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ghost-proofbaby · 7 months

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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER FOUR: CASTLES CRUMBLING

AND HERE I SIT ALONE, BEHIND WALLS OF REGRET. FALLING DOWN LIKE PROMISES I NEVER KEPT.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, mentions of RUMORS of workplace sex scandal, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.4K+

☆ A/N: if you would like to listen to the song that eddie is recording at the end - it is an actual, real life song. :-) it is called "blood sport" by sleep token (one of my favorite bands i get to see live next week!!), and i highly recommend listening to it during your reading. especially the latter half of this chapter.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

“Alright, so – anyone care to fill me in on what the Hell that was?”

Matt stands like a disapproving father figure as the band lines up opposite of him just outside the building. Eddie had hoped nothing would be mentioned until they were in the car, but the driver was clearly running a few minutes late.

Three of the boys glance at each other, worried expressions immediately giving up the hoax even as Eddie only shrugs and says, “What do you mean?”

“Cut the shit, Munson,” Matt had never appeared so livid, so undone by irritation. His usual patience with Eddie is nonexistent, “What’s going on between you and that girl? Is she a past groupie?”

The insinuation gets a scoff out of Gareth. Jeff side-eyes him in warning, but Eddie couldn’t care less, “No, she’s not a past groupie. This was the first time I’d ever-”

“Don’t lie to me,” Matt points an accusatory finger at Eddie, narrowing his eyes, “I am your manager. If you have any unsavory connections with that girl, I need to know so I can decide if we need someone else to organize the event. We are not having another repeat of the Lewinsky scandal.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew you called it that, too!” Gareth cheers, but he’s quieted by one look from their furious manager.

The Lewinsky scandal had been their code-word for when the tabloids had become convinced that Eddie was fucking an assistant at the label. A girl had even come forward and claimed to have had sexual relations with Eddie, and he had taken heat for it for a full month before the buzzing novelty worn off.

Eddie had only spoken three words to the girl. No, thank you when she’d offered him a mug of coffee during a late night at the studio. He wishes now he’d been less polite.

And he also finds himself wishing that’s all this was. He wishes you were just another scandal, another terrible rumor spread around. If all the accusations between you two were false, if all the hatred was based on misconstrued circumstances, it would be so much easier. He can talk himself out of that. He can confess to those sins and get off with no more than the order of one hail mary from Matt.

But you? The reality of all that had happened, both all those years ago and just thirty minutes ago? He can’t find the words. They choke him up, unwilling to leave the cavern of his chest and enter the world, just like all the songs gathering dust as demos.

“It’s not going to be another Lewinsky scandal,” Eddie scowls, feet shuffling against the concrete below him. Can’t be another Lewinsky scandal if she wants nothing to do with me anymore, “Maybe she just doesn’t like me. I am allegedly a very polarizing public figu-”

The car pulls up, and Matt is quick to grab Eddie’s shoulder before glaring at the boys, “Get in, I’m not finished with our polarizing public figure yet.”

Grant and Gareth only let out low whistles, following instruction without lingering as they clamber into the back row of seats in the SUV. Jeff takes his time, though, going as far to pause beside Eddie and place a hand on his back.

“Just tell him the truth, Eds.”

It’s the final nail in his coffin. Eddie is cursing Jeff’s retreating figure as he climbs into the vehicle and shuts the door, leaving him alone with Matt.

“Explain,” Matt demands, “Now.”

Eddie’s eyes focus on a gaping crack in the sidewalk, jagged and uneven, right down the center.

He has two options. He could continue to lie, insist he knows nothing about you until Matt just gets bored of not being offered the truth. Or he could admit it all, reveal the muse behind the art he had been fiercely protecting over these last few months. Every line, every chord, every broken note that had left his lungs during those witching hours in the studio.

