fresh fruit and veg was being opened by an older gentleman as you admired a cart full of flowers a foot away. Some store fronts were still closed as the early morning was still new. But the handful you slinked in and out of were open and occupied by people who were more or less unphased by you. A few whispers and pointed fingers among friends, and stares and smiles from clerks was perfectly tolerable. You offered them smiles and waves as you admired locally made clothes and lotions and oils.
But men with cameras waited outside, word spreading fast that you'd made your way into town. There weren't many photographers, thank God, maybe five. And they were respectful as could be, calling your name and welcoming you to the island. You gave them rushed acknowledgement and waved them off when they demanded to know where Eddie was. They didn't need to know he was sleeping soundly in the spare room of your shared bungalow. But they could watch as you decided to buy fresh produce from the little local man at the edge of the hamlet. A nice big breakfast sounded nice.
As you thanked the vendor and made your way to head home, the men with cameras began to follow your footsteps. You dreaded having to beg them away. But this time, you didn't have to. The vendor who'd sold you a canvas bag full of produce shouted ardently enough to get the paparazzi to stay back and let you be on your way. You knew you'd love it here. You knew it would be hard to go back to L.A. but you didn't have to yet. The only thing on your agenda was to make breakfast.
Eddie was already in the kitchen when you'd walked back. You could tell from the sound of a mug rattling against the counterspace and the drip of the coffee machine. He rolled his shoulders to adjust to the morning as you carried your fresh food into the little room.
"I popped to the shops! It was sort of nice. There were only a few paps out."
"Did they bother you?" Eddie seemed to worry, locking a puzzled gaze on you before peeking in on what groceries you brought home.
"Almost. But a nice older shop owner shooed them off from following me home. I really like it here." You lamented, not taking a single moment for granted. Soaking up the sights and sounds of the kitchen as you opened the white chipped cupboards, catching glances of the ocean out the window. You announced your intentions to make breakfast and Eddie hummed past his coffee. He stayed quiet afterward, lingering as you mucked about with pots and cutting boards.
The room was full of quiet tension again. Not like something ominous was near happening. Just the weight of the obvious being unspoken. You knew Eddie liked you more than he should. And you both knew you couldn't let yourself feel the same. Knowing all this, you went on slicing tomatoes. And turning on the radio. And switching stations when one of your songs came on.
The rest of the trip was spent in quiet; shared meals and movie marathons on one particular rainy afternoon. Small conversations and one last wordless jam session.
You were really going to miss it here.
///
L.A. 1986 -
It was Eddie's debuted at the Roxy, the first of a string of already sold-out shows. He asked you to perform with him to kick things off.
Backstage, you hesitantly watched his bandmates pour him several shots. You helped him decide what to wear and let him give you a sloppy kiss in front of a reporter. His tongue jammed toward your throat, his hands splayed against your hips, and he continued even after the snaps from the camera ended. Then, when the room got a little quieter, and when you were starting to lose feeling in your lips, Eddie pulled away and murmured something in your ear.
"Felt like a real kiss. Wish it was. Wish you'd really wanna be my girl." His words slurred. He was clearly already inebriated. But it wasn't like he was wasted. The words shot a thousand feelings from your heart into your nervous system, anger being the most immediately powerful. You shoved the man's shoulders to loosen his grasp on you, his face fell. The reporter's camera started clicking again.
"You're pushing your luck." You warned. He was trying to get a rise out of you, right? He was trying to get you to cause a scene for the photographer to capture, right? He was whiskey talking, right? He said your name and tried to reach for you as you blocked his advances.
"Go toward the stage." You demanded, turning the musician by the shoulders in the right direction. He protested for you to listen, but you couldn't do this right now. You couldn't imagine doing this ever. He knew you couldn't let yourself go there.
"Shut the hell up Eddie. You've got a show to put on. I'll meet you out there. Son of a bitch." You whined, shoving the musician toward the side stage as he tried to get you to wait up. But he was being introduced and the cheers from the crowd called the man to saunter toward the mic center stage.
Why the fuck did he say all that? You couldn't stop playing it over and over in your head. Why did it make your heart stop a little? You stole the bottle of whiskey from a stagehand and went to shake out your jitters in his dressing room. You had three songs until you would share the mic with Eddie. That gave you time for a drink and a half, a few vocal warmups, and a sudden costume change into suede platforms that made your toes a little less constricted.
Just as you stomped into your last boot, a stage hand came rushing over, stealing back the bottle of whiskey and pulling you toward the stage. You stormed into the spotlight where you met Eddie, playing a riff that a steady drumbeat accompanied. He started singing, staring right at you while you added harmonies you could barely hear over the cheers from the crowd. It was the single from Steel & Stone. It was a packed house, audience from stage to sidewalk outside the entry. An Eddie sized crowd. He deserved bigger yet, you thought.
The pair of you stared each other down throughout the next couple songs, and you danced next to the bass player when Eddie broke into a few guitar solos. When the last song you were meant to share ended, you bowed, thanking the people in the front row. But Eddie spoke into the mic.
"Baby, baby, wait don't leave." He sing-songed, stopping your exit with a breathy plea. "No, not yet. She's about to leave for three months ya'll." Eddie addressed the audience who awed in commiseration. The fuck was this about? A public display of sorrow so the nearest magazine reporter could write in that Eddie seemed to really adore his wife in the middle of the review for this show?
"Why don't you sing one more song. Just you. Just for me. Before you go." Eddie looked at you, his voice echoing from the stage to the back of the venue. The crowd applauded the idea and you paused in consideration. You rarely passed up the opportunity to preform, but this was Eddies' show. You decided since he was giving you puppy dog eyes, and a room full of a few hundred were chanting for you to do it, you would.
"Okay but it's gonna be one of your songs, got it? You gotta come see me on tour if you want one of mine." You took the mic, and as he stepped away Eddie smiled and said "Deal."
You picked your favorite Corroded Coffin number and the band behind you knew exactly where to jump in almost right away. Eddies music was heavy and hard to sing, but you'd gotten pretty good at it, putting on fake concerts on the patio of that little Hawaiian bungalow.
You sang your heart out, you sang for Eddie like he'd asked. He played toward the left of the stage, mesmerized by your every move. The number ended with the thrash of a few cymbals and the crowd going wild. As you backed away from the mic, Eddie came toward you. You met him halfway, planted a kiss on his lips for show, but also partly for revenge's sake. You hoped the gesture would leave him as frustratedly guessing as his left you.
///
LAX 1986 -
"We land in Ireland, I'll play two shows. Then it's Glasgow, Manchester, London, and then France. You're coming to Paris, right?" You listed off the first half of your European leg as Eddie matched the pace you set; a steady march down the tarmac of the airport. He had an arm tossed over your shoulder for show, and his head bent in to hear you better as you spoke up past the roar of the jet you approached. Beyond the aircraft were a roped off coral of press and fans who'd gathered to see you off. Their shouts didn't make conversation any easier. But their smiles when you offered a gentle wave settled the usual despair in the pit of your stomach.
"Yes, three weeks from today, I'll be seeing you again in the most romantic city of all." Eddie grinned as you stalled to face him. 
"I hope your Roxy gigs stay sold out. You can call me to brag about em if you'd like." You smiled up to the guy, admiring his hair that moved with the gentle morning breeze. You'd miss his companionship. You'd grown quite fond of having a friend nearby, despite being almost strictly business partners. That's all this was, you reminded yourself.
"I'll take you up on that offer. You better call me at least when you make it safely overseas. And anytime at all, if you want." Eddie grinned at the same time he let a hand smooth the back of your hair. His fingers settled loosely at the base of your neck to pull you close for a kiss to the forehead, for show, you reckoned. Eddie insisted on walking you onboard the flight and you took the time to introduce him to the band you'd be traveling with. 
Izzy, the bassist, had only ever played on Neil Young's tours. The guy was excited for a change of pace, touring with you. Ambrose the guitarist was new to the scene but a damn fine player. He'd seemed to keep almost totally to himself. Your drummer was called Zed. He asked Eddie for a spare cigarette and informed you he'd brought snacks for the plane ride. Everyone was nice enough, but your nerves stood on end when you realized you were about to be far from home with a bunch of practical strangers and your vile ass manager to boot.
"I'll call you right when we land." You nodded to Eddie, who lingered near the exit of the jet. But it was less because he'd asked you to call, and more now because you knew you'd be a little desperate to hear a familiar voice as soon as you'd be able too. But Eddie didn't need to know that. 
///
Ireland was beautiful. You hadn't quiet found a friend in any of your new band mates by then. But since Kelsey was busy managing a whole new team of people, his pressures never quiet landed on you, those first few days. You knew the steps to take around that maniac of a man. What to say and withhold to keep from setting the manager off. So, things seemed to be going well.
You told Eddie as much when you rang him the next three nights in a row, and laughed as he told you a story of his recent invitation to lunch with the Osbornes. Eddie had a newer, wilder story every night. And you swore you slept better when he wished you well at the end of every chat.
You were hopeful for this tour. The first few shows flew by with ease. You'd hardly had many kinks to work out with the new band. You were able to keep to yourself. You were treated like royalty by every villa foreman, wait staff member and venue manager.
But on the ride from Manchester to London, something shifted. You wanted to blame the dreary weather. You wanted to blame end of the fortnight fatigue. But a gnawing deep in the pit of your core warned you that something was simply not right. You mulled over telling Eddie. Calling him to ask if he thought you might be going crazy. If he believed in the power of premonitions. You didn't feel like you could ask that same question to Ambrose or Izzy. They'd hardly given you the time of day, off stage. Maybe you'd try with Zed, who'd offered you countless snacks and played a couple heated rounds of eye spy with you from city to city. But what if your desire for a deeper connection scared off the one potential friend you had in your drummer? What if asking Eddie if he thought you were going crazy made him realize you probably were, and he couldn't even pretend to be your friend anymore, let alone your lover? Why were you letting yourself care?
"Practicing telekinesis?" Zed interrupted your internal downward spiral by plopping down at your side on the aisle seat of the plane. "You've been staring a hole through this page of Rolling Stone for at least a half hour."
"Oh, hi." You huffed a laugh, shutting the magazine you'd forgotten was open in your lap. "Just thinking." You sighed, settling deeper into your chair. 
"Don't let Kelsey know." Zed scoffed. "It's his ideas or nothing around here isn't it? Why does he have to kill the vibe so bad?" 
"I hope he isn't starting his bullshit already. This tour has been fine! He just has this sick desire for things to go his way, whether they're going well or not."
"We're in for a looong tour, then, huh?" Zed rolled his eyes and stole the magazine you'd shut. Whether or not anyone around you believed in the power of intuition, you knew something bad was coming.
///
The phone line buzzed and buzzed. Almost to the same beat as a drip of rainwater from your balcony doorway. The streets of London sounded frenzied even from far off. You were about to let out your held breath and hang up when someone finally answered.
"Hellooooo?" A high pitched greeting came across the other line. Certainly not the tone you'd been expecting to hear. Another wave of trepidation dawned in your gut. But instead of admitting to yourself that much, you decided to match the girl's inflection. 
"Hiiii." You wickedly grinned, hoping what you said next would wash the girl over with the same unease. "This is Eddie's wife. I'm sure he has a minute to spare."
"Oh." The girls pitch shifted immediately as the receiver became muffled. Only seconds passed before the person you were calling finally picked up. 
"You just scared the shit out of her." Eddie chuckled. "It's not funny but it's... it's a little funny."
"I'm cracking up." You rolled your eyes. "Listen is there any way you can book a flight a day early for Paris?"
"Nice to hear from you too. Geeze, what's got you sounding so serious and scary?" 
"This tour!" You snapped, but followed with a groan. "I'm sorry I just- I need a night off or something." 
"I hear you." Eddie seemed to understand. "I'm sure I can catch a flight for tomorrow. What's the occasion?" 
"Kelsey is booking a couple press things and demanding I get you to be a part of some of them." You twisted the phone cord around your index finger and rolled your eyes again, imagining the girl that answered the phone throwing herself back into Eddie's bed. 
"Yeah, Brooke can make anything happen. I'll have her get me out there by tomorrow night. Plus the press keeps doing us wonders. You've seen last weeks write ups, calling you and me rock and roll royalty, right?" Eddie smiled; you could hear it in his voice.
"Yeah," You began. "And we've all seen this morning's Star headline. How is making out with three different girls in front of the entire Rainbow Room supposed to keep you and me a happy couple in the headlines? You gotta be more careful Eddie." You ranted, more pissed than you ought to have been about other women taking up Eddie's time and space. 
"Wait, last night- that's a headline?" Eddie's tone sounded grave. "Shit. I- I'm sorry. I was drinking and..."
"Forgot." You realized, finishing his sentence. "So should I call your babysitter Brooke instead? Should I expect you not to remember this conversation?"
"Listen I don't know what's got you so agitated over there. But can you not take it out on me? I will see you tomorrow. And I will figure out a way to convince the press there are no issues. I can clean up my own messes, remember?" 
"Got it. Sorry. Bye." You finalized, slamming the phone down with a heavy exhale. Right on cue, Kelsey was in your doorway, yelling about how you were going to be late to sound check if you weren't standing up and running toward the limo right then and there. You were thirty minutes ahead of schedule. But still somehow, your manager threatened to grab ahold of you if you weren't speed walking ahead of him in the next ten seconds.
Zed and Izzy appeared, rushing ahead of the rest of the band, cursing at Kelsey, demanding he lay off. But you're already hurrying to shut up his rage.
///
France 1986 -
After a break of dawn radio interview, Kelsey rushed you along to a high-end cafe where supposedly a reporter from Europe's most renowned pop culture magazine was waiting for a one on one with you. Your manager certainly knew his was around keeping you relevant but didn't seem to care if his efforts exhausted you or not. You blinked away thoughts of a nap, straightened the ripped-up suit jacket you wore over tights, and struggled not to stop in your tracks when you glanced up to a booth to find Eddie there.
He looked sleepy as you, hair all mused, ripped up Led Zeppelin tee straining against his fit figure. Eddie said he'd make it, you weren't shocked he had. But you were alarmed, more or less, by how he lit up when he saw you. And how at ease that made your entire being feel. Wishes of nap time and bubble bath breaks didn't seem as pressing any longer. You were relaxed in Eddies presence, and he hadn't even said hello. And that really freaked you out. You needed to get a fucking grip.
Brooke popped into frame too, walking up to great you with a smile and a hug. She complimented your makeup and turned to inform Kelsey the reporter was on her way inside. You gravitated toward the man waiting in the raised up booth, grinning as he smiled broadly your way. 
"I told you I'd make it in time." Eddie sing songed, holding out an arm as you slid in the booth at his side. The guy pressed his ring clad hand to one side of your head and his lips to the other.
"Thank you." You rose a brow and nodded his way. "We're being interviewed together it seems. I'm sure our managers arranged this for a reason. I'm sure they'll ask about those photos with the girls you were out with. Should we get our story straight?"
"I think I have the right words ready. Anyway, since this whole thing is based on a lie, I think it's best we stay as honest as possible about everything else... avoid digging ourselves into too deep a hole." Eddie reasoned. 
"Well, it's not totally based on a lie, it's not like-" You began to argue back, a little too desperate to mention that you liked Eddie enough to agree to this whole crazy thing with him. You couldn't have imagined being falsely married to anyone else. But Kelsey interrupted you, waving a warning that the reporter was walking in, alerting you to be on your best behavior. God he was becoming more unbearable as the days dragged on. 
The reporter was an older woman, dressed drabber than you would've expected. She chain smoked as you and Eddie shared a diet soda and answered her questions with easy smiles.
"How is the tour going for you?" She pointed, locking her tired eyes with yours while you droned on about the professionalism of your bandmates and the electricity of your fan base and how much more connected to them you felt on the road.
"It's so much easier to get to know people when I'm playing for them, watching them sing along, meeting them after each show." You said. 
"It seems that's a factor you reap the rewards of as well, Mr. Munson. You're aware that photos of you romancing a couple of fans have been spread across every major tabloid, no?"
Between the reporter's question, and Eddies deep breath in, you felt Kelsey's gaze like a dagger. And your mouth started moving before your brain stopped you otherwise. 
"Of course he's aware.  This is the lifestyle we each chose." You hurried to end this part of the conversation you'd been dreading.
"So, is that to say you've had these same sort of affairs?"
"That's to say that Eddie and I are happily married to each other. What happens with anyone else is irrelevant to us and should be irrelevant to the rest of the world as well."
You hoped your answer would put an end to this segment of questions as you firmly glanced to  Eddie, who sat clenching his jaw. He feigned a smile right on queue, when the next question targeted his way was about how his shows were going. The interview didn't last much longer before a photographer was introduced. The man led you and Eddie toward the back garden of the cafe where you posed for a shockingly small amount of photos for the magazines cover. Eddie kept his bejeweled fingers curled at your side as you settled in his lap. You gazed down at him and searched his dark eyes, hoping he was less mad at you than he obviously was just moments ago. If he was, he played it off well, planting a kiss on your cheek as you looked back toward the flashing camera. 
When the people from the magazine shook your hands and headed to leave, Kelsey bought lunch for you, Eddie and Brooke. When the managers when inside to order, Eddie pulled out a cigarette and slouched in the chair you rose from, suddenly desperate to get off his lap.
"Why did you speak for me? I was ready to own up to that shit. I was ready to say all the right things." Eddie waved a hand and let his head hang back as he breathed out smoke.
"And I'm sure you would have. But the world doesn't care about why a man cheats on his woman. They care about how the woman feels about it. And so long as they know I don't give a shit then we stay happily married. Isn't that the point of all of this? To stay happy and get this all over with as soon as possible?" You paced as you answered, stalling with a sigh at Eddies side. But you weren't done rambling...
"Can we just forget about it? That photoshoot is gonna be killer and the fact that we're being seen together after your little tryst is gonna change everyone's minds. We're doing the right things. Can we please just not worry about it anymore? I've got enough to worry about out here."
Eddie sat up and looked at you with what you hoped was concern but worried was something closer to appalment. But then he took another drag and started to nod.