On one hand, it’ll rip away the opportunity that has been offered to him on a silver platter – the opportunity for closure. Selfish, bloody closure that neither of you had gotten, it seemed. But on the other hand, it might grant him some sympathy. Matt, the label, the producers – they had all grown tired of the dance Eddie led them in every time they’d inquire about the music. But if Matt knew-

It’s a dead end trail of thought. He knows he won’t admit to the worst of his atrocities he’s committed. No scandal, no late night ending with him in handcuffs, no fraudulent headline is going to compare to what he did to you. What you did to him.

It’s a little too late for damage control, anyways.

“I went to high school with her,” the lie works well enough, easing some of Matt’s frustration, “I was just shocked to see her. All of us were shocked to see her. No big deal.”

Eddie knows the people around him have come to learn that they must pick and choose the battles they engage in with him. And he can see that decision flash across Matt’s face as he decides that this is not a battle necessary to the war.

“Alright. But if you’re lying to me-“

“I’m not lying.”

“If you are, that’ll be one of my last straws, Munson.”

It won’t be. Eddie knows it won’t be. Everyone, every single goddamn person in this world it seems, is capable of giving Eddie Munson unlimited chances — except you. You, it seemed, were the only person who had come to their senses.

You always were smarter than people gave you credit for.

—

“Run the track again.”

They’d spent a few hours in the studio already. It was an odd hour for them to be haunting the space, more used to visiting in the dead of night rather than the middle of a weekday, but it was down to the wire now. Vocals needed to be recorded, instrumentals fine-tuned, tracks properly mastered. Eddie could no longer hide in the night when it came to recording the haunting melodies stained with the blood of his past — no matter how wrong it felt to see a sliver of sunlight breaking through one of the windows, just through the top of the blackout curtains.

“I really think that was the one, man-“ the producer starts, probably just tired after repeatedly running in circles with Eddie’s perfectionism.

He doesn’t care. He’s paying them, they can stand to let him re-record as many times as necessary to satisfy Eddie, “Run it again.”

The silence only continues to buzz in Eddie’s headphones. He’s ready to cuss out the producer as he angrily shoves them down, off his ears and hanging loosely around his neck, the wire a leash as he whips to face the one-way glass wall. The lights are off at the main board, guaranteeing that they can see Eddie but Eddie can’t see them.

Until suddenly, the light comes back on, and the reason for the absence of the repeated track Eddie had requested becomes obvious.

Gareth.

He stands at the center of it all, a few paces from the seated producer with a deep scowl on his face.

“What the fuck?” Eddie says, mouth just close enough to the mic for them to catch his overflowing annoyance, “I said-“

“We heard what you said, Eddie,” Gareth interrupts, his voice just loud enough to be faintly heard even as the headphones curl around the nape of Eddie’s neck, “But I need to talk to you.”

It’s the strictest tone that Gareth has used on their lead singer in an unfathomably measure of time. Probably because it’s the most words he’s said to Eddie in a very long time, as well.

Eddie finally removes the headphones, hanging them carelessly on the mic stand and moving towards the door — surprisingly, without putting up a resistance.

The control room is warmer than the fairly large area that served as a ‘booth’. Smaller, as well. Cramped with a low couch and one too many chairs available to trip over, the control board spanses the entire wall that holds the oversized window into the recording room. A plethora of small lights twinkle like stars, and numerous switches that Eddie had come to know better than the back of his hand alternate positions to guarantee the clearest sound. Only Gareth and the producer occupy the room, the rest of the band having taken off around the fifth time Eddie had requested a redo of his vocal tracking.

“This better be good,” Eddie complains, furrowing his brows, agitated at the interruption.

But Gareth shows no remorse, “We need to talk.”

“Yeah, you said that already.”

“We need to talk,” Gareth repeats, eyes flickering to the poor soul still seated at the controls, “Alone.”

Eddie hardly has to open his mouth, the man jumping out of his seat the moment the lead singer flicks his wrist to signal for him to leave.

Whatever Gareth was about to say had to be important, and it’s that thought rather than the difference in temperatures that has sweat building on Eddie’s brows.

Is he about to quit the band? Is he about to tell me he’s had enough? Maybe he’s done with my bullshit — I would be.