"I guess I see where you're coming from." Eddie seemed to choose his words carefully. After a few more puffs he spoked once more, changing the subject. "Can I take you out after the show? Have a little fun? You're too wound up."
You looked to him and nodded, trying not to give away how much of a thrill it really was to you that he was asking this sort of thing. This tour had your emotions all frazzled and confused, damn it. You really did need a night out.
///
You put on a badass show that night. When you weren't signing to the front row, or screaming toward the sky, you were glancing to the side of the stage where Eddie stood watching. He was all smiles, clapping and mouthing encouragement you couldn't quite read but felt the well-meaning of from centre stage. Kelsey was even bearable, clapping your back when it was all said and done, finding someone else's throat to jump down for the evening. This made it easy for Eddie to sweep you away, out for a night of good old fashioned fun.
You wound up in some burlesque pub, accepting free shots and signing your autograph on dinner napkins for a dozen scantily clad dancers. 
"I'll have a rum and coke." Eddie shrugged to a waiter, as a crowd of strangers clamored closer to the booth you'd occupied with your alleged man. 
"Is that a good idea?" You asked, careful of your intonation. Worried only a little about Eddie finding annoyance in your question. Worried more by the idea of him with alcohol. 
"I promise to handle my liquor tonight. Only drinking to celebrate the kick ass show you just put on. Hard to come down from that high and I wasn't even on stage, babe!" Eddie excused his drinking, and made you feel valuable in one suave sentence. 
"Well thanks," You nodded decidedly, flagging down someone to mix you a mojito. "One drink." You hopped Eddie would echo your number, agree to the limit. But he changed the subject as if he hadn't even heard the past few words you spoke at all. 
"You sounded so fucking good tonight. What warm up's are you doing to keep your screams so effortless? I'm always exhausted halfway through a set. Would never be able to tell if you were or not." 
"You're full of compliments tonight." You rose a brow, speaking loud, you realized. Even though Eddie leaned in close the club was still pounding with bass and drum and crowd buzz. 
"Well, I mean them." Eddie smiled. He let his eyes fall across the features of your face. He ordered another drink. Another rum and coke. He said he was following your one drink rule by not ordering something different. You couldn't help but scoff a laugh and go with the flow, not wanting the night spent by his side to sour or end. Eddie drank and laughed his way through a story about his bandmates high school prom date. He asked you where you grew up. He listened while you yammered on all the same. 
And sometime between your fifth mojito, a foreigner was handing you a microphone. You didn't know quite how you wound up being dragged toward the little club stage to sing Don't Go Breaking My Heart with a man in a pristinely applied wig and bright make up. You never saw Eddie find his way toward the front of the venue either. But when you glanced out to find him laughing and cheering along in a little wicker chair, you'd felt something in your soul settle. You felt your smile grow. You felt a reason to keep singing.
When your surprise performance ended and your once in a lifetime duet partner sent you off the stage with a kiss on the cheek, Eddie stayed sat in his chair near the stage. But he'd held his arms out wide, and you didn't think twice about falling into his lap like you'd never belonged any place else.  Eddies lap was warm. His arms enclosed your waist securely. His lips pressed a couple of kisses to your shoulder as you leaned back into him. You needed this. You'd been longing for comfort. For a care. A very drunken part of you was even beginning to consider calling it love. But the other well trained half of your nervous system shut out that blossoming idea. 
Still, you let yourself enjoy whatever spell you were under in that little burlesque club. You sat in Eddie's lap and let him hold you while a few other performers came and went. And just before last call, Eddie nudged you from your perch and decided your night was over easily as he'd decided on making it happen for you all those hours ago.
"Thanks for that. It was fun to get out, break free from a schedule." You mentioned, walking alongside the guy. Your hotel was only two blocks away, and no one was out, with cameras or otherwise.
"Of course. I needed it too. Nothings is as fun with anyone but you these days." Eddie said, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he matched your pace along the pavement. 
"Easy now. Don't have to keep wooing me. No one is watching anymore." You teased, ignoring the sinking in your stomach. Ignoring those dangerous thoughts that had started to bubble in your mind back at the club. 
"I know." Eddie replied, softly yet surely. 
His arm stayed firm across your shoulder as he went on to joke about something that the waiter had said earlier. You laughed and rambled on down the block until your hotel came into view around a certain corner. In the glow that illuminated from inside out, stood a small gathering of your fans. Four or five friends who all danced a little at the sight of you approaching, waving your records and posters in their clutch. 
"Well hello everyone." You chuckled, moving with more intention, closer to the group and out of Eddies grasp. Without a second thought you started signing albums and listening to pairs of friends tell you how much your music meant to them. You relished being able to hear their stories, to be able to connect with people who gave a fuck about you for longer than a second outside busy airport gates and vip green room meet ups.
One of the meeker girls, to your surprise, caught the attention of the man who'd been hanging back, watching with a grin as you shone.
"Eddie, can I have your autograph too?"
"Ah, you don't want mine, do you? We'd all much rather have hers." Eddie sauntered closer to the group, eyes steady on your form, you realized, when you turned to smile at him. "In fact, I'm still waiting on one myself."
The pit that usually felt like a void in your gut seemed to fill with butterflies and ocean waves then. It was getting hard to ignore the fact that you liked this man more than a little. After saying pleasant goodnights and farewells to the small group of your admirers, Eddie walked you up to your room. He did not reach out an arm across your shoulder. He did not even brush his arm against yours the whole journey seventeen stories up. The absence of touch felt heavy and hurtful.
And when you stood lingering in the doorway of your room after asking if he would come inside, he shook his head. Funny how quickly agony replaced excitement. Funny how you'd only moments ago marveled over how close enough he was to touch. How you now despised the space between you entirely.
Eddie only shoved his closed fists into his leather pockets and let his unsteady focus bounce between either of your eye's.
"You know I want to. And you know why I won't." Eddie said.
"Well..." You tried like mad to get out what you wanted to say. But you weren't even sure how you were really feeling let alone able to express that much. Your pause was too long. Eddie pressed a divine kiss to your hairline, finally closing the space in between you, but tragically ending the time you'd got to spend with him. Eddie slinked off and around the corner, out of sight, hardly out of mind. 
The hall got quiet. Your heart felt loud. Must've meant bedtime.
///
A couple weeks passed by without hearing from Eddie at all. A couple weeks had passed since you'd heard from anyone but Kelsey, constantly screaming in your ear, waking you up, rushing you to sound checks, telling you to throw away breakfast because there was no time to eat it.
When the phone in your latest hotel room rang after a much-needed hour long bath, you ran to answer after its first clatter.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's Brooke. Do you have a minute?"
Oh, how curious. The pit in your stomach buzzed with worry as your brain collected a million reasons for Eddie's managers phone call.
"I should, yeah. How are you, Brooke?"
"I'm okay. Eddie isn't. Last night he caused a bit of a scene on stage at the Roxy, he was so drunk he could barely remember the words let alone sing them. This morning, I found him hanging out of the back of his limo, almost passed out on the side street of the Troubadour. He asked me to drive him back to rehab. He wanted you to know before you found out through the news."
You let out a long sigh. Frustrated. Worried. Confused. Brooke went on to leave you an address to write to, saying he'd asked you too.
So, after hanging up you didn't waste any time pulling out the hotel's free stationary, scribing one really long letter. You wrote about how the tour felt like hell and how you couldn't wait to be home. You wrote about how proud of Eddie you were for seeking help and taking time for himself. And you dreamed of doing the same, asking him to tell you any and everything he would be comfortable sharing.
That afternoon you left the letter in Kelsey's grasp, asking the manager to mail it. The next few days, a cycle was born. Wake up. Write Eddie, leave the letter with Kelsey, sing a bunch of songs.
Then your drummer came knocking on your door.
"Do you plan on writing Eddie anymore letters?" Zed wondered, curiously. You didn't think much of it, he'd probably seen you leaving the envelopes with your manager.
"Yeah." You shrugged.
"Well, I found a stack of them in Kelsey's room. He hasn't mailed any. So, I gave them to the front desk of the hotel to send out this morning. I hope that's okay?" Zed went on to explain that he'd figured you'd want them sent as soon as possible, hoping he hadn't crossed an odd boundary. The pit in your stomach threatened to swallow you hole. The thought of Eddie sitting in rehab, wondering if you were going to send letters like he asked, receiving nothing. You worried at the thought of letting him down, even though you'd never intended to.
"Fuck man. Thank you, Zed." You grumbled some curses against your manager and thanked your drummer a few dozen times for sending the post and letting you know what you should've known better about, you guessed. Like he'd sensed you talking shit, Kelsey slinked in the room soon after, asking you to get a move on. But you'd been ready to go. Moving faster to get the sorry excuse of a man away from your sight.
"See how much nicer things go when you don't piss me off?" Kelsey called across the hall. You begged to differ.
///
On the way to the next gig, you heard a familiar tune on the radio. Lyrics you'd written. A riff of your bass players on creation. Prince's vocals mysteriously added to the mix.
"Why is Prince singing my song?" You turned to your band who were all equally as befuddled as you, stammering different 'I don't know's.'
The from the edge of the limo came the voice you dreaded hearing most.
"Sold it. He heard it in the booth and offered you a few million for the rights. I said yes." Kelsey huffed past a cigar.
"You sold my song to-" You began to see red when the ride stopped and your manager interrupted you, pushing you to get out and onto the stage. Your band couldn't help. They were being corralled all the same. Was this life even yours anymore? It seemed every move you made was orchestrated and modified by the manager you'd mistakenly given too much power too.
By then, the refuge you found on stage began to feel like the same old trap. Kelsey started deciding your set lists. And the first night of three at Maddison square garden, your first stop of the USA leg of the tour; you changed up what had been written down on a whim. Because the crowd was chanting for a number from your very first album. And who were you to deny them that?
Apparently, according to your manager, the devil incarnate. 
Kelsey lost his shit on you in the limo on the way to CBGBS, all for changing the fucking setlist. Your fucking setlist. Zed, bless him, tried to speak up in defense of the situation. But his arguments were shut down soon as Kelsey could form a word.
Thank God the club was in sight.
///
CBGB's 1986 -
Lou Reed gave your drummer a little blue pill. Zed said he felt free for the first time maybe ever. You found this out after the guy stole another little blue pill for you. It went down well with whiskey. Then Kelsey started to kill your buzz, being all charming and nice in front of strangers. And that was the most upsetting part of all. Because he was such a dick. And you hated to see anyone believing otherwise.
And because he couldn't help but pick apart your every move, he tried to stop you from ordering a sixth vodka.
"You've made my life hell. This is the only way to cope." You pointed.
"I've made you rich and famous, dear, you may be drunk but you're not that stupid." Kelsey droned in that stupid fucking accent.
"You sold my song to fucking Prince! You didn't even tell me. God knows you'd never ask first but you didn't even mention it! Where is the money for that transaction, huh? Already snuffed up your nose?"
"Maybe." Kelsey boasted, snatching your vodka from your grasp.
"You change my set lists. You deny me meals. You force me to fall in love with a man to make the press happy, to keep your name fucking shinny!" You were seething as you yanked back the glass and chucked it to the ground, glass shattering at your feet. Kelsey only chuckled, a dark low rumble that opened the pit in your stomach where fear and rage lived.
"I only told you to stay married to him darlin', you didn't have to suck him off and pout as he left, that's your own idiocy." Your manager loomed over you, his smoke scented breath blowing in your face. You were jabbing a finger into his chest and calling him a bloodsucking cunt as his smile twisted into a snarl.
By that point Ambrose and Izzy were pulling you and Kelsey back from each other. You yelled for your bassist to let you go, to let you keep calling out your manager for all the shit he kept pulling.
"You know that's a really bad idea. Go find Zed. He's been looking for you." Izzy's hold on you was barely a grasp but you still yanked your arms away, pissed. You grumbled away from the tension filled situation and pushed passed the crowd cheering on Blondie to find your drummer leaned against the back wall, all buddy buddy with Lou Reed, by then.
"Perfect timing, Mrs. Munson. I was just going to invite you and your drummer here to the Chealsea." Your ears rang as Lou Reed waved you and Zed along. On your walk behind the bleach blonde songwriter, your drummer revealed he'd been gifted a whole giant bottle of those little blue pills for the pair of you to survive off of the rest of the tour. Anything to dull the ache.
///
Chealsea Hotel 1986 -
The clock on the dimly lit hallway wall read four in the morning. There was a faint yet ever-present ringing in your ear. There were people packed into every room on this floor, bodies were scattered through the halls, waiting their turn for entry to a room. Or impatiently having a go at each other between potted plants and elevator doors. Someone grabbed you, they were crying and saying they loved you. They were begging you to sing a song as you shrugged them off and told them maybe next time.
"Too many people." You suddenly realized, gripping onto your drummer's forearm. He stalled and turned back to understand what you were saying. Lou Reed was long gone, had been since you'd arrived here however long ago.
You announced that you were headed down to the lobby and began stepping through the maze of strangers, breathing in their smoke and wondering how time was moving so fast. Had thirty minutes really already passed on your journey through this weird gathering?
Down at the front desk, workers smiles were wide as you glided up to the counter. If anyone was ahead of you, you'd cut them. Maybe they had let you. They usually did.
"Do you have any available rooms?" You smiled hopefully. For you, surely they would. For you, they had too. You couldn't be sure you could get back to the place Kelsey had you staying at. And you were in desperate need of some space that didn't feel completely suffocated by responsibility. The women at the front desk told you there were opening but none of the more accommodating rooms for guests as elite as yourself were available. You assured her you didn't care if it was a closet with pillows for a bed so long as you had a place to crash. With in minutes you were being handed a room key.
On your way to the tenth floor, Zed appeared again, this time with company. Ambrose and Kelsey were having a spat, and your drummer was being cornered with his hands up. You saw your guitarist notice you and that was enough to send you sprinting past them to get to the room you booked. Your manager started to call after you, demanding you stop. But you were too quick. You locked yourself into a perfectly adequate room, with a bed, a balcony and a small additional bathroom. This was more than enough. But it wasn't long before your crew was pounding at the door.
"You can't stay here. I've got two entire floors of the Marriot booked just for you, your royal fucking highness." Kelsey spat on the other side of the wooden door.
"Stop fucking talking to me like that!" You hollered back, unzipping your boots and tossing them against the door. God you could really go for another one of those little blue pills.
"Come on, please let's just go." You heard Ambrose whine like an impatient kid brother.
"Fuck you too!" You called back, angry that everyone surrounding you went along with Kelsey's bullshit. You knew they had to, to survive. But you were ready to start fighting against it. You heard the men bickering beyond your seclusion, Kelsey yelling at Zed to have a go at demanding you leave the room. He argued back that he wasn't going to beat on the door like a maniac, but he would try and talk to you like a human being, if they so insisted. His knock was polite. He had more of those little blue pills. You let him in.
Your drummer eased into the room as you slammed the door in the other's faces. That didn't stop your manager from shouting still, demanding you and Zed leave right that moment. Demanding Zed better not be a fucking idiot and just drag you out of there. Your drummer only shook his head and rose a hand to nudge you away from the door you stood seething in front of. He guided you to the far corner of the bed closest to the balcony. He opened the doors, letting in fresh autumn air.
"Don't listen to them." He said in a hush, hunkering down at your side, hands clasped between his knees.
"Well, aren't you gonna try and talk me out of here?"
"No. I think if we stay quiet, they'll leave. And maybe we can have one night of fucking peace." Zed laughed hopelessly as one of them conditioned to pound on the locked door. You sat, biting back tears.
"You're the only one who has checked up on me this whole time. I know the others don't want to cross Kelsey. But none of the rest of the band has even like, said good morning to me. Or sat next to me at lunch. Izzy will share lyrics on plane rides. Ambrose will thank me for rolling up his joints. But then they fuck off to the green room or the dinning hall with all the groupies. I've never expected us all to be best fucking buddies. But I've never felt so alone Zed."
You vented, choking back the ever-growing lump in your throat. Your drummer unclasped his hand and placed his palm on your knee as he shook his low hung head.
"And," You went on, unable to stop now that your expression had started. "Eddie can't call. He's in rehab. Even if he wasn't it's not like we're really married."
"What?" Zed turned, confused.
"Eddie's getting sober somewhere in the middle of nowhere California. And our marriage is a lie. Kelsey made us sign a contract. We're not married. It's all for show. My whole fucking career is all for show at this point. I'm Kelsey's little puppet and every time I try to cut the strings, I just end up tangled up in them."
"He's such a fucking devil." Zed frowned. "Once this tour is over..." You watched your drummer search for his next words. "I don't even know. But none of us should let him keep this shit up."
The banging at the door started again. Zed held a finger to his lips, stopping you from speaking. After a moment in the faintest whisper, you could muster you asked your drummer for another one of those pills from Lou Reed.
He pulled the bottle from his brown leather coat, and portioned you out two. You started to reach for both when he quirked a brow.
"Sorry." You grinned, guilty. Zed took the other pill and his jacket off, tossing the garment and the bottle to the corner.
"So, is that why Eddie has been so sloppy with being seen with so many girls, last month? You two really aren't a thing at all?"
"I guess." You sighed. "I thought we were something. I think he's, bare minimum, a friend. But everything else is just for show." You realized, recalling the tabloids recent write up about Eddies much too public fling with a girl from the crowd of his latest concert. You couldn't pretend that didn't hurt.
"I feel like no one is on my side." You struggled to hide the tears that pooled in your eyes, desperate for what you took to kick in already.
"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" He seemed concerned about however you may answer. And you realized that he was here. And that he did care. And that despite being caught up in the same bullshit as you, he was giving you all the space and time to talk about it.
You leaned in, sniffling back your crocodile tears as that faint ringing in your ears began to grow a little miraculously louder. You hugged your drummer and thanked him for listening and sitting in here and for not talking you out of going anywhere else. He let a calloused hand pet back your hair and reminded you that he was hiding away all the same. Trauma bonding.
"Can I say something?" Zed asked as you pulled away. You nodded.
"I kind of want to kiss you. But not like out of love. I think it's the pills. And the pent-up stress. And the fact that you get it. And I trust you." He shrugged and you took in every word. "Do you want me to leave now? I know that's probably the last thing you-"
"No, it's okay." You insisted, reaching out to rest a hand on the guy's thigh. He let his brow push together. His silvery eyes studied yours. He wasn't your type at all. Shaggy blonde, too toned drummer. But he was a good friend. And that was more than you could ask for at this point. "Wanna blow off some steam?"
"Seeing as how you're not actually married, I'm okay with it." Zed laughed a little, letting you be the one to make the first move. You kissed him and blocked out every thought that popped up of Eddie, and every wish that you were desperate to be kissing him instead.
Zed was warm and patient and really good with his hands. He asked over and over if what you were doing was okay. He fucked you three times by the time the clock read six in the morning. Then he helped you get dressed and turned over to give you space to sleep beside him in the full-sized mattress.
Your early morning freedom was interrupted by lunch time when Kelsey boomed at the door. He gave the pair of you a scolding through his teeth as you passed through the Chealsea, and really reamed into the pair of you on the limo ride to the tour bus. You'd be traveling to New Jersey, down to North Carolina, then down to Georgia and Florida, back up and across most the states from there. It was a daunting schedule to look ahead to after traveling so much of Europe already. And to know you weren't able to enjoy any of it at all, being under such restrictive control.
///
The next four shows were a blur. You were taking a trio of those little blue pills before every sound check. Whatever your manager shouted in your ear went out the other until the next day. You let time pass you by as you left your heart and soul on stage, using each show as some kind of therapy, best you could. And somehow, without discussing it at all, you and Zed had made a habit out of sneaking into each other's rooms each night. You used each other's sex to pacify the horrors of the tour. And that much you discussed. It was mutually agreed that no feelings could be born from the habit, and if they were it would have to stop. Your hook ups were strictly medicinal. Zed was your supplier, after all.
Ambrose caught on, and so had the others, you were certain. But your guitarist had spotted you in Zeds room one late night when he'd come knocking in search of some cocaine.
"Really, you two? How does Mr. Munson feel about that?"
"I'm sure you'd like to know. Get the fuck out of here." Your drummer slammed the door in his face. But his question haunted you for days after he asked. How would Eddie feel? Would he care at all? Would he be glad you found someone to bone after trying to shag him a time or two to no avail? Would he be pissed you were being sloppy? Would he be pissed if you accused him of being sloppy too? Would he be pissed if he knew how much you missed him?
And God how you really missed Eddie. How you hated catching glimpses of your fake ass wedding ring. How you wished you'd never left Hawaii.
///
Chicago 1986 -
The crowd stretched for miles; the open green field packed with fans far as the eye could see. The wind was welcome as its chill cooled you from the heat of the stage lights. The show was going as well as it could. Your band was in sync. You didn't even mind how Kelsey had organized the set list. Something was bound to piss you off soon, since nothing had yet. You considered this as you ran off stage during Ambrose' guitar solo, reaching for a bottle of water and a shot of something stronger.
Then the unthinkable. It was like the first time you met. You looked up and Eddie Munson was standing before you, eyes a little clearer than ever, hair longer too.
"You're looking good out there!" He smiled and shouted past the music.
"Eddie?" You grinned, baffled by his very sudden and unexpected appearance. Before he could explain himself, Kelsey nudged his way between the pair of you.
"Good! You're here! How's about a song or two?" Your manager smiled to Eddie, whose face grew concerned.
"Oh, no. I'm just here to see my w-"
"When Ambrose runs back, he'll trade off with you. Just two songs. No better way to promote the new album!"
"This is their show, not mine. I really don't want-"
"Ambrose!" Kelsey waved as your guitarist skipped side stage after his solo. Izzy was sauntering on to take his turn in the spotlight now. "Eddie is gonna take your spot for the rest of the show."
"You said only two songs!" You rang with worry. Why was this evil Brit so dead set on causing such chaos? Kelsey looked to you with a glare, ripped the bottle of water from your hand and pushed you toward the stage before going on to force Ambrose custom flying V onto Eddie.
The ringing in your ear that those little blue pills brought on was beginning to fade away. The audiences' roars dulled your senses now. You waved at them as you hurried to tell Izzy there was a change of plans and you'd only be playing songs from the new album now. The first five tracks, then the hit single, you decided in a hurry, telling him to pass the info onto Zed.
"Okay Chicago!" You breathed into your mic. "You're about to be just as surprised as I am!"
Eddie's entrance toward center stage caused the crowd to react so loudly it felt as though an earthquake could have been coaxed from the ruckus. You caught a glimpse of Ambrose at the side of the stage, throwing a fit, before turning to cue Zed to start the next song. He'd been giving the right info, playing the beat to the song you decided. You clued Eddie in, too, before taking centre stage once more and doing the best you could to carry on this concert without having a mental break down.
It was good to see Eddie. But the pair of you had a lot left unsaid. It was a sick joke, being forced to sing the songs you wrote with him, into the same microphone now. To be looking right in his big brown eyes, to feel his exhales, to be stupidly intoxicated by his presence after months, after no contact, after feeling so abandoned and hurt, even if that wasn't entirely his fault.
The four of you played a decent show, and the sold-out festival crowd was in a frenzy by the encore. You sang with Eddie and looked right at him. He kissed your cheek as Zed dragged out the beats that ended the set. But your phantom husband had never felt further away.
There was no time to talk still as your band was corralled into separate interviews and congratulations from festival promoters. Eddie was the most sought-after entity, of course. Not only was his appearance on your set a surprise but it was the first time he'd been seen out in months since disappearing to rehab. You weren't sure what excuse he gave the press this time. You couldn't quiet hear the answers he was giving journalists now, as you rushed toward the green room showers.
You found Zed leaving there and asked him for more pills, as big a handful as he'd give you. He was hesitant, but you promised it was just so you wouldn't have to track him down for more later. The blonde was worn down, dumping a few into your palm as you hurried to get cleaned up.
You knew your time was limited in the green room's shower, and you knew the night ahead was a long one. There were three more official interviews with festival promoters to complete, and a VIP tent to make an appearance in, all while Iron Maiden played the final set of the evening. You realized, as you washed the sweat from your back, that you didn't know if Eddie would still be there when you came out of the room. Or if he'd be lingering close by the rest of the evening. Or if you two were going to have time for a real discussion. So, under stress from every angle, you broke your promise to Zed and downed the handful of pills at once.
And then you were off, dressed in a new silk slip and pre torn tights, sprinting down the hall to make it to the press tent in time. Outside, Kelsey was off in the distance, shmoozing some promoters. Izzy was flirting with Lita Ford by the craft table. And you were scurrying between tour busses as dusk started to set in. Iron Maiden hadn't yet started their set. And on the steps near your tour bus, you found the rest of your band, and Eddie, sharing beers. Oh how fucking lovely.
"You've got to be fucking joking." You stood before Eddie, seething, rage coursing through your nervous system. He knew exactly what you were on about, shifting his weight as his lithe expression turned pale. Eddie shifted his weight and kept the bottle in his grasp close to his chest. You almost couldn't believe he was choosing to be so dumb right now. Led by anger, you reached out to grab the beer from Eddie's grasp. He let you rip it from his fingers and avoided the way your eyes bore into his very being. 
The boys at his side were quiet until Ambrose let out a low whistle, mentioning that he would run and get Eddie a third drink. A third. Meaning he'd had another before now. Meaning that he was acting way dumber than you ever fathomed he was capable of.
Suddenly it was all too much. As each boy noticed watch you turn red from outrage, it was like every emotion you'd suppressed in the past handful of months broke past the seal and your world began to spin. Yeah... maybe you should have heeded Zed's worry.
"Shit." You groaned, feeling your chest tighten. You dropped the bottle, rushed past the group and grabbed at the door of your traveling home. Thank God, no one was inside. Your sprint to the loo was just in time as you began to vomit. You cried, and cursed, and got sick again and wondered why nothing felt good anymore. Even the shit that used to keep the bad feelings at bay was back firing now.
You heard the group of guys just outside the door you left swung open, wondering what just happened to you. Ambrose far off muffled voice was unmistakable, "Come on, Eddie. I'll get you more beer. Let Zed deal with her sorry ass. He's been pretty good at filling your shoes, ya know?"  
Nausea rushed over you, shutting off the rest of your senses. You stayed slumped on the little loo floor, the room was small enough that your feet stuck out into the hall. Then you heard the door shut. And the sound of heavy boots clucking toward you.
"Are you wasted?" Eddie wondered. You looked up to him, standing with his fists balled up, his fingers working nervously at each palm. His dark brows were furrowed, and his speech was ever so slightly slurred.
"Are you wasted?" You shot back, still so beyond pissed off at him.
"I told you I was a recovering fuck up. Not a fully rehabilitated one." The guy reminded with a small humorless laugh.
"Why are you here?" You whimpered, resting your head against the lid of the toilet, the latter half of your sentence, a mumble.
"I'm here to see you, why the fuck else would I be? I didn't want to play the last thirty minutes of your damn set. I wanted to see you! It's been months you know?" Eddie shot back. It had been a long set of days since you'd had the pleasure of hearing the guys voice. Why did his return have to leave you feeling so fucking awful? Why didn't you stop all this shit from playing out when you had the chance? Crumble up that dumb ass contract in front of Kelsey and everyone. If only you could've saved yourself this world of hurt.
"And whose fault is that?" You asked through a whine, feeling sick all over again.
"Don't you dare put all the blame on me. I know I fucked up. I'll own that. But you're the one who pushed me away from the beginning. You told me you didn't want a real connection with me. I was willing to actually fall in love with you. And newsflash. I am actually in love with you!" Eddie's voice was growing firmer with each word he spoke. "I'm in deep fucking disgusting love with you. And you told me you didn't want that. So, I kept my fucking distance."
"I find that hard to believe." You rang through your teeth, sitting up a little. "You told me you couldn't sleep with me again because you'd fall too much in love or whatever the fuck. That hasn't stopped you from sleeping with what, three, four groupies since I left for tour? In deep disgusting love with every single one of them, are ya?"
"Of course not." Eddie waved as if it were obvious. "Those were drunken flings. Based on lust. I was already head over heels with you when you shagged me in the hot tub. I knew I'd only fall more. And since you said you weren't looking for love I set a fucking boundary. To please you!"
"Well I do love you! I don't fucking want to, but I do! I don't want any of this shit. I don't want our bullshit marriage. I don't want to be on this fucked up tour. I want to quit this shitty fucking job, oh God-"
You caught a glimpse of Eddie's face before you started to lose your lunch all over again. His eyes were wide, his jaw was slacked, his head shook in disbelief. And then what felt like a life time passed as your body writhed in agony.
"What did you take?" Eddie demanded to know.
"I don't know." You lied.
"Bullshit! What did you fucking take?" Eddie raised his voice as you started to sob.
"Zed's pills. Please don't yell at me!" You responded past tears and waves of nausea.
"I'm sorry." Eddie heaved, and you could tell he meant it and that made you cry harder. You heard his boots stomp away as you lost your fucking mind between tears and sick. You heard the door swing open. You heard Eddie say, "Get a medic in here, you son of a bitch." And you just knew he was talking to Zed, and you imagined the poor drummer lingering worriedly near enough the bus door to be there when Eddie opened it. The dreamy eyed guitarist was back in the room and kneeling at your side to comfort you while you both waited for someone to come and help.
You started to apologize for what exactly you weren't sure yet. Eddie dismissed you and said you could talk more later tonight. And you realized that meant he was staying. And that made you feel the smallest bit better.
When the medic came, he assumed you'd already vomited up most of the pills, but insisted you to come to the emergency tent for a while. You worried instantly, knowing Kelsey would blow a gasket. The rest of the band could carry on perfectly suitable interviews without you, but you knew there'd be hell to pay. Eddie sat with you, listened to the medics with you, gave you his jacket as the night grew cold. Then he walked you toward the car that the doctors called for you, insisting you get to a bed and rest as long as you could. He slid in the other side of the cab and let you slump against his shoulder the whole ride to whatever hotel you were staying in that night.
///
As Eddie walked you toward the sanctuary that was this evening's quiet hotel suite, the elevator doors chimed down the hall.
"You fucked up tonight beyond your wildest imagination!" Your managers shouts were more irate than you'd ever heard them. But you were almost too exhausted to care. Only three steps away from your room. Stubborn still, you couldn't help but turn to fight back.
Kelsey was red faced and rambling so viciously that the assistant that had followed him up was taking a step back with apparent concern. Around this time, the elevator dinged again, revealing Izzy and a group of strangers hanging off his arm.
"This is coming out of your paycheck! Do you realize that? You can't just do whatever pleases you!" Your manager raved.
"Your threats are getting boring." You stated simply, lazy eyed, hoping your lackluster engagement to this man's tirade would sting his ego.
"It's not a threat, it's a fucking promise. Have you forgotten I control every aspect of your sorry little life?"
"Don't fucking talk to her like that man." Eddie snapped, unable to cope with this nonsense any longer.
"This conversation doesn't fucking concern you," Kelsey, red faced and practically foaming at the mouth, shoved a hand to your fake husband's chest. Eddies back hit the door of the room you'd been trying to enter with a thud. He stayed a bit stunned, letting a shocked grin grow under his furrowed brow. But your composure was lost by then. You couldn't help but to begin to lose your mind.
"You absolute twat!" You shouted; lunging toward your manager who was significantly taller and was holding a stance like a boxer who was prepared to demolish his opponent. All hell broke loose. You were barely able to land a swing to Kelsey's iron build when his assistant moved to block you from becoming more physical. Izzy had rushed to involve himself by then too, much to the shock of the friends he'd brought along- who stood at the end of the hall in awe.
"You're all bark and no bite, just like your pathetic excuse of a husband." Kelsey tried to squirm away from the way your coworkers were backing him up. Eddie was simultaneously placing the hotel room key you'd given him back in your hand and motioning you to unlock the door, distracting you from escalating the situation further.
"I know better than to swing back. We're done here." Eddie let out a huff of a humorless laugh and shrugged his shoulders back in place. You got the door open just in time and let Eddie nudge you into the room first. Kelsey's grumbled curses were drowned out when your pretend husband shut and locked the pair of you in; and a deafening silence surprised you when you were only minutes ago seeking out the refuge of quiet you knew would be here.
You stood in the middle of the room, trying to catch your breath from getting so worked up. But the adrenaline that coursed through your system raged on and the overwhelm that had dawned over you in the tour bus was still shading your every thought.
"I want to go home." You whimpered. But that's not what you really meant. You'd never felt at home in the house you'd lived in the past four years. The only place you'd ever really felt at ease was Hawaii. Was that one house. Was with Eddie. But you couldn't say all that now.
You realized you were crying again when the man on your mind was suddenly standing before you and pulling you too his chest for an embrace.
"I'm so sorry. You wrote in your letters that this tour was awful but now I see they're worse than that. We've gotta get you away from this crazy dude." Eddie soothed, letting his hand brush over the back of your hair while holding you closer with the other all the while. You sank into his embrace for a moment longer before pulling away to sniffle and speak more clearly.
"He- he has me wrapped up in so many contracts. Half of which I don't even know the full extent of because he's so tricky. I don't even know where to begin." You let out a shaky breath as Eddie listened. "He's slowly killing me. He sold my music to Prince. Did you know that? He writes my set lists. He times my meals. I'm supposed to be living the dream, but it feels much more like a nightmare." You groaned, hanging your head in your hands.
"He what?" Eddie asked, alarmed. You knew Kelsey was pulling fucked up shit, but in the midst of it all, it seemed all too impossible to retaliate against. The man you'd been missing was standing before you now, reaching out a hand to brush his fingers against your wrist. Eddie's hand stroked toward your shoulder as you wiped your eyes and took a deep breath in.
"He also threatened me into pretending to marry this really cool guy. Who I'm really in love with now. But I'm so scared this guy'll never want to really be with me. And when our contract is up, he'll be free to fall for someone without being obliged."
Eddie watched as you spoke, biting into a frown that drooped lower still.
"You're gonna make me cry." Eddie breathed a laugh through his nose as a sheen covered his big brown eyes, and his hands found either side of your face.
"Cryin' because you know I'm right? Or cryin' because you know I'm wrong?" You dared to ask, fearful all the while your heart really couldn't take it if he turned you down now.
"Are you crazy? What part of 'I've loved you since the Hawaiian hot tub' don't you understand?"
Bitting back a smile, you took a beat to look into Eddie's dark dreamy eyes. Your brain was almost to fogged by the chaos of the day to fully comprehend the conversation you were having right now. But your heart seemed to understand, as it settled and warmed within you.
"You sobered up fast, huh?" You joked, but not really, as your eyes focused back and forth between his.
"I don't know why it's so hard. Maybe I need longer than three months in rehab. God it's so embarrassing."
But you got it. This lifestyle wasn't for the tender soul. But a tender soul always made the best art. And self-medication was the quickest method to suppressing the madness.
"Hey," You shook your head, catching Eddies eye. "No more talking about all this shit tonight. We'll figure it out soon enough, won't we?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I hope so." Eddie nodded, sucking in a breath and drawing out its release. "Come on then... let me take care of you for once."
Eddie dragged you into the bathroom, filled up the tub and dimmed the lights. He joined you in the water and washed your hair and kissed your shoulders. He held you close enough to feel his heart beating. He dried you off and helped you slip into your pj's and joined you in bed for what you realized was the very first time. It was early by rockstar standards. Only ten. Still early enough to catch a special on the telly, the perfect white noise that sent you drifting off in Eddie's arms. And just before sleep, you felt the peace of belonging you'd wished for when you dreamed of home.
///
The next morning you were awoken by a cart of food being pulled in by the wild haired guitarist.
"Didn't mean to wake you, sorry love. Food can wait if you're still tired."
"Don't you have a show to play or an interview to film or anything? How are you still here?" You wondered, staying cocooned under the duvet.
"I've got nothing. I was actually going to ask if you minded me staying a few nights on tour with you. We are still contractually wed. But more importantly I really fucking missed you, ya know?"
"Do you really want to stay? It's no fun."
Just as Eddie started to answer, the door to your room that had been unlocked from Eddie's breakfast delivery, swung open. Kelsey barged in, rolled up papers in hand. You assumed they were the doctor's notes left from last night. They'd ordered you to a day of rest.