“Speak, Emerson,” Eddie flatly insists, grabbing a small water bottle out of one of the mini fridges in the room before he throws himself onto the worn leather of the couch, “And make it quick. We’re on a time limit, you kno-“

“We’ve gotta talk about her, man.”

Her as in you.

For a moment, Gareth sounds like a friend again. He’s dropped all the persistent perturbation he’s taken to defending himself with when it comes to Eddie, his voice pleading as he stands before the distant man. All the rueful power plays that had developed over the last year vanish. It’s just Eddie and Gareth, bandmates who started out in the latter’s garage in some small Indiana town. Not Eddie Munson, infamous rockstar with a chip on his shoulder. Not Gareth Emerson, passionate drummer overshadowed by the ego of his lead singer. Just Eddie and Gareth.

“We all know you didn’t tell Matt the truth.”

“I did tell him the truth-“

“Not the whole truth, then. There’s no way he’d let it slide if he knew that she was your ex-girlfriend.”

The defiance vacates Eddie’s body quickly. He doesn’t even attempt to prowl his mind for a quick quip in response. All he does at the words is drop his shoulders, the defeat creeping up on him as he deflates.

Ex-girlfriend. The title feels so pitiful to truly describe what you were to him.

But to be fair, even when he had been in your good graces, girlfriend had also never felt significant enough.

“Did-“ Gareth starts after a beat of silence, noting the way Eddie couldn’t quite hide his wounds on the topic, “What did you guys talk about? When you went after her, what did she say?”

“Nothing important.”

Eddie turns into a shell, a zombie as he stares straight ahead and tries to compartmentalize. That always worked; with meetings, with arguments, with lectures. Even before the fame, it worked.

It doesn’t work quite as quickly when it comes to you. His brain, it seems, is incapable of uncrossing all the wires you twist within his brain.

“You two were alone for, what, ten minutes? And you’re telling me she didn’t say anything important?”

“What the fuck is there to say?” Eddie laughs soullessly, “Oh, hey, stranger! Remember me? The guy you up and left without a word?”

“Yes!” Gareth shouts unexpectedly, “Yes, that’s exactly what you should have done! She left. Not just you, but all of us. We never even really knew why. And now- what? Are we just supposed to pretend we don’t know her?”

Eddie knew why. She’d never had to say it, and that was the issue. He always thought about all the answers he swore he craved, and always let every question he claimed to have haunt him during the waking hours. But when the day turned to night, when he was left to nothing but his own devices in a dark and empty apartment during the witching hours, he knew. The question of why had been answered since the first phone call cut short with you during that goddamn tour.

The songs knew, too. He supposes it had been an arrogant assumption to believe the band had read into his lyrics and put the pieces together.

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Eddie nearly whispers, throat tightening and fighting him on the words. It’s the opposite of what he wants and needs — but it’s what you want and what you need. And so he plays the messenger, even as it kills him, “We are going to completely disregard my past with her. We are going to treat this entire situation as professionally as possible. I’m talking the full nine yards: you will not mention the fact that we know her, you will not question her about anything from the past, and you will not, under any circumstances, ask her why.”

His own set of rules he’d privately set for himself in his own mind during the car ride over.

Gareth squints his eyes in disbelief, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you serious?”

“Deathly so.”

“This isn’t just about your past with her,” the boy nearly passes, starts to reach up to tug on his hair before he thinks better of it, “This is about the way she left all of us. Not just you. She was a friend to all of us. She was the one who taught me how to tape my drums when I’d bust a hole in them, she was the one who helped us design our first merch, she was the only person any of us would let be in the room during practices. And not just the band stuff, either,” Eddie watches tears form in Gareth’s eyes, “She was the only one who had the patience to help me with my fucking math homework back in school, man. She was the one who nearly curb stomped Jason Carver the week he sent Grant home with a black eye. She was the first person Jeff called when his parents broke news of their divorce, for fucks sake. Not me, not you, not any of us — her,” Gareth’s breaths come out as pants as he stops his pacing and stands before Eddie. The tears continue to lace his bottom lash line as he heaved silently at the end of his rant, his pained expression completely unexpected to Eddie.