"You're one lucky fucker, you know that? You might get to be babied today but you're making up the interviews I had to cancel before we leave at six tomorrow morning."
"What are you gonna do Kelsey, drag me out of fucking bed?" You sat up and spat right at the guy. "I'm not some fucking pet you can leash up and show off. I'm a person! With a soul! I guess I can see why that's hard for you to comprehend, being the leach you are."
"You need to leave. Don't come back today. I will call security if you do." Eddie walked towards Kelsey, beginning to back him out of the room. The manager laughed lowly.
"Well aren't you two cute? Treacherous nobodies." Kelsey tossed the rolled-up papers at you before turned to leave.
"What a fucking prick." Eddie growled, picking up the papers that had floated each and every direction. He tossed them on the desk and moved to sit on the bed at your side.
"So what'll it be? Pancakes? Or back to resting?" The guy reached out a hand to brush a strand of hair from your face. Just as you grinned and opened your mouth to answer there was another persistent knock at the door.
"It never ends!" Eddie chimed.
"I told you it's no fun here." You shrugged pointedly. "Will you answer again?" You were gonna choose going back to sleep, if the fates would allow. Your body ached from its efforts of violent sick the night before. Your mind ached from exploding under the pressure of it all, last night.
"Oh, hi." Eddie opened the door to Zed. His hair was mused. He was clad in only a robe and boxers. And he held a paper in his hand.
"Was Kelsey just here?" The drummer looked anxiously from Eddie to you, back to Eddie.
"Yeah, why?" Eddie assured, seemingly worried.
"Did he leave you papers? Because it's our bank statements. And they're way fucking wrong, at least on my end." Zed held up his bluish tinted sheet that looked just like the one sitting on the table of your room. You didn't feel very tired anymore. You rushed to stand, grabbing the document and scanning the words and numbers on the page.
"There are hundreds missing. Maybe more. And it's all charged under 'miscellaneous funds.' What the fuck is this?" You waved the page before both boys, alarm bells whirring in your head. When Kelsey threatened to pull from your paycheck he wasn't kidding.
"We've had almost mirrored spending habits as the month before yet more is being taken out this time?" Zed shuffled documents until he reveled last month's invoice, pointing out the differences.
"My lawyers are Kelsey's lawyers. What should I do?"
"I'm gonna go to the lobby and call Brooke. I've just had an idea that should hopefully help you all." Eddie noted in a hurry. He nodded to you and brushed past Zed on a sudden mission.
"Fuck dude. It's like, never ending." You wanted to cry but were probably too dehydrated to produce tears at this point.
"I'm going to make sure the others know but..." Zed spoke, shifting his weight in the doorway. "Are you okay?"
"I will be, I think. I don't know. Probably no more little blue pills, yeah?"
"Oh, I already flushed em." Zed assured. "And I assume I won't be getting any more late-night visits either?" The drummer scratched the back of his head and looked to you like a sad little puppy. He wasn't in love with you. And you had nary a feeling for him. But the pair of you had found comfort in your routine hookups.
"I don't know. It's not like Eddie and I have anything officially going on. But I can promise you, you'll be the first to know when I've got my shit figured out, yeah?"
Zed nodded and told you to get back to bed, and thanked you for having a meltdown grand enough to allow everyone else a day off too. You shot him a middle finger and chuckled your way back under the hotel sheets.
///
Kansas 1986 -
Eddie hadn't left your side since Chicago. The last night you spent there he'd called Brooke and asked her to sneak into Kelsey's office in L.A. to go through his files. The brave soul did just that, and found a fax Kelsey had sent to himself of a new contract where he forged the bands signatures and decided to charge you each more monthly. Brooke called you in Detroit and set you up with some well renowned lawyers. You had big plans to fuck Kelsey's shit up after the tour. There were only seven shows left. And you weren't in the business of disappointing your fans.
Kansas was pretty beautiful, the sun shone, your plans were coming together, Eddie spent a lot of time sober and reading a paper back with his head in your lap. Your tour bus pulled into the finest hotel available. You were an entire day ahead of schedule. And there was nothing to do with it.
"Let's go to dinner some place nice, no late-night pub. Wanna?"  Eddie coaxed, crash landing to sit on the edge of this weekends bed. You watched him in his own amusement, grinning as the mattress continued to spring. 
"Sure, that sounds like a nice change of pace." It wasn't to say that you'd been starved of fine dining experiences on this tour. But the past few days had been nonstop with no time to relish or relax outside of the tour bus.
Before you knew it you were dressed to the nines, hanging off of Eddies arm as he escorted you out of the back of the resort where your limo waited. Unsure where exactly you headed, Eddie had taken care of asking the front desk for the nicest eatery nearby. 
A castle like building with French style cuisine it was. Skipping ahead of reservations and smiling politely to wait staff, you wound up settled comfortably in a leather booth, sipping a lemonade and staring at Eddie. He leaned both elbows on his side of the table and stared right back at you.  
"Thanks. For dinner. And for staying on the road with me. And for... well everything I guess."
"It's been truly the least I could do. You shouldn't be saying thanks at all. I should be saying sorry for how much of an embarrassment I've been to you, like, since the dawn of our meeting." Eddie spoke up, twirling the straw in his soda.
"Don't start that-" You tried to stop his groveling, shaking your head.
"I am sorry. We agreed to this marriage to help each other's image, more or less. And I've been parading around like a fool."
"Maybe. But you also got us a trip to Hawaii that changed my life a little. And you're here with me now. You've been better to me than you give yourself credit for." You grinned, searching Eddies deep wide eyes. He squinted as if to consider the weight of your words. He let the chatter of the atmosphere grow louder as silence settled in the space between you. One sip of your drink. Two. Three.
"So, what... how..." Eddie started, struggling to choose his words until he just came right out with it. "Do you really love me?"
"I really do." You nodded, letting your head bob more assuredly as you thought on your statement. "I'm not sure when it happened but I can promise you, you'll break my heart when you leave."
"Well, I don't want to leave." Eddie shook his head, seemingly worried, like he was about to be swept off into a void. "I don't want to leave you. I know I have to go back to L.A. soon but, that's not what we're talking about here."
"It's not." 
Just then, your kind waitress breezed by, offering refills and desserts. You declined both and decided to call it a night, hoping to get some proper beauty sleep in since you had a night free enough to do so. The pair of you breezed out of the restaurant, flashing smiles to the fans who'd gathered outside of the business after learning you were dining inside. You shouldered your way into the limo without too much fuss, and then turned to find Eddie settling at your side. 
And when he looked back at you, it was like the whole world made sense. It baffled you. Here in the middle of America, without a single prompt, it felt like your world just shifted on its axis all because of the smile that reached Eddie's eyes when they locked on yours. Maybe it was the effects of a proper meal settling in after probably too long without one. Or maybe the tour had finally driven you mad beyond comprehension.
But by the time you got back to the hotel, you weren't so naive. You realized that the wall you'd built up that guarded your heart from this man had finally crumbled, the last brick blown over after your conversation at dinner. 
"Eddie-"
Like a mind reader or a braver soul, the man in question spun around from locking the hotel door to grab your face and kiss you. And you got it then. You got why he couldn't have done this with you, if he'd been half as in love with you as you were with him right in this moment. You understood why it would have wrecked him. But you got to kiss him now, letting your soul settle as he kissed you back.
It was as if you'd never done this before. With Eddie or anyone. A carnal desperation washed over you, now that the waiting was over. Your hands traced the inside of Eddie's leather jacket, falling until they reached his belt. As your fingers started to undo the thing, Eddie pushed them away. Oh no, he was about to stop you again, wasn't he? 
"We have all night." Eddie explained, saving your heart from sinking to your stomach. "Slow?"
"Yeah, I like that idea." You smiled, letting Eddie gaze at you through hooded eyes, pressing his smile to your cheek for a kiss. He let his lips wander from your jaw to your neck as his hands trailed from your sides to your back. 
This was all you'd ever wanted from him. This was more than you'd ever let yourself have with him. His body firm against yours. His heart on the table. God, you'd nearly forgotten you were in the midst of a tour that made you nearly consider quitting this business entirely. You'd nearly forgotten you'd ever been hurt at all. 
You simply soaked up the way Eddie peeled off your layers one at a time, taking forever to do so. He laid you down and let you rip away his shirt. He smoothed his hands over your skin and let you tangle your fingers in his hair. 
Dusk cast through the curtains, coloring the room a dull purple. Eddie marveled at the beauty of the evening and moved his kisses down your stomach. Eventually his lips met the middle of you and his kisses were unrelenting. As tortuously slow as he'd taken his time to wind up between your legs, he made up for by working you up into a frenzy in the matter of seconds. And then he claimed he had only just begun; Eddie announced his plan to make you come undone as many times as he could muster before you were each too tired to go on.
He kept his word, sending stars into your vision over and over as the night turned black. You returned every favor, dragging out your efforts to drive Eddie wild until he absolutely couldn't stand it any longer. When it came time for the guy to press himself all the way into you, overwhelming peace filled your heart so full it frightened you. You were almost moved to tears by how in utter fucking love with Eddie Munson you were. Unsure how else to express those profound emotions in a time like now; you let your jaw slack and your breath catch as the weight of these intense feelings and realizations wracked your body and soul. 
Eddie's eyes were focusing on yours then, and with a smile he sighed, "I know." And somehow, you believed that he somehow truly did have an understanding of the exact feeling you struggled to articulate. Still, you barely got to relish the way his hips rocked into yours before he was losing composure. But still, it was beautiful to watch Eddie reach his peak, straining against you. Because of you.
Eddie was crashing at your side, spent and sleepy and so fucking beautiful. 
///
The next morning came too soon. You knew last night was a one off, for now. You knew there were days that waited just ahead that demanded attention you worried you didn't have patience for. You knew you needed to hold onto last night for all it was worth, when morning came.
Eddie woke up, slinging an arm surer around your middle, groaning about not wanting to ever get up. You chuckled and shifted your weight to sit up ever so slightly. You had time left to laze, but not much. So you knew your question needed to be asked right away. 
"Eddie." You whispered, grabbing the hand he left splayed across your stomach, bringing his knuckles to your lips. The guy lifted his mussed head of hair and let his dark eyes flutter to meet yours. He propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his own lips to your shoulder.
"Eddie... What are we doing? What happens now?"
"I want something real with you." Eddie lifted his face to find yours. He was smiling at first but it faltered before he spoke up again. "But I think we need to figure out our shit first. Let our dumbass contract end. Get you through this tour and away from Kelsey. Get myself off the fuckin' bottle. Then maybe we can live life together instead of just trying to survive it."
"I see." You mulled over his statement, still holding his knuckles in your grasp.
"All that to say I want to see you all the time. I want this with you all the time. But I don't want to make you promises I'm afraid I'll break. I meant what I said about staying in rehab longer than three months, this time."
"Is that why you're going back to L.A.?"
"I already asked Brooke to find me a residency." The announcement was a happy one. But it meant his leaving was soon and it meant his absence would be significant. It meant mornings in sheets and sunlight were further away than you'd recently hopped.
"Can I come visit you?"
"I don't think I could fully heal if you didn't."
///
Topeka wasn't the most glamourous city. But deep in the heart of the Midwest, the wildest shit seemed to be going down. Your green room was full of groupies, clowns, bikers, freaks of all kinds. There was probably nothing left to do in the middle of tornado alley than to go a little crazy.
Maybe that's why you weren't surprised when you found Eddie backstage. Maybe that's why you weren't disappointed. Maybe that's why you didn't stop Eddie when he let some pink haired punk rocker pour a shot down his throat. 
But then he saw you and he smiled. He fucking smiled. And you couldn't help but let outrage burst from your being at that point. Marching through the crowd, you plunged a hand out to grab Eddie's sleeve, yanking him away from the madness. All around you people were laughing and yammering and singing, lost in their own plots. Eddie wasn't laughing anymore. He wasn't smiling. He was protesting as you dragged him behind you, around the corner toward a row of backstage showers. Secluded in the tiled room, you let go and turned to face him, Eddie didn't even look like himself. His eyes were glassed over, his demeanor barely held together.
"What the fuck?" You yelled. "Just because you have a room booked at rehab doesn't mean you get a free bender. Stop trying to kill yourself!"
"I- thinking..." Eddie rose a finger, pointing your way before he huffed a small curse, losing his balance, staggering toward the wall.
"You're a fucking mess. I don't even know what to do." You wanted to cry, you wanted to yell at him until he sobered the fuck up and promised to stop this bullshit forever. For good. He stayed leaning against the wall, furrowing his brow, closing his eyes as a you shouted his way.
"You're not the only one this shit is hard for!" Eddie slurred back, opening his eyes and gesturing your way.
"What are you talking about Eddie?"
"This is too hard. I'm too-" He huffed a frustrated sigh, too drunk to possibly convey a proper expression. Still, to the best of his shitfaced ability, he tried. "I'm too fucked up for this job. I'm too fucked up for you. I think I'm always gonna be. So... so jut go back to Zed. Or something. I'm gonna fuck this up. I don't want to but-" His words slurred so close together it may have been impossible to understand him if you didn't know him so well. There were tears welling in his eye's as he rambled, and every word went straight to the pit in your stomach.
"Eddie, baby, listen-"
"No, you gotta go on stage!" He waved a hand for you to hurry away. It was true, but your concerns for him were increasing by the second. Stagehands poked their head in the locker area, calling your name, insisting you hurry. You called back to them to find Kelsey, God how you wished anyone else would be in charge enough to help. When your sleezy ass manager finally rushed in, you told him you refused to go on stage until you saw Eddie put into a cab and escorted back to your hotel. Because there were people watching, Kelsey did as you said.
You played that show with your heart in your throat. You sang with your brain turned off. You tried to remember how great last night was. But tonight scared you too bad.
///
You didn't get on the tour bus. You didn't let Kelsey threaten you to stay for the after party. You rushed to hail a cab and paid the driver far more than anyone ever should have to book it to the hotel.
The driver was brilliant. But the ride seemed to last forever- every second, a threat, in your mind. You worried almost to the point of getting sick. What if they hadn't dropped him off in the room like you demanded? What if he got out and went to a bar or got lost? What if something far worse happened?
You ran inside the fivestar lodge and sprinted to the elevator. You pressed the button to your floor a dozen time, willing it to move faster, muttering your will outloud. The elevator doors creaked shut as you pressed the button again and again, beyond desprate to get upstairs. The indicator passed the second floor. Then it passed the third. And then your ride screeched in an unfamiliar tone, stalling before the arrow could make it to the fourth floor. No.
"This is a sick fucking joke!" You cried out to no one, kicking the doors of the elevator that stalled between floors. You cried and cried and pressed the button again a dozen times before back up, accepting your fate, letting your shoulders hit the wall as you stood alone in tears. Maybe Eddie was right somehow. This was never going to work. Maybe you were destined to break each others hearts. You almost let the grim thought take over your mind. You almost let that conclusion be the finale one to make.
But then you remembered the look in Eddie's eyes last night, when he pinned you against the mattress. And the look in his eyes at dinner. And from the side stages and passenger seats and press junkets. Maybe it was destined to fall apart with Eddie. But you weren't gonna go down without a fight damn it. 
Pushing yourself from the wall, you cursed and pounded the button until the elevator screeched into motion again, rising passed the handful of floors it took until your destination. You practically pried the doors open when you got to where you needed to be, racing down the hall, fumbling your key from your pocket. 
Eddie was there, slumped halfway on the foot of the bed, like he couldn't make it the rest of the way. Empty cans a littered near the bin by the door. Kicking past them, you moved to shake Eddie's shoulders. He grumbled at your jostling him, but nothing you could understand. You cried and tried your best to move him to a more sensible position in the middle of the mattress. You cried and rolled over to kneel by the bedside telephone. It rang twice before she answered.
"Brooke, you need to come get him." You cried. 
"I'm on my way." She assured; without an ounce of hesitation or question or anything but allegiance.
You stayed up, checking Eddie's pulse that never faltered, sniffling back tears for this whole fucked up situation. You stayed up writing a letter to Eddie, promising him things with Zed weren't going to work out. Promising nothing would work out with anyone but him. Promising you'd come visit Eddie in rehab and that you actually loved him more than you knew you were capable of. That even though you were scared too, you were willing. Promising you were proud to call yourself his wife even if you were never actually married. Then you signed your name at the bottom, finally giving him that autograph he'd once asked for.
Brooke was there six hours later. Dressed to the nines, slipping in the room unsurprised by the scene, reaching out to hug you without asking. You let the woman hold you for a moment as you focused on taking deep breaths and convincing your nervous system help was here and happening.
"Thank you for giving a fuck about him. And helping him. For coming all this way." You shuddered a breath and looked to the woman with kind eyes and a killer fashion sense.
"I care about Eddie. I care about you too, you know?"
Brook went on to say that if you ever wanted to call her to talk, her line would always be open. And if you ever wanted to call her to replace Kelsey, she'd gladly represent you. She went on to curse the man in charge of your career, insisting you deserved better than the treatment he gave you. You struggled not to keep on crying as you thanked her a billion times more, and moved to deal with Eddie.
As you and his manager sat up the man, he seemed to wake up from his stupor. Still out of it enough to stay silent, but alert enough to help as you and Brooke dragged Eddie out of the room- and to another stupid fucking elevator and out of the back of the hotel. You had packed his things and stuck your letter in his bag. No doubting he'd receive it in a timely manner.
Outside, Brooke left you to bear all of Eddie's weight as she opened the limo door. In that time, Eddie tried his best to support himself more fully, grabbing at your shirt and yanking himself up to look at you. His eyes were brimmed with tears, still dark and beautiful. Still your favorite pair. 
"You promised." Eddie winced. "No lugging me around." You had a firm hold around his waist, and under his arm. You remembered the deal you made before signing the contracts. You remember what he referenced.
"Not lugging. Helping. That's what I promised." You sniffled, letting more tears fall as you brushed back Eddies hair. His eyes closed and his brow furrowed as you guided him toward the limo. Brook shut his door and promised to phone you. Then they were off. The car sputtered to start and turned down the alley and you stood there all alone again.
///
The next few nights went by in a blur. Texas was hot, Colorado was pretty, Oregon could have been fun, but it wasn't. You allowed yourself no time to think or feel or wonder. You focused solely on the music and getting off this God forsaken tour.
Kelsey went flying down the halls of a casino in Vegas when Ambrose tried to call him out for stealing money from you lot. It resulted in a physical altercation where the manager had your guitarist by the collar against a wall, but the staff security team broke it up and Ambrose slumped off to the lobby bar instead of responding when you asked if he was okay.
That night you stayed up late on the bus to Phoenix, staring at the screen of the telly mounted near the cabinets.
"You're doing that thing again." Zed appeared, looking down at you with tired eyes. "Where you stare a hole through whatever is in front of you."
"Yeah." You sighed. The drummer seemed to decide something, and moved to sit at your side- handing you the joint he'd been smoking. After a beat, he asked if you'd found any good lawyers. You mentioned that you in fact had. Sometime around Detroit, Brooke had phoned you with more information than you knew what to do with and a list of people rallied to help.
 Silence fell between the pair of you once more as a late-night show began to air. You halfheartedly listened to the host relay news updates while passing Zed's joint back and forth. And then a certain topic demanded your full-blown attention.
"Corroded Coffin announced a hiatus tonight, disappointing fans who'd recently been promised an upcoming tour." The late-night host made a joke about the metal groups fans being a bunch of softies. "Yeah, apparently, lead singer Eddie Munson checked himself into rehab for a whole year..." Whatever joke that crackled through the screen next was lost on you, as your eyes brimmed, full of pride and fear. Proud for how Eddie was being public now about his absence from the scene. And fearful for what was next to come. 
A lot could happen in a year. A lot needed to happen in a year. But what if it didn't go how, you all hoped? What if your attempt to hold Kelsey accountable backfired? What if you were never able to get free? What if Eddie found a nice girl down the hall from whatever room he booked and forgot all about how badly he said he wanted a real shot with you? 
"We'll still be friends, right?" Zed pipped up, taking the joint from your grasp and passing you a stray tissue instead. "Way less codependent? More morally supportive?" 
"I'd like that, yeah." You sniffled and smiled to the drummer whose presence had been a surprising safe place for you through this whole mess. You thanked him for being there and for understanding the time and place for your vice driven alliance had come to a close. But after a newly born secret hand shake it was decided that you'd still be glad to call each other a friend.
///
L.A. 1986 -
The holidays fast approached by the end of that tour. Your Christmas was shrouded by legal documents. Kelsey hadn't spoken to you since you'd served him those papers. He didn't even look your way in the court room. 
When the new year kicked in, you spent most weekends visiting Eddie in rehab. You'd play a round of cards and tell him how good he looked and listen as he spoke about how much better he felt too. You each dreamed of life after he got out. Movie dates and song writing sessions. You each parted ways with a well-meaning embrace and sometimes a small kiss or two. 
While awaiting the verdict to your case against Kelsey, you declined your labels deal for a new album. You phoned Brooke instead and asked her to book you a trip to Hawaii. You started packing that night, unsure when you'd leave or for how long. But your trust in Brooke's ability to work miracles remained steadfast. So when your phone clattered and you answered to the sound of her voice, you weren't surprised by the glee in her tone. 
"Do you want the good news or the bad news first?" She asked. Her question faltered your grin and opened the pit in your stomach. Hadn't she just said hello cheerfully as ever? 
"Uh-" 
"The bad news is that old house you wanted me to rent again is no longer available. I can't book it for you." Brooke interrupted, voice flat and tone descending.
"Oh, I see." You shrugged, not half as hopeless as you'd expected to be by her bad news. You expected much worse. But you were pretty bummed. That home was the only one you had in mind, the only space you imagined finding true peace in for your planned getaway. The only home on your mind since you'd left it. You and Eddie had so much fun there. Sure, there were moments filled with awkward silence and questionable decisions made there too. But that little Hawaiian home had your heart damn it.
"But the good news is, it's for sale. And I asked them to hold off on accepting offers until I called you." Brooke rushed to inform. Oh. Now this was very good news indeed. You asked a couple times if she was joking. You knew she wouldn't do that. But you just couldn't believe you had an opportunity much grander and more promising ahead of you. Potentially more than a suitcase to pack.
Without any hesitation you formed a plan. Two days later Brooke sat next to you on a plane, a bundle of hundreds in hand and every pair of fingers crossed. You rented a chic little motel room for one night, and abandon your things there soon as they hit the shelves. You had a house to go buy. 
It all happened so fast. You made an offer any relator would be a fool to refuse, cash in hand. In the matter of an hour and a half meeting, you were signing your name on a dotted line and being handed the keys to a door you'd opened a few times before. It was yours. It was all yours now.
Brooke took you to dinner to celebrate. You bought her desert and asked her what more you could do as thanks. She had done so much for you, more than she ought to have done. The stunning woman shook her head and smiled and reminded you friends didn't owe friends anything. All she cared to ask of you was to make this year better than the last. To see you happier would be enough thanks for Brooke.
The flight back to L.A. was surreal. You spent it planning paint colors and writing a list of movers to call and dates to settle. 
And as soon as your plans were solid and your bags were packed, another weekend rolled around. It was time to see Eddie again. You drove to the rehab in the middle of nowhere and felt something like melancholy weighing in your gut. Something bittersweet in the back of your throat. Things were never going to be the same. 
 The halls were bright white, sunlight making the tile floor shimmer. Residents you'd come to recognize pursed polite smiles your way as you turned corners to find Eddie. You knew where he would be. At the picnic tables in the garden. Maybe with a book in hand. Maybe with a pencil. 
Today, he was sitting amongst the sprawling green grounds alone, a magazine on the table before him. It was closed. As you approached you recognized the Rolling Stone font across the glossy page, looking up to find Eddie staring a hole through the cover. 
"You gotta turn the pages with your hands babe, won't open otherwise." You remarked, stepping through the grass to see Eddie grinning up at you. He was more despondent today than he had been your past few visits. He waited till you sat at his side, resting your head on his shoulder as an affectionate hello. 
"Apparently there is a pretty scathing write up about me in here. One of the first since I paused the band to come here." Eddie voiced, letting one of his big hands rest on your thigh. His rings were missing, and his other usual regalia too. The grey hoodie he wore suited him well, you thought, with his pulled back hair. He looked very clean, in every sense.
"You don't have to read it if you're not ready." You reminded, lifting your head to face the man at your side. He left his hand resting on your leg as he bit his lip and looked to you too. "Or I could read it to you?" 
Eddie shook his head.
"It's time I start facing some facts, ya know? Start doing the hard work of facing what I have to change now that I'm sober enough too." Eddie sighed. He'd spent the past few months getting well, letting his body and mind recover. The next step was to grow. To start molding himself into the version he came here seeking help to rebuild. It was time for the hard part. The part he never got to in rehab before.
"I messed a lot of shit up." Eddie nodded, letting his eyes fall away from yours. "I should have done a lot of things differently. Especially with you." 
"Babe, it's okay. You don't have to do this." You assured, reaching out to smooth your hand over his shoulder. You had never held anything that happened against him. 
"I know we both kind of got roped into a weird and shitty situation. But I could have handled it so much better. You deserved so much more respect than I gave you. And that last night. You never should have had to take care of me like that. I shouldn't have gone that far off the deep end," Eddie sighed, letting his eyes well with tears, sniffing them away as he apologized for it all. You brushed away a loose strand of his hair and shook your head. 
"S'okay, Eddie. We were both just taking those days as they came. We did what we thought we needed to, to get by. It's okay."
As you pulled the guy in for a hug, Eddie fell into your frame without hesitation, burying his head in your neck. You held him there for a moment muttering something about how proud you were that he was doing his best to be better.
"Can I tell you something, now?" You wondered, smoothing Eddies hair as he pulled away to lock his dark eyes with yours. He smiled, when he noticed you were already grinning. When he nodded, you drew in a breath and said,
"I asked Brooke to book me a trip to Hawaii. You know how stressful the past few months have been. Hell, the past year." You began. Eddie nodded along. "She found that same little place we stayed in for our honeymoon." You rose your fingers to curl into air quotes around the last word of  your sentence. Eddie huffed a laugh before speaking up. 
"You loved it there. So did I. So you're staying there again?" Eddie beamed. So did you. 
"It was no longer available to rent." You revealed, watching Eddie's brow furrow. "Because it was for sale. So I bought it. And I'm moving there. Like now. Like after I leave here." Your smile was so wide it nearly ached your cheeks. Eddie was shocked, brows shooting up, mouth hanging open, palms held out before you. You took his hands and nodded to assure you weren't fibbing. 
"Oh my God." Eddie gasped. "This is perfect. I'm so happy for you." He wrapped you in another embrace, planting his lips to your cheek as you started yammering about plans to paint and furniture to buy and an open door policy Eddie was allowed to mind at all times. Eddie watched as you rambled, his grin flattening a little, until his lips were bitten together and his brows pushed togeteher. 
"What is it..." You stopped listing plans and straightened your posture to watch as Eddie sucked in a deep breath. Seeming to choose his words, you tried to remain patient, ignoring the pit in your stomach threatening to grow.
"I can't have you read me this Rolling Stone article because I need to do it on my own." Eddie spoke decidedly. "I can't come visit you in Hawaii. I can't-" Eddie shuddered a breath. "I know we aren't really together. But I need to be really alone, for a while. I need to deal with my own shit, ya know?" Eddie's voice shook as he explained himself, bouncing his knee and moving his eyes from yours to his lap. The void in your stomach widened exponentially. 
You wanted to argue back, remind him what he said the night you slept together last. How he said he wanted to be with you. But you couldn't be so selfish. You unfortunately understood where he was coming from. You swallowed your despair and nodded.
"Okay. Yeah, I understand Ed."
"I'm sorry. I lo-" Eddie blinked up to the sky and shook his head. "I'm sorry."
A moment of heavy silence swirled between you, as you made the hard choice to be okay with this, at least in the moment. Then you looked up with a grimace of a smile. 
"Can I still write to you? I'd like to still write to you." You declared, watching Eddie work to find composure. 
"I'd like that too." He breathed, forcing a smile. "I'm still happy for you." He assured, his voice thick with emotion. 
"And I'm still proud of you." You smiled, and you meant it.
///
Hawaii 1987 -
Another holiday season was fast approaching. And this year you had every opportunity to celebrate. You bought a little faux tree and put it by the fireplace. You decorated the big kitchen windows with garland and let Christmas vinyl's spin from the record player in the guest room. 
The little Hawaiian home was clean and cozy and decorated just the way you liked. Since moving in, fresh paint brightened the walls. Old familiar photos hung there too. A few miscellaneous tour posters and three platinum records the only memorabilia you held on to from the past four years.
On the kitchen counter was an offer from your record label you were still mulling over. The year off and away from Hollywood was a refreshing and much needed break for your sanity. Creativity seemed to flow more freely all the while. You definitely had music in mind to record. You just weren't sure if you were ready.
You liked the life you had here. The mornings you spent milling about the markets down the block. The friends you made of your neighbors. The quiet. 
You missed your old life too, though. More than you thought you would have. You missed making music and singing for crowds. You missed dressing up and going out. The closest to a wild night out you had since moving here was when Brooke surprised you one summer weekend. She stayed at your insistence and took you to the finest restaurant on the Island and gossiped for two days and three nights straight. And when you asked about Eddie, she said he missed you. She said he kept your rarely exchanged letters on his coffee table. She said you should call him. But you couldn't. You wanted to respect his space. To allow him all the room he needed to grow into sobriety and into the new version of himself he was anxious to learn about.
But Brooke wouldn't answer when you asked if you should get back in the studio soon. She said only you could know the right answer to that question. So you mulled it over from then until now. Teetering closer to calling back your label every day, eager to agree to record something. 
And then it was Christmas time.
It would've felt lonely if you let it. But you'd worked too hard on finding hope in the dullness, this year. You worked too hard finding peace in the quiet, this year. You reminded yourself to relish the home you got to call your own. How you truly felt you belonged here. You marveled over how fate handed you these house keys. You smiled when you remembered how you'd come to fall in love here, in more ways than one. 
Then there was a knock at the door.
Mulling toward the front of your home, you expected a delivery or two. You'd ordered gifts for your neighbors this year, and some for yourself too of course. You were determined to have a happy fucking holiday.
But the man at your door was more of a gift than you'd asked for, this year. 
Eddie was there, grinning wide, wringing his hands. His hair was a little longer, the longest you'd ever seen it. His frame was toned, his face was full of warm color and his eyes were bright and clear. He was a vision. He was so damn beautiful.
"What's all this?" You smiled, letting a laugh of surprise escape your lips. 
"Surprise? I hope I'm not intruding." Eddie rose a hopeful brow, his dark deep eyes peering into yours for the first time in too damn long.
"Shut the fuck up and come inside you fool." You smiled and widened the doorway, stepping aside so Eddie could enter. Your heart hammered at the sight of him, your soul buzzed to life at the realization that he was here, he was really fucking here.
"Just like old times, aye?" Eddie grinned, letting his gaze float across the home he'd discovered with you, a year ago. 
"Hopefully not." You noted, crossing your fingers this visit led to a more positive and promising outcome than your last time together in this home. Eddie laughed and asked how you were liking it, complimenting the changes you'd made since last he saw.
You rambled for a bit about a particularly hard renovation and another story about how perfectly another came together. Then you asked if he was hungry. It was almost dinner time. 
Before you knew it, you were mixing up your famous pasta sauce to the tune of Eddie's story telling. He made you laugh so hard you cried, and nearly burnt yourself stumbling to catch your breath near the oven. He ate your dinner with gratitude and answered your questions about how his life had been going. Eddie spoke about a tiny apartment and a sparse kitchen and an empty schedule. Eddie admitted it had been hard, but that he was finally in a place he felt he had control over. Eddie helped you clean up and let you make some hot cocoa's because it was the damn season.
You led Eddie to the living room, warm mugs in hand, rambling back and forth about the year you'd spent apart. You spoke about making new friends and considering calling your label back. You mentioned how much you missed him, like a lot.
"You're not mad I'm here?" Eddie cautioned, setting his mug on the coffee table and turning to face you. He rested an elbow on the back of the sofa and his head in his hand.
"Why would I be mad, Eddie?" Your mind boggled, unable to consider feeling anything besides unbridled glee at the mere thought of the man's presence.
"Because last time I saw you, I said I couldn't come here. And now I've just invited myself over all of a sudden. I'll understand if-"
"No, I'm not mad. I didn't think you'd never show up. Maybe that's the hopeless romantic in me." You shrugged, smiled and dipped your chin toward your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassed blush.
"Romanic, eh?" 
"I never stopped loving you, Eddie." Your voice was a whisper. Eddies eyes burned into yours. His gaze was full of desire you recalled rising up in him before. His gaze was full of adoration you remembered him expressing. His dark chestnut gaze was familiar and warm and so nice to stare back into after too damn long.
"Okay I'm gonna say something, then. You can kick me out after this. But I'm gonna say it, okay?" Eddie seemed to decide. 
"O-okay."
"In rehab I did a lot of thinking about the past. What I fucked up. What I lost. But when I got out, I started to realize I had forever in front of me. And there was so much I still had the opportunity to fix and change. And I realized there was no version of forever I want to spend without you. I know this is like... the third time we've come to this crossroad but..." 
Suddenly Eddie was sliding off the sofa and kneeling before you on one knee. Suddenly, he was reaching in his pocket. Suddenly you were staring at a ring. The stone was tigers eye and the band was gold. It was what you tried to pick out all that time ago.
"I'm a mess." Eddie proclaimed "I cannot promise to make your life better. but I can promise I want to be a part of your life. I want to marry you. Actually this time."
"For real?" You gasped a chuckle, sniffing away the spring of tears that clouded your vision from focusing on every little detail of this perfect fucking moment.
"Very much for real. No contracts. No reason besides the fact that I love you." 
You were nodding, holding out your left hand and struggling to suck in a breath before you could say yes a dozen times in a row. The space in your stomach where despair often bloomed was now only full of hope and assurance and calm. The space on your finger that had been left bare since your tossed that ugly diamond ring into the ocean was now perfectly fitted with the jewel of your dreams. The space in front of you was now taken up by Eddie. And he was finally all yours.
///
New York 1988-
"So after Kelsey went to prison and Eddie got out of rehab and moved to Hawaii with me, we got lawfully married, got a dog, helped each other rediscover music."
"The release of your new album suggests you and Eddie are a duo now. Do either of you plan on making solo records again?"
"I don't." Eddie chimed in, finally settling at your side in the booth with a fresh soda in hand. "I'm too unhinged without her around. Plus, she clearly makes music better. It's because of her touch we won album of the year. We probably lost to Paul Simon in 86' because there was too much of my misguided influence on Steel and Stone." Eddie laughed and you shook your head. 
"Don't discredit yourself."
"Will there be a coin toss to decide who gets to keep the Grammy?" Rolling Stone chuckled.
"We'll probably keep it on the mantel where we both can see."
After that interview ended, Brooke picked you both up from the lounge and let you stay in her loft until your flight back to the Island was due the next morning. You didn't wake her when the both of you got up and snuck off. But you left a letter on her counter, explaining that she deserved an award for putting up with the pair of you after all this time. So, you left the Grammy on her counter too. ///
Hawaii 1990- You opened the front door with one hand and balanced a bag of produce with the other. The man at that bodega at the edge of town was still selling veggies from his garden. Even though he walked with a cane now he'd manage his way to sell you produce for half price every weekend. 
You breezed through your home, toward the kitchen where you rested your bags on the counter next to a radio that had been left on. Right on cue, Eddie made his way in from out back, dripping ocean water on the rug you put down to protect the hardwood floors. 
"Wanna come out there with me while the waves are still calm?" He wondered, finding a towel and kissing your cheek as a morning greeting. You'd been brave enough recently to wade in the water a little deeper than ever before, with Eddie at your side, and only when the tide was calm. 