This is the part Eddie chooses to forget. He’ll let himself swim in the memory of you late at night, he’ll indulge in vices that always amplify his pain rather than succeeding in his attempt to numb it, he’ll stare down the mirror each morning and curse the reflection he finds with all the blame in the world he is capable of holding in the palms of his hands. But in all the ruptures of his own old scars, he fails to consider that he is not the only one burdened with loss.

They all lost you. When Eddie lost you, so did the band. You’d become a ghost to more than just your abandoned lover — you’d become a tired haunt to boys you’d known, boys you’d befriended and burrowed your way into the lives of, just as well.

“She was our friend,” Gareth chokes out, fists curling at his sides, “Jesus Christ, I- I get it. She was everything to you. Whatever. But she meant a lot to the rest of us, too. Whatever happened wasn’t just some isolated event — you two didn’t just hurt each other. You set off whatever bomb erased her from our lives, but it left the rest of us with some damage, too. Don’t forget that.”

This is the part where Eddie should apologize. This is the part where, once upon a blissful time, he would have said his repentance.

He doesn’t.

“I don’t care how hurt anyone is,” he lowly responds, eyes unable to meet Gareth’s any longer, “I’ve told you the rules, we’re going to follow them. End of discussion.”

Gareth throws back his head, and Eddie winces at his scoff, “She’s not your fucking property, Eddie! She isn’t solely yours to keep or whatever the fuck you think you’re doing!”

Eddie can’t even deny the action of keeping you. All the demos, all the songs laid to the grave because he couldn’t stomach the thought of releasing them for others to experience.

But that’s not what this was. This, the cataclysm that was sending Gareth to finally release all this pent up frustration, was him following your rules. You’d made your wishes for this project very clear, and he needed to at least try to respect them. They all did.

So he takes on the role of the bad guy. He lets them paint him as the villain if it means no red will stain your ledger.

“Oh, I think she’s made it very clear that she isn’t mine,” the mask slips on far too easily for Eddie. Cool demeanor, compartmentalizing. Not you, but his emotions towards his friends, if he could even still call them that. His bandmates that he had once seen as brothers. “Doesn’t change what I said. Don’t push it, Emerson, or there’ll be Hell to pay.”

“What are you going to do? Disappear on us?” Eddie finally looks back up to meet Gareth’s fiery gaze as he spits out hateful words, “Hate to break it to you, but you already left this band behind two years ago. And if you ask me, you should start leaving the vanishing act to her. At least she doesn’t make us pay for her mistakes.”

Eddie is by no means done with the conversation, more than willing to continue fighting with Gareth, but the other boy clearly feels differently. He leaves his words hanging in the air as he spins away, storming out of the door, the air in the studio now several degrees hotter now with the irate fuel of the fight.

It was all a blood sport. All of it. It didn’t matter if Eddie was fighting with the band, the management, with you. It was all bloody and fruitless, and it all left him the same awful type of hollow in the end.

He stares blankly at the wall as he makes a silent decision.

By the time the producer has timidly returned to the room, Eddie has already set up his laptop to connect to the studio's system, prepped so that any recording would automatically copy into his personal hard drive. A way for him to listen and ruminate in the privacy of his own apartment.

The sheet music torn from his notebook already lays at the table besides the entrance to the booth.

“Do you… want to run the track again?” the man, the stranger, asks. He clearly heard the fight. Eddie and Gareth hadn’t been exactly quiet in their screaming match. At least, Gareth hadn’t been.

Is it really a screaming match if only one side fights back?

“I want to lay a new track,” Eddie’s voice is deadpan as he clicks a few buttons, finalizing everything. He only needs the man to click record, “A raw piano and vocal demo. We can add the rest of the band later.”

“I-“

One look from Eddie, hardly passed over his shoulder with a glimmer of unbridled determination, and the man quiets as he takes his seat.

Eddie storms into the booth without another word, fist curled around the page of lyrics and terribly