"I'm making breakfast now," You waved off your husbands offer, catching a glimpse of your tiger eye ring in the sun rays through the window curtains.
"Then I'll help." Eddie smiled, stealing the tomatoes you were in the process of washing clean. He took the food to begin prepping and turned up the radio on his way, a song you'd both written played. You watched as Eddie helped make your meal and listened as he sang to you and thanked God for the music that made it possible for your paths to cross and connect together. 
What you might write next together was just as an exciting thought as what the pair of you might watch on the telly later. Life was easy to find love within when Eddie really clearly loved the hell out of you. This house felt like a home with him in it. Eddie was finally home... and so were you.
///
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lovejosephquinn · 1 year
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Don't mind me, just writing my morning Christmas Eve horny thoughts down 💀
Under 18's DNI.
It was quite obviously the middle of the night, the darkness surrounded you tucked up in bed with your boyfriend. You stirred from the sound of muffled whimpers beside you, the slight sound of movement beneath the quilt. Keeping your eyes shut and listening for a minute, you hear what seems to be spit being lathered onto the length of Joe's cock, he smoothers it down from the base and upward making his body tense up, a slight hitch of a moan loudly erupts from his throat and your eyes shoot open as you start to feel the way his fist pumps slowly up and down. Fuck.
You're turned on your side facing him so you edge forward so your mouth's inches away from his ear. "You need some help baby?" You whispered in a low, seductive tone. Joe could feel your presence, a smirk falling onto his features as he felt your hand creep over his, enveloping around his fingers, moving with him. "I d-didn't want to wake you and I couldn't stop thinking about the way your tight little cunt feels when I fuck you." Joe muttered, the deep resonance of his voice showed he had been asleep, but had clearly woke up with a stiff and incredibly hard erection, fantasising about you.
"Let me touch you." Joe's hand instantly released his shaft into yours, you spat onto your hand quickly and mixed your spit into his, skimming your finger tip over his leaking head, Joe bit down on his lip, crumbling underneath the soft touch. "Fuck Y/N, yeah touch me like that."
Your fist now gripped around his length, feeling every vein popping out, enjoying the way his hardness twitched in your contact. Jerking his cock in a swift, fast motion. You stopped. "B-baby don't stop."
"I'm not." You exited downward, the sheets devouring you as you took the tip of his cock between your lips, sucking harshly, making his hips buck up and a couple more inches entering your mouth.
"Mmm, you're such a naughty girl, suck my cock for me." Joe's head fell backward, his eyes rolling, his mouth gaping open as you didn't waste a moment in taking every inch of him inside, his hand grabbed your hair, pushing it up into a ponytail whilst saliva leaked out of the corners of your mouth, the moment you felt the tip hit your tonsils, your choking noises cloaked from the bed covers, the movement of your head sliding up and down. You moved down to his balls, caressing them with your tongue, nibbling on the loose skin and taking them one by one in your mouth, sucking rampantly and slipping them out with a pop sound.
Licking a stripe up from the base and back to the tip, Joe could barely hold on not a few minutes longer. "Let me fuck that slutty little mouth, my cock's aching to cum down that throat of yours. You want my cum baby?"
You smiled against his tip, your lips brushing and he could feel you nodding slightly. "Good fucking girl, open your mouth wide."
You did just as he said and his hand pushed you downward in one fell swoop, your eyes watered as he took you to your limit, gagging against the base of his cock, your tongue lapping around it, Joe's moans were flying everywhere which made you hum with your mouth full. "Yes, yes, yes. Take my cock, take my fucking cock."
His hips thrusted upward, deepthroating you only once more until his cock began to spew pools of cum into your mouth, trickling down your throat as you swallowed the lot, his hand releasing you whilst you rid him through his high, his body spasming, toes curling and within the darkness, Joe could see stars in his vision.
You came back up to where you previously lay. "Thank you my love." His lips found yours amongst the pitch black, tasting the saltiness on your tongue, his cock softening yet still throbbing from the intensity of the orgasm you unleashed upon him.
"Turn over, I need my little spoon." Joe moved his arms around you, caging you to him, a slight sigh of contentment fell from his mouth, he could go back to sleep happily knowing that when he woke again, his cock would probably be buried inside your cunt, fucking up into your walls fast and erratically, hearing the memory of your moans as you attacked his neck when he leaned down to thrust hard, he'd let his imagination begin to run wild once again until that moment came.
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queenimmadolla · 2 years
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𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ─ 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝟖𝟕'
(young parents!Eddie Munson x fem!reader)
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more dad!eddie and penny adventures can be found on my masterlist
summary: . . you leave eddie to watch your newborn with some ‘help’ (they don’t really do anything) from jonathan and argyle.
a/n: everyone lives in Hawkins because i said so. as always, no beta so mistakes will be fixed later. 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
* . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * . * . *• + . * .
“Dude.”  Argyle leaned in for a closer look, staring deeply into the unimpressed, brown eyes peering up at him from her place in her bouncer, tiny fists curled near her head, fuzzy with dark curls. “You had a baby.” Eddie snickered while Jonathan shook his head in amusement. “Yeah, I know that, man.” “No—you don’t get it, man! Like, you had a baby. You’re a dad. She is composed of half of your DNA. The fruit of your looms!” Jonathan choked on the cold pizza he’d been scarfing down at that bit of Argyle’s rant. “She’s—Oh, she got your eyes, too.”  Argyle ended on a coo, a finger reaching down to run over her soft, chubby cheek. From the moment you and Eddie brought Penny home three weeks ago, you’d been attached to her. Utterly and completely obsessed with the perfect little being your body had spent months creating. While you’d been initially incredibly hesitant to meet her—coherently, at least, she’d been placed on your chest briefly when you’d been having a horrible out of body experience from the pain of having just pushed her out seconds before—it was hard for you to put her down now. You blamed that newborn baby smell. It was your weakness, if she was cradled against you, your head was angled down to sniff at her hair. You loved bonding with her in general, but your mother had made sure Eddie knew to not let you withdraw from society once Penny came, and then she’d told Eddie all about Postpartum Depression, effectively scaring the shit out of him. So that’s how you ended up having a girl’s day with Nancy, Eden and Robin. Sure, you’d started crying after showering your little baby in kisses and love and you’d had to be literally dragged out by the girls but Eddie knew you’d have a good time.
Just like he knew he could totally handle Penny on his own. Jonathan and Argyle had come along with the girls, but both were entirely too curious about Penny to leave. Not at all because Eddie had body blocked the door once they realized their ride was driving off. Alright, he was still scarred from day two out of the hospital.  Max and Lucas had come over to the trailer to visit Penny—Lucas loved holding her, you found it so cute—when you had gone to change Penny’s diaper and immediately began crying out for help. Eddie had never bolted so fast in his entire life with Max and Lucas on his heels, and the sight that greeted them was horrifying in a new parent sort of way. Penny had shit so violently once you’d undone her diaper that it was splattered on the wall, she was peeing all over your hands, and she’d thrown up, the milky looking substance also leaking out of her little nostrils. She herself didn’t look at all phased by what she’d just done. So, yeah. Maybe he needed a little back up for now. “Who’s got beautiful, angel eyes? Who’s got beautiful angel eyes? You do! You do!” Eddie watched Argyle gently tap her little nose, and his heart warmed when he could see his baby smiling around her pacifier. He knew it was probably just gas since she was starting to learn how to use her face, but he liked to imagine she knew just how much everyone loved her; that she’d never have to feel like he did growing up, unloved and alone until Uncle Wayne had stepped in when his father had been arrested and he had no one else. His kid had family. And a damn good one at that. “You can pick her up, if you want.” “Whoa.” Jonathan warned. “Hey now.” Argyle took a physical step back from the newborn, eyeing her skeptically. “And risk dropping her—man, that’s not cool.”
“You won’t drop her, so long as you hold onto her. Kind of common knowledge, but simply don’t let go.” Eddie rolled his eyes, stretching forward from the couch to slip his finger into her tiny little hand. She gripped onto it immediately, and he leaned closer to give it a kiss, inhaling the scent of her skin. He couldn’t blame you for sniffing her all the time—she did smell ridiculously good.
“Fine, man. Then you get her out of that chair thingy, ‘cause I don’t wanna hurt her or something. I’m used to Eden’s siblings, they’re like uh a little older by like a lot and stupid invincible. One of her brothers came down the driveway on his bike just when I pulled up and I hit him with my car. Little dude just got right back up, kicked me and left!”  Eddie’s eyes were wide as saucers as he carefully pulled Penny out of her bouncer—the three of them collectively awing in adoration when her lower half scrunched up on instinct as she brought her hands to the sides of her head— and stood up in front of Jonathan. “You get first dibs since you don’t currently have a likely hood of hitting my daughter with a car at some point in her life.”  Jonathan immediately looked like he wanted to runaway, but ended up hesitantly accepting Penny into the crook of his arms as Eddie handed her over. It had been a while since he last held a baby, the last having been Will and he’d been a kid then, too.
He took to it naturally, though, his body relaxing as he held up her hand, thumb rubbing gently over her soft palm. Her squishy little fingers wrapped over his thumb as she stared up at him, most likely curious about a face she’d seen a couple of times before, but not so often this close. Or maybe she wasn’t thinking at all. 
“She’s so. . . small.” That wasn’t what he meant, he’d meant she looked so innocent, so fragile to the world around her. She wasn’t even his kid, but the longer he held her, the more sure he became of the fact that he’d kick ass to keep her safe, something he didn’t do very often, but very effectively. “I’m an uncle.” Eddie smirked, filled with pride as his daughter won another skeptic over. Jonathan ran a hand over her head, mindful of her soft spot, in awe of how soft her hair was. Damn, she really was cute. And she did have Eddie’s eyes.  “She’s a pretty baby.” He commented, moving his thumb around in her hold. “Not gonna lie, I thought she’d you know, be a little ugly when she came out, what with having been squished through a hole, but no. She was even a pretty newborn.” Eddie admitted, he hadn’t seen a whole lot of newborn babies before Penny, but he knew they looked like little aliens fresh out the womb. “You and baby mama must have been some pretty cute looking babies, then. Any kids Eden and I have are screwed, man. I was hairy as hell and I’ve seen her baby pictures, let’s just say they’re gonna get double takes.” Argyle ranted, but he too was focused on Penny and Jonathan, looking a little envious. Once Jonathan got his fair share, he shifted her around in his hold, making sure to support her head as he transferred her into Argyle’s ready and waiting arms. He seemed to change his tune after witnessing Jonathan hold her and successfully not throw her across the room like a football.
Unlike Jonathan who hadn’t wanted to move her around too much in his grasp, Argyle sat her up right, making sure to support her head at Eddie’s prompting. Penny looked startled as her body tried to slump forward, stopped by Argyle’s hold on her. The pacifier stopped moving, and Eddie tensed, waiting for the cry but it never came. Instead, the pacifier began to move again and she let out a soft grunt, but she didn’t seem to mind all that much.
He relaxed, sinking into the couch on Jonathan’s other side. Argyle noticed her drooping lids and deciding to be brave, placed her back into her bouncer as gently as he’d seen Eddie handle her.
Eddie couldn’t help but grin down at her, taken with the way they’d drop completely only to shoot back up. He was reminded of all the late night conversations the two of you had, and how you always fought sleep off, keen on talking to him instead of sleeping. Your eyelids would get all droopy, you’d close your eyes, and then catch yourself, snapping up and briefly awake before doing it all over again.  Eddie wondered how many more memories of you looking at Penny would trigger for him. He couldn’t wait to figure it out.  As if she knew he was thinking about her, Penny’s gaze wandered to him and he locked eyes with a pair identical to his own. Then she forced her pacifier out of her mouth and began to wail something fierce.  They all jumped up immediately, eyes wide at the sudden drop in her mood. “What did I do? Was it something I said?” Argyle asked, blaming himself as he began to panic. Jonathan was running his hands through his hair, distressed.  “No, you didn’t do anything,” Eddie reassured him as he picked Penny back up and walked to the small kitchen, grabbing a bottle from a recent feeding attempt. “You hungry, little bitty pretty one?” He held the bottle to her lips but that only seemed to make her angrier as she struggled against it, head moving away from the nipple. Her face was all squished up and took on a darker tint as her wails died down to whimpers. Eddie knew what that meant.  He was quick to place the bottle back down, but the damage was done. Penny was silent for the briefest of moments before she began shrieking. Water started to pull in the inner corners of her eyes—a new development, up until two days ago, all she could do was cry but her body hadn’t produced tears yet—and she let her little lungs ring loud in the trailer. Eddie knew his neighbors were probably cursing up a storm but they could kick buckets for all he cared. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. That’s not what you wanted, was it? My poor girl. Daddy’s gonna make it right.” Eddie soothed, cradling her to his chest with one hand holding the back of her head.  It seemed to do some good, hearing his voice had stopped the piercing shrieks, but she was still crying and very loudly.  He pulled her little baby bottoms back to check her diaper, but it was still clean so she couldn’t be upset about that. Eddie sighed, raising her a little higher on his chest so he could nuzzle her, pressing kisses into her sweet smelling hair.
Then it hit him. Penny was tired. That was it. She was just tired but unable to fully slip into blissful slumber on her own and she was upset about it. Eddie wanted to beat his head against the fridge for having overlooked something so obvious. He reached down to turn the knob of the radio, bringing it to life before he began searching for a station. Once he’d stumbled upon one crooning out oldies, he swayed, patting her bottom to further soothe her.
Penny’s cries died down almost immediately, turning into soft grunts instead as her lids began to droop again. It was after Eddie started singing along, his voice low and soft, that she was finally able to fall asleep, snuggled up to her daddy with a fist full of his hair that was most definitely going to be super fun getting out of her grip without waking her. Eddie turned to find Jonathan and Argyle watching them. Jonathan had a ghost of a smile on his face while Argyle stared at him in wonder. “Dude. You’re a dad. You just did a dad thing!” Jonathan grinned. “I agree. Looks like I’m the only freak in town now, you’re Eddie ‘The Dad’ Munson, now.” “Hell yeah, I’ll take it.” Eddie didn’t bother trying to hide his smile, he was cheesing’ it up.  You’d called him something similar a couple of times. Teased him about being Eddie ‘The DILF’ Munson, which was really unfair given you hadn’t been cleared by your doctor to have sex yet, so he couldn’t make that a reality.  “It’s crazy how this time last year, we were freshly graduated, you were eloping against every single adults’ opinion and now you have a baby. It’s mind boggling. But like, at the same time it’s not. . .I don’t know, help me out here.” Argyle slapped the back of his hand against Jonathan’s shoulder a few times.
“Being a dad suits you. You’re good at it. You’re a good dad and a good family man.” Jonathan supplied, meaning every word. He’d know, he had a shitty dad like Eddie did.
 That one simple statement hit Eddie hard, and he held Penny just a little tighter to his chest. “Gotta give her everything I didn’t have.” — You nearly broke the door down when you’d gotten back to the trailer. Despite your hesitance to leave Penny, you’d actually enjoyed the time with your friends. Sure, you spent every single second you weren’t talking thinking about your little family, but you still had fun.  The car ride back was spent wondering how much of a mess the place would be. Robin was expecting there to be a small kitchen fire, Eden was expecting one of the boys to be crying, Nancy was just curious to see how Jonathan had lasted in the presence of a baby. For future after college and established careers purposes, of course. You had faith in Eddie, had seen how quickly he had and still was adapting to being a dad. The others you couldn’t ball park so your money was on Argyle being the crybaby to which Eden quickly agreed.
But you hadn’t come home to any of that. The boys were all sat on the couch, fawning over your baby who had woken up in much better mood. “My baby!” You made grabby hands as they got up to greet you, and Eddie let you scoop her up from his arms in exchange for a kiss. You could hear Robin gagging when she realized she was third wheeling three different couples, so you assumed Nancy and Eden were also receiving ‘welcome back’ smooches.  You leaned down to violently inhale Penny’s new baby smell, pulling back with a look of satisfaction on your face. “That’s the good stuff. How’d it go?” Eddie laughed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead and trailed a finger through Penny’s curls. “Oh, you know. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”
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finalgowrl · 8 months
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well, goodmorning…
Joe Keery as Sean Lockwood in Finalmente L'Alba (2023)
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babybluebex · 7 months
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bad idea, right? | joseph quinn x fem!reader
summary: yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect? // aka your ex joseph conveniently texts you to come over just as you're missing him, and who can say no to those eyes? pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader tags: SMUT (minors dni), thigh riding, teasing, confessions of love, bareback (USE A CONDOM IRL PLEASE!!!), no ejaculation (it's ok, you'll see, just read it) author’s note: i am BACK with a new joe fic, i have been thinking about him NONSTOP ever since miss olivia dropped this song, and it's taken me forever to write this but here we are :) enjoy! follow @babybluebex-writes to be notified whenever i post new fics!
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This was such a bad idea. No, it wasn’t a bad idea. It was the worst idea, one of the worst things you have maybe ever done. That bar wasn’t set too high, but the point remained. It was stupid and bad, and you just shouldn’t be doing it. And yet, here you are. 
You had been out drinking with your friends, ironically trying to get over Joseph. He was a good man— good enough, at least— and had been a relatively good boyfriend to you, but he was different than everyone else and was itching for more than you were, a family and a life and shit, and you had just wanted to have fun with him, so you had broken it off with him. The breakup had initially happened a few months ago, but your friends had never been able to drag you out of your flat and to a bar until then. There was nothing to mourn, you tried to tell them. We just wanted different things and split amicably, there’s no bad blood there that I need to drink to get over. 
Around 11 o’clock or so, your phone buzzed on the bar top, and you glanced down to see a text from a number that your phone didn’t recognize, but you knew all too well. I’m lonely, it said. Would you like to come over? 
Your friends were absorbed in their conversation, so you put down your vodka soda and typed out a reply. Joe, you know that’s a bad idea. 
I moved. Do you need my new address? 
You sighed. Yeah, I do. 
There was something about Joseph that you couldn’t place, but it made him irresistible. He was magnetic, he was charismatic, he was attractive and funny and kind, he was everything, but he just wasn’t what you wanted or needed for your relationship. He wanted kids; you didn’t. That was it. He was so irresistible, though, that there was no question about the fact that you would wreck your plans to see him. 
“Hey, I gotta go,” you told your friends, and they all booed and awed and asked what was going on. 
“Wait,” one of your friends started. “Are you going to see Joe?”
You scoffed, in a way that you hoped conveyed how crazy you thought that was. “No,” you said. “My social battery just ran out all of the sudden. Long day at work, and I’ve got another long one tomorrow and… You know how it is.” 
“Alright,” your friend said with a pout. “Be safe, alright? Let us know when you get home.” 
You agreed and, with a few hugs and kisses, you went on your way. Joseph had texted you his new address and you plugged it into your Uber app, and, the whole ride there, your leg was jiggling and you were nervous. It was just Joe, it wasn’t like you were going to meet some random guy you met online (although Joe had started out as some random Hinge match). You had dated him for two years, you knew him, so why were you nervous? 
He was grinning at you when you reached his place on the second floor, an easy sort of smile that you remembered loving. “Hi,” he said softly, reaching out for you, and you took his hands, smiling back at him. 
“Hey,” you said. “So, this is your new place, right?”
“Yeah,” Joseph said with a shrug. “It’s not much, but it’s alright.” 
You stepped inside and set down your bag next to the door, along with your jacket and shoes, and you examined the front room. The new flat was definitely smaller than the one you had shared together, the kitchen all smushed up next to the den, with the smallest hallway leading down to the bathroom and bedroom, and you settled on the couch easily. “I like it,” you said, your eyes going to his bookcase next to his television. A biography of Caracalla sat open, and you shook your head. “It’s cute. Very you.” 
“Thank you, love,” Joseph said. He sat down beside you and put his arm along the back of the couch behind you, and you inched a little closer to him. 
“Isn’t it a little… Silly?” you started, and you began to chew on your lip. 
“What is?” Joseph asked. 
“This dumb little dance we have to do,” you said. “Like we both don’t know why I’m here. We have to pretend, like, ‘Oh, I like your apartment’, ‘Oh, how have you been’, y’know?” 
“Well, we don’t have to pretend,” Joseph said. “We can just… Get started.”
“Yeah,” you mumbled. “But I don’t wanna, like, just come over and fuck and leave.”
“So…” Joseph started. “You want genuine small talk?”
You shrugged. “I guess,” you said. “How have you been?”
“Honestly,” Joseph started. “Pretty bad. I’m so used to coming home and having you here, I find myself so lonely and bored and… I don’t know. It’s been a few months, I thought I’d get over… Whatever this is.”
“That’s alright,” you said. “I’ve been missing you a lot too. I miss our old apartment… The bathtub was so nice and big.” 
“Yeah,” Joseph chuckled. “You remember when we took a bubble bath together and lit candles? That was nice.”
“Yeah,” you agreed wistfully. It went quiet then, both of you trying to avoid the obvious, and you finally sighed. “This is a bad idea, right?” 
“Probably,” Joseph said. You looked over at him to find him already looking at you with those damned chocolate puppy eyes, and you tilted your head a bit, your eyes lingering on his lips. That’s something that you missed about him; he was a damn good kisser. 
“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you said quickly, and you leaned in, pressing your lips to his. His arm around your shoulders dragged you close to him, and he kissed you back, letting his lips mold against yours. You moaned softly, taking in the familiar taste of him, and you shuffled to sit across his lap. His hands went to their usual spots in the back pockets of your jeans, squeezing and kneading your ass as his tongue slipped inside your mouth, and you raked your fingers through his hair. You don’t remember him doing his hair across his forehead like this the last time you saw him, but maybe he did, but it really didn’t matter. He was hot as fuck, and he wanted you. 
“Fuck,” Joseph whispered as he broke the kiss. His focus went to your smooth neck, kissing and lightly sucking and making you moan again, and his hands drifted out of your back pockets and went to the front of your pants, popping the button open with ease. “Pretty girl…” he mumbled, and you giggled as he started to edge your pants down. The angle was awkward, definitely, and you shuffled to stand up and take down your pants. Joseph dipped down on the couch a little to pull off his sweatpants (grey, soft, the kind you once told him make his dick look good), and he discarded them to the side as you straddled one of his big thighs. This was always one of his favorite things, having you ride his thigh, and he looked gleeful when he realized that that’s what you were doing. “Oh, yeah?” he asked, and you smiled, flexing your hips down and starting to drag yourself along his hard thigh. 
“I remember you liked this,” you told him, and Joseph’s throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, letting his head fall back as you started up a rhythm, letting yourself glide along his leg. He mumbled and cursed, his big hands falling to your hips, but he didn’t control you; he was just holding you, feeling you, loving on you. 
“I do,” he mumbled. “God… Yes, sweet girl, just like that.” 
You whimpered as your clit brushed your stretched panties, and Joseph looked up, a sly smile on his lips. You loved when he watched you, and you made sure to move your body smoothly— all the better of a show for him. “Yeah,” he mumbled, biting his plush bottom lip. “That feel good?” 
You hummed out a positive sound, digging your fingernails into his shoulders through his jumper. “God, Joey,” you sighed, and you lilted your head to watch him as his eyelashes fluttered and he sighed with you. "Missed you."
"I missed this too," Joseph said. "Take off your panties, I wanna feel you."
You couldn't help but oblige him, and you lifted yourself from his leg and stripped off your modest underwear (you weren't exactly thinking ahead when you got dressed to go out, and you certainly weren't expecting Joe to text you). The feel of his warm skin on your pussy made your stomach swim with butterflies, and you put your hands on the back of his neck, just at where the curls ended. God, those curls. You pulled him into a kiss and moaned into his mouth, and you tugged on his curls to make him whine.
"Don't tease me, baby," he told you in a low voice, and you smiled and continued on your path, absolutely set on teasing him now. Your hips slowed, and you nestled your mouth right in the crook of his neck, setting soft kisses on his skin. "Oh, fuck, you're an evil woman, did you know that?"
"Yeah, well," you shrugged noncommittally, and Joe grabbed you around your waist and pulled you off of him. Roughly— rougher than usual?— he pushed you down onto the couch, and he settled himself on top of you, his thick thighs caging you in. You watched greedily as he righted himself and stripped off his jumper, exposing the little soft hairs on his chest; now, without the baggy jumper, you could fully see his hardening cock, rising to lay against his tummy.
"Like what you see?" Joe chuckled lightly, and you realized just how hard you had been staring at him.
"How could I not?" you asked. You reached out for his cock, taking his length in your hand, and you stroked him easily, base to tip, squeezing when you got closer to his balls— just the way he liked. He hissed in a sharp breath through his teeth as his eyes grew three times their size, and you smiled.
"Thought you'd've forgotten about that," Joe laughed breathlessly, and he edged back on the couch, aligning his hips with yours. Apparently, it seemed as if speed was the name of the game tonight, and it almost hurt your heart to think that he just wanted to hook up with you. You knew that coming to his place wouldn't end with a reconfession of love and for him begging for you to stay, but it stung to know that he was just trying to get you out as quickly as possible.
"I could never forget," you said, hoping that he could see through your words and see your teary eyes, hear your thick throat, feel your loss. You loved him, and the breakup hurt, but it was better being apart. But was it really?
"I wouldn't want you to," Joe told you, and he pursed his lips for a moment before he spit down onto your pussy. "You think I can ever forget you?"
You lined up the head of his cock with your hole, watching as he throbbed in your hand, and he sank his hips forward. The feel of the stretch had you gasping, and you moaned as he slid inside you, nestling perfectly. "Hey," Joe said firmly, and you looked up from the show to see him earnestly staring down at you, his eyes... Wet? Tearful? "You don't think I could ever forget you, do you?" he asked, and you bit the inside of your cheek.
"Not now, Joe," you mumbled.
"Yes, now," Joe insisted.
"You're inside me," you protested, and Joe gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly as he began to fuck you. The pleasure made your breath hitch, and Joe buried his face in your neck, kissing the slender column of your throat.
"We can talk and fuck at the same time," Joe said. "God knows we've done worse and fucked at the same time."
"But talk about this?" you asked. "Joey—"
"I can't sleep without you," he said softly. "Every time I wake up alone, my first thought is that you're using the toilet and that you'll be right back. I can hardly relax without your feet in your side... You really did take up the whole of the bed."
"Joe—" you started again, but he shook his head, his curls thwipping you in the face.
"And I can't eat," he continued. "I miss your cooking, and what's the point of eating anyway if you're not gonna steal bits of it off my plate?"
"Don't say that," you frowned. You were still acutely aware of his cock inside you, ebbing and flowing with the movement of your bodies, but, slowly, you came to realize exactly what this was. Maybe this was a reconfession of love. Maybe he would beg for you to stay. Maybe he was more than lonely tonight, and was just rushing the sex to get to the part where he asked you to come back to him. "That's not... Fair. I'm doing better without you."
"What a lie," Joe chuckled mirthlessly. "You're not wearing your favorite going-out dress, you're not even wearing mascara. You didn't want to leave the house tonight, but you did. Why?"
"My friends dragged me out," you said.
"Exactly," Joe said. "You'd rather stay home and rot in bed, because you're just as miserable without me as I am without you. Admit it, we were so good together, don't you want that again?"
"Joe," you started. "We broke up because you wanted kids, and I didn't. That's not something you can compromise on, that's not a conversation you can table for later. We broke up because we wanted different things, and that's okay."
"But I want you back," Joe said. "I need you back. Please, we can compromise on this. We can... Fuck, I don't know, we can get a cat. Or a puppy, or a lizard, or whatever the fuck it takes for you to come back to me."
Before you could say more, your phone buzzed in your purse on the floor just by your head, and you sighed as you reached for it, any distraction welcome. Your friend was texting you: Make it home ok?
Yeah, you answered quickly. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow xx.
"Joe," you started. "I... I only see you as a friend now. I don't think I can return to what we had."
"That's the biggest lie you've ever said," Joe told you. "If I was just a friend, would you have come over tonight?"
"Yes!" you said. "Because I'm a good friend! You said you were lonely, and I wanted to come help—"
"Oh, God, there was an undertone, and you know that," Joe cringed. "Don't act like you didn't know exactly what this was."
"Fuck," you mumbled. "Joe, I— Can we wait until we're done fucking?"
Joe sighed and, setting his jaw, angled his hips back and pulled out. He went in search of his clothes quietly, and you did the same, and, as you were zipping up your trousers, you said, "I guess I just don't... Don't see how we can have what we had. Not now, not knowing that we want our futures to be so different."
"We don't have to have what we had," Joe said. "We can have something completely new. We can make something entirely different, entirely our own, whatever we want. Please?"
You looked up from your jeans to see him looking at you. He had shaved his facial hair down to nothing, and you frowned to look at it. "I hate the way you do your hair now," you mumbled. "And I wish you'd grow your mustache back out."
Joe shrugged. "Maybe I will," he said. "If you want me to."
"I do," you said. "And we can get a cat, but you have to do the nasty shit, cleaning up after it and everything. We can... We can get back together, if you... If you promise you'll never leave me again."
Joe stepped towards you and wrapped you in a tight embrace, and he kissed the top of your head. "Never again, love."
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blairrwaldorfs · 1 month
Text
High Infidelity
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Did you really have to chart the constellations in his eyes? Did you really have to tell him how he brought you back to life?
Author's Note: Babe by Taylor Swift, High Infidelity by Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift, My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift, Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift. I don't know... I don't know... I don't know. My mind is all over the place the past week and needed to write this down for some distraction. I don't know... I never done a back to back series nor have written something like this, so yeah. Forgive me for all the trigger warnings. Everything is all so crazy. This is a very very hard thing to write because of past emotional abuse experiences in real life that still terrorizes me and maybe it's a letter for the past experience to let it go.
Disclaimer: 18+, emotional abuse, mention of harming, infidelity
(Please, please don't read this if it triggers you. I need you all to think hard about it before reading this one. This is a bit of a dark fic).
Wordcount: 3.2K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - epilogue
“Late again?” 
Your boyfriend, Eli, asked you the moment you entered the flat. You were kicking off your shoes by the front door, eyes full of exhaustion as you sighed. He was by the kitchen heating up some leftovers. You didn’t exactly understand how it was “late” because technically it was only 9pm.
“Yeah, the event went pretty late.” You replied.
You technically left the event early knowing that Eli would start asking where you were. That was how he was these days. Keeping count of everything you did.
You were technically not an official assistant in the team. You just started this job, and it was more of a paid internship that you applied to because you needed the money, and it paid really well. You worked for Joseph Quinn’s team. A British actor who got pushed into the limelight too fast after his appearance in Stranger Things.
Joe was nice. His team was nice and very organized and all you had to do was bring Joe’s things, get coffee, and help his team organize whatever they needed for Joe. 
That was all. 
Nothing too complicated.
Nothing for you to really complain about nor do something that could ruin this whole internship that you applied for. 
Well, at least that was what you thought. 
“That’s a nice dress.” Eli stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes studying you as he ate a piece of chicken. 
For some reason, his eyes studying you like that made you feel angry and annoyed. It wasn’t like he was doing anything to you, but the tone of his voice was making you feel annoyed. 
“Thanks. I’ll go freshen up.” You gave him a small smile, giving him a quick peck on the lips before heading down the hall. 
“I’m sure many men were staring at you tonight.” Eli added his little comment that made you stop halfway from your steps and looked over your shoulder.
“I was just doing my job, assisting.” You reassured him before continuing down the hall and into your bedroom.
You weren’t going to lie. Your relationship with Eli for the past two years has been rough. He was constantly jealous, constantly making rude comments about what you wear and how you wore your makeup to the point where you had stopped putting makeup on. You had changed your whole closet to just jeans, t-shirt or jumpers. You changed your whole style and personality because you didn’t want any trouble from Eli. You didn’t want to disappoint him. 
However, this new job of yours came with the responsibility of dressing up and wearing makeup when you accompany Joe through the many events or movie premieres. That made Eli squirm even more for the last four months whenever you came home wearing a nice dress and nice makeup. He would comment how the dress was too short or the dress was too revealing. 
“I wore a jacket, don’t worry.” You would tell him. 
“Next time, pick one that isn’t so revealing.” Eli would scoff. “You’re mine. You don’t need other men looking at you.” 
You could feel the love in your relationship was slowly fading, and you didn’t know how to get out of it. You were too scared to do something about it. Terrified even what he could react or say towards this decision of yours if you ever decided to cut this off. Eli had been very aggressive towards his words to you and sometimes, even if he wouldn’t say something, you could see the disappointment all over his face. You were a people pleaser, and you were the kind of person who didn’t want any trouble, so you tried to give what he wanted most of the time.
It made you hide inside yourself even more. It made you feel insecure. It made you terrified of every decision you made because you didn’t want to upset him. You didn’t want to see that reaction on his face even if his lips were saying something else. It made you feel like you were walking on broken glass every time. 
Sliding yourself under the covers next to Eli that night, you saw his eyes studying you the moment you entered the room and brushed your hair in front of your vanity. His eyes never left you until you laid next to him. He immediately moved himself close to you and pulled you in his arms, hugging you from behind. 
“So, how many more events do you have to go to?” He asked.
You sighed, closing your eyes. Eli was never interested in your job. You knew he was asking about it, so he knew what he was expecting. By that, it meant he would be monitoring the outfits that you would wear and the people that would be around you in that event.
“Not sure.” You murmured. “I’ll let you know once my supervisor lets me know.”
Eli lets out a soft hum and kisses you on your cheek before turning you to face him and kisses you roughly on the lips, towering over you. For a second, you went with it and kissed him back, pushing your body against his and letting him have what he wanted. He lets his soft fingers slide the strap of your tank top, kissing your bare shoulder. His lips found the skin of your neck as he softly sucked onto the skin, a small gasp escaping your lips.
“Babe.” You whispered, slowly pulling away. “I’m tired. I’m early tomorrow.”
Eli sighed, letting himself laid back down on the bed next to you. 
“You’re always tired.” He argued. “The last time we had sex was last week.”
“I’m sorry, I’m just tired today, and I have to get up early tomorrow.” You turned your back on him, closing your eyes. 
“Right.” Eli said sarcastically, getting up from the bed.
You looked over your shoulder, sitting up on the bed as he made his way towards the door.
“No, c’mon. Don’t be so upset.” You said.
You could see it all over his eyes that was getting upset, and you knew if you didn’t do something about this, he wouldn’t talk to you for the next two days. He would make up an excuse that he was busy and that he would be with his friends. 
“Come here.” You reached your hand out to him as he paused in his tracks and stared at your hand. 
He gave you a small smile and walked towards the side of your bed, taking your hand in his as he kissed you hungrily and towered over you on the bed. You let him touch you in all the ways he wanted to, but you just felt numb. You couldn’t breathe as you stared into the white ceiling and kissed him back softly, letting his fingers brush against your burning skin. You felt disassociated as he kissed you hungrily and pushed himself inside of you. 
You felt nothing but disgusted with yourself for being so weak.  
That was how you have been feeling lately with your relationship. You felt trapped and you felt like a chain has been around your neck lately, and Eli was pulling it every chance he got. 
“Hey, could you go to the coffee shop down the block to get everyone coffee?” Alex, Joe’s manager, asked, interrupting your thoughts the next day. 
“Uh…sure.�� Alex handed you a piece of paper with everyone’s orders. 
Your job was always simple but as time went on, your interaction with certain people became more frequent. In the beginning, Joe couldn’t even look at you nor acknowledge you that much unless he was thanking you for bringing him the things he needed. Then, Alex and his team had gotten busier that the things in your list were starting to add up. Part of your job has been added to “make sure Joe is in this place at a certain time,” or “make sure Joe wears this suit instead of this.”
Then, there was the chore that Alex would give you to make sure that his collar, tie or buttons on his shirt was perfect before he stepped out of the red carpet. 
“Do you enjoy your job?” Joe had asked you that one time when you had sat on the sofa of his dressing room, waiting for the rest of his team to arrive. 
“Sure.” Your voice almost sounded so monotone that Joe couldn’t even believe your answer. 
He sat there and tilted his head at you, one brow raised and waited for your real answer. You let out a deep breath, closing the magazine that you were reading and set it back on the table.
“I guess it’s okay. Couldn’t complain.” You shrugged.
Joe let out a soft understanding hum and focused his attention back to his phone, scrolling his time away. He was getting ready for his movie premiere, and you were there to make sure that everything he needed was there. That he looked perfect right before he stepped out of the red carpet.
Not that you hated your job but sometimes, it could get so repetitive that you looked bored after the events. The rest of Joe’s team would go and prepare whatever they needed to, and you would just make sure Joe was fine. That he didn’t need anything. 
“Here.” Joe handed you a glass of martini at the after party of the premiere.
“No, thanks. I’m technically still working.” 
“And looked bored.” Joe’s face was a little too close to yours as he whispered those words.
You hesitated, your eyes scanning the room trying to look for a sign of Alex. Joe couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head.
“They went home. So, technically you’re the only one left here.” Joe answered the question that you were asking in your head. “C’mon. You deserve it for working so hard all the time.”
Pursing your lips, you stared at the glass that Joe was holding before finally taking it from his hand and taking a sip of it. Joe smiled and took a sip of his own drink, his eyes scanning the room before falling back to you.
“Are you usually this quiet?” Joe asked.
“I’m just doing my job.” You answered, a small smile creeping up on Joe’s face. “I don’t want to interrupt anyone.”
“You’re not interrupting me.” Joe smiled, taking another sip of his drink.
You could tell he already had a few drinks before this conversation. You continued to drink the glass of martini in your hand and didn’t reply a word to what Joe said. You could tell the alcohol was making him a little bolder, and he was trying to flirt. You didn’t want to step into any boundaries because first of all, it was inappropriate, and you didn’t want to lose this job either.
“So, how long have you been here in London?” Joe asked.
“About two years.” Your answers were plain and simple as Joe continued to play 20 questions with you. 
By the end of the night, you both seemed to open up to each other a little bit more, and you were able to learn Joe more personally. The thing was that you didn’t realize that night was going to be a start of something new between you and him because ever since that event, Joe’s attention was on you most of the time. He would gaze down at you and give you small smiles, while you would fix his collar or tie before he stepped out onto the red carpet.
Then, during after parties, you would be left to babysit Joe, and you would notice how his eyes would catch your eyes across the room. You sat in the corner and minded your own business, your focus on your phone. However, Joe would walk towards you and catch your attention.
“Wanna dance?” Joe held out his hand.
You bit your lower lip and said, “I don’t dance, sorry.”
Joe sighed and sat next to you, his eyes lingering on the screen of your work phone. 
“Whatever Alex is telling you to do can wait ‘til tomorrow.” 
“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t have a full to-do list.”
Joe laughed softly, raising his brow at you. “A full to-do list? I’m the one who has to stand in front of those cameras and do the interviews, remember?”
Joe had a point. 
Though, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “True.” 
You and Joe would talk for the rest of the night. You both would laugh and tease each other. You both would start talking about personal things, and he somehow was able to understand you well. It made your heart swell a little bit. 
It wasn’t right that you felt this way towards Joe because you were in a relationship. You could just easily let Joe know that you weren’t single and that whatever flirty tricks he was trying to do to you, it wouldn’t work. However, you kept dancing around that subject. You didn’t bother bringing that subject up and towards the end of the night, you both would start flirting a little bit more. Besides the fact that you were in a relationship, you also didn’t want to do anything unprofessional or inappropriate because at the end of the night, you were technically still working for Joe’s team and Joe. So, you tried your best not to lead him on. 
That was until you had come home one night and found Eli waiting for you in the living room. You arrived home half an hour past nine, and he already looked upset the moment you had stepped inside the flat. 
“Where have you been?” Eli’s tone of voice wasn’t what you liked at all. 
“I’m sorry, I had to finish some things. I texted you I was going to be late.” You explained.
“No, you didn’t.” Eli argued.
“Yes, I did. Didn’t you get my message?” You knitted your brows, making sure your voice was calm because you didn’t want to upset him even more.
You watched Eli pick up his phone from the coffee table and looked down at it and let out a deep breath.
“You know, maybe you should look for another job if they keep making you stay up this late.” 
You slid your coat off and hung it on the coat hanger and said, “It’s only 9:30. It’s not that late, Eli.”
You heard Eli scoff and shook his head. “So, you'd rather be with them than with me?”
You were confused. 
Where did that subject came from?
You didn’t understand why Eli was acting like this. Shouldn’t he be more supportive about your career? Didn’t you tell him that you needed this job because you needed the money? What else did you have to say or do to make sure he would stop this jealousy thing because it was making you so exhausted.
“I… I didn’t say that.” You murmured.
“Maybe you just don’t love me the way I love you. Just tell me, and it’s fine. I’ll happily go.” Eli shrugged, looking down at the floor.
You walked towards him, taking his hands in yours. The guilt inside of you brewed in your stomach but at the same time, you wanted to vomit. 
“I do love you. I told you that, remember? I love you.”
You felt nothing.
“Then, find another job… for me.” Eli looked into your eyes.
“I… I can’t. It’s hard to look for another job out there and this pays me well, while I’m able to learn the entertainment industry. You know how much I want a career in that industry.”
Eli’s eyes suddenly turned glum again. He slid his hands away from yours and exhaled sharply. 
“Why would you even want to be in that industry? So you could be naked and show everyone that?” 
You couldn’t understand what he was saying. You couldn't understand why he was acting like this.  
“You know that’s not true!” You argued.
You were exhausted from explaining yourself over and over again, and he just didn’t believe you. You felt like whatever you did was never enough for him. Tears started welling up in your eyes as you watched Eli grab his car keys.
“Wh…Where are you going?” Your voice stuttered, terrified of what he might do.
“Obviously, you don’t love me. I mean… no one loves me, so what’s the point, right?”
You grabbed his hand, trying to take the keys away, but he had his hand in a fist as he tried to slide his hand away from your grip.
“No, stop! Please.” You begged, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Don’t do this.”
“If you love me, you’d do this for me.” Eli replied, his eyes hardened as he stared at you.
You didn’t say a word because what he was asking of you was impossible. You already had lost yourself and your dignity. Your job at the moment was the only thing that you have that could maybe help you get back up again. After a few seconds of not replying, Eli pulled his wrist away from your grip, shaking his head.
“If you find me dead on the road then that’s on you.” He stated before walking out the front door. 
“Eli!” You cried out, running out the door, but it was too late as he had already gotten in the car and drove off.
Going back inside the flat, you laid on your bed that night, sobbing and questioning as to how you have gotten yourself into this situation. Questioning every decision you made as to why you were too weak to break this off. 
What if you break this thing off, and Eli would actually harm himself? It would be all your fault like he said. What if no one could love you after this? What about the happy memories that the two of you had at the beginning? What if you would regret it at the end for letting him go? You knew you were the only one that he had left in his life. You couldn’t do that to him either. You couldn’t easily just get out. 
You were trapped. 
Stuck. 
Frozen.
Around midnight, Eli had come back home. You weren’t asleep when he had entered the bedroom, but you had your eyes closed. How could you sleep after tonight? How were you able to have a peace of mind if he was out there? How would you know that he didn’t do anything to himself? It would be all your fault if something happened to him. 
You just couldn’t shut your mouth and agreed with what he was asking, couldn’t you? 
Feeling his arms wrapped around your torso, you felt him nuzzling your hair. You didn’t move. You couldn’t move. You knew he wasn’t going to apologize, so you didn’t try to hope for that. Eventually, he had fallen asleep, holding you that night. A tear rolled down your cheek as you covered your mouth with the palm of your hand to block out your sobs, so he wouldn’t wake up. 
At this point, you didn’t know who you were anymore. 
You just felt numb and lost, choking in your own tears. 
Taglist:
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icallhimjoey · 3 months
Note
Here’s an idea: You’re out with Joe, and a couple of buddies. Joe’s immersed in a conversation but absentmindedly playing with your fingers. You notice. Maybe think of other soft shit he does unconsciously. Pure softness.
just... i know who you are, and you need to fuck all the way off, because how DARE you Wordcount: 2.2K
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Love Languages
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The best chats always happen at night. 
“Hey... hey Joe,” 
In bed, in the dark.
“Hmm?” 
When you’ve just laid down and turned the lights off and you’ve already kissed and said good night. When you’re meant to get comfortable, close your eyes and fall asleep. When there’s an alarm already set and when you’re not meant to be chatting. 
But you lead busy lives. 
These moments in bed are the most silent, undisturbed, and private moments you’ve got. When you’re alone, phones face down on bedside tables, and there’s no media to distract you from each other, darkness only fuelling the honesty.  
“Joe,” 
“Mmhmm,” 
You don’t fall into conversation every night. But when you do, they’re the best chats.  
“What do you think your love language is? Or mine?”  
Joe groans softly and rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and he takes a moment to think as he inhales deeply. 
You’re on your stomach, facing him, both arms folded close to your body, hands underneath your pillow, and not tired at all. 
“It’s um...” Joe rubs a hand across his forehead, and for a short moment you think you’re annoying him. That he just wants to sleep and wants to be left alone. But then he says, “Yours is taking ugly pictures of me.”  
You immediately giggle, hiding your face into your pillow.  
“Ones where my hair looks fucking awful, and you’re not,” Joe stops to sigh, pretends to be all annoyed, then continues, “You’re not even taking ‘em, you’re finding them online and then save them onto your phone, I think that’s,” Joe breaks, can’t help but laugh himself now too. 
“Stop,” you try, grinning as you roll onto your side. “That’s not what I mean.”  
“No, I know, but I think that should be one of them. Because that’s definitely yours.” 
“No, but I mean from the–” you are about to delve in, list the five love languages, fingers at the ready for visual counting. But Joe interjects.
“That’s yours.” He says matter-of-factly, cutting you off.
“All right, thanks. Good night,” you pretend to roll over to go to sleep, and in turn make Joe laugh loudly.  
“No, okay. All right. What are they again? These love languages you speak of...” 
You’ve rolled back in an instant and feel like you’re a teenage girl at a sleep over, softly explaining the concept of love languages. The topic hasn’t just randomly popped up for you – you’ve been thinking about Joe’s love language all night. Or, well, love languages. Plural. You’re convinced there’s several. All of them maybe even.
Earlier that evening, when you went out for some drinks – just the quick one, Joe’d said, but it kind of turned into a slower three, maybe four drinks sort of situation – was when you’d started thinking about it.
Joe had been talking to a friend, a story you’d already heard, opinions shared that you already knew, so you weren’t really listening. Weren’t really participating in the conversation. Gave you the time to look around a second. To observe for a moment.
And Joe’s a fidgeter, you know that. Especially when surrounded by others, like right then, and evidently so.
You saw how he plucked at his jeans. How he kept playing with his sleeve. With his rings. How he kept slowly twisting the drink that was on the table in front of him. Kept rubbing at his chin and his cheeks. How his index finger scratched at the skin beside his thumbnail.
You’d only folded your hand over his to make him stop.
Without even breaking eye-contact with his friend, he moved his fingers to intertwine with yours and then just held your hand a second.
Then, he started scratching that same finger at your skin, and you’d tried to use your fingers to still his once more.
It worked.
Sort of.
It made him release your hand from his grip, but then instead, grabbed you by the wrist and held your hand there, on his lap, face neutral and attention not wavering from his friend.
His other hand found your rings to twist, your palm to softly move finger tips across, and your nails to push his pads under.
Touch.
It felt so obvious then that touch was Joe’s love language. He was always so tactile. Always reaching out, grabbing hold of you wherever and then holding on for however long you’d let him.
If that was a knee, then it was a knee. And if that was a foot, then it was a foot.
More often than not it was a hand though. A hand that got taken hold of.
It wasn’t unusual to wake up with a hand that curled around your neck. With an arm that rested across your collarbones, or had snuck under your T-shirt and splayed out on your back. With fingers that wrapped around a wrist, or the back of his hand that rested against your cheek.
Joe’s love language had to be touch.
“I think yours is touch.” you say softly, and you can see how Joe blinks a few times. Seems to think it over for a second, then raises both his hands to look at. Or to show you. Either way.
“I don’t think so?”
Um.
Excuse him.
What does he mean he doesn’t think so?
“I’m not touching you right now, am I?” he clarifies, and you scoff as you wiggle your leg that he keeps sandwiched in between his.
“I think this counts as touching,”
“That’s just,” Joe huffs, “That’s just me helping you out because you get cold feet.”
And it’s so silly, because it makes you laugh as you try to pull your leg out from in between his knees, but Joe just clamps down and fights against you. Uses his fingers to prod you in the ribs to make you laugh louder until you relax.
You know it’s touch.
But, what if it isn’t?
It could be gift giving too.
Not big gestures. No insane meaningful you-mentioned-months-ago-you-really-liked-this-diamant-ring-so-here-you-go sort of gift giving.
More the, I-got-myself-a-bottle-of-water-and-got-you-a-yorkie-because-you-like-those sort of gift giving.
Or the, I-got-my-dad-a-nice-bottle-of-wine-and-decided-to-get-you-one-too gift that he would then casually leave in your fridge.
Just little things that showed you that there were moments in the day where he thought of you.
And you had to stop telling Joe to surprise you when he asked if you needed anything from the shop, because the couple of times you had done just that, he’d just gotten everything he’d seen that he thought you’d like.
“Joe this is… this is just a full bag of ice cream?”
“Yes. And drinks.” he’d said as he let his body curl around you, arms strongly around your waist, chin planted on your shoulder.
You peeked into the bag and moved some things aside to have a better look.
“You got me- what the... you got me a whole bag of ice cream and alcohol…”
And he’d just shrugged a little sheepishly because, yea, he had. Because those were the things you liked, weren’t they? The premixed gin & tonic cans. The Häagen-Dazs caramel biscuit and cream pints.
Unbelievable.
But, could that count as acts of service? Because you’d asked him to surprise you, and just to satisfy your want for something unexpected from him, he’d gone and done just that for you... right?
Or did acts of service only count when you didn’t ask for them?
Like when Joe would see how you’d already curled yourself up into the corner of the sofa, all comfortable underneath a throw-blanket, phone in hand, but no mug of tea on the side table.
He’d just make you one then.
And exactly how you liked it too.
Would even silently take the empty mug after you’d finished it and make you a second one. Seal it off with a squeeze of your shoulder and a kiss on top of your head.
Sometimes it’d be larger stuff, like that one time he’d made you cry when you’d walked into your flat after work, expecting it to be in the messy state you’d left it in the night before. But when you’d left for work, Joe’d still been in bed, and before he’d walked out the door, he’d made sure to tidy the whole place.
He’d not done it right. Of course not. There were still things he’d misplaced that you considered lost, vanished into the ether.
But the fact that he’d put the effort in?
You walked in that day and immediately burst into tears. Had left him a crying voicemail in which you swore at him, called him all kinds of names and finished with a much softer and mumbled “I love you.”
Joe had just responded to it by sending a heart emoji and then that made you cry even more.
Idiot.
You knew your love language probably wasn’t words of affirmation. Obviously. Unless calling someone a dick for doing something nice counted as such.
Joe’s probably wasn’t words of affirmation either.
Although, sometimes... he just very randomly would say something so incredibly sincere and heartfelt, it would almost make you uncomfortable, would make you want to shut him up.
Like when you were out to dinner with your parents, and there was a short silence in conversation, like there naturally would be sometimes, and Joe felt it was the perfect time to let you know that he was proud of you, a hand sneaking under the table to squeeze at your thigh.
Or that time when you were sat in a cinema, everyone quiet, the room dark, all eyes on the big screen, and he’d leant closer to whisper how pretty he thought you were.
“Oh my God, shh,” you’d whispered back, already feeling the blush in your cheeks as he used careful fingers to swipe your hair behind your ear.
“Just thought you should know.”
Or sometimes, when you both had a bad day and were being short and snappy with each other, when you would kind of avoid each other, and would be stuck in sour moods, Joe would very suddenly let you know that he did actually still love you.
You once told him off for leaving all of his shit all over the place, nothing of it tidied away, and you had angrily started clearing things yourself. He joined you then, and it was just four angry hands throwing things around without much care until he suddenly stopped and grabbed your face in both his hands. Forced you to look at him, and God, you’d frowned so hard at him. Were so annoyed with him.
But then he had just said, “I love you.”
It made you look away, stubborn enough to want to hold onto the frustration, but Joe’d just followed your eyes, moved around to keep the eye-contact and repeated himself until you begrudgingly said it back.
“I love you too.”
“Good. Now go sit down. This is my mess to tidy.”
Although, all things considered, quality time was probably up there too if you had to choose one.
Like right now.
Chats in bed counted as quality time, surely. Just time spent together with no one else around. Silent conversations whilst faces pressed into soft pillows and bodies tangled under heavy covers.
“I think mine is maybe acts of service,” you say after some thought.
Joe has his eyes closed again and murmurs a soft, “Hmm.” as a hand snakes over your side and pulls you closer. You easily curl into him, nose to nose, breaths shared.
Yea, no. Touch. Joe’s love language is definitely touch.
“Maybe,” he then adds in a whisper.
You wait for him to explain himself, which he does. After a minute.
“Mmmno,” Joe slurs, and you know he’s about to fall asleep, everything slow and heavy, real effort needed to get the words out.
“It’s laughing at inappropriate times and then calling me,” he yawns, then continues, “And then calling me a dickhead.”
You huff a short laugh, and Joe can feel it on his face. He can’t help but smile, because he knows why that’s funny.
You only call him a dickhead when he is the one to make you laugh at inappropriate times.
And you would’ve fought him on it had you had the strength for it still.
But he’s sort of right.
“Hmm,” you hum, agreeing that laughing at his jokes and calling him names probably does count as your love language.
But his is definitely touch.
The proof is right there in the pudding, you think, as you feel a hand sneak under your top just to rest against warm skin for comfort.
And maybe yours is touch too, but on the receiving end.
“Hey,” you whisper so softly, Joe almost doesn't hear it.
He responds with a squeeze of his fingers.
The best chats always happen at night. In bed, in the dark. But this one, spoken in his love language might just surpass them all.
---
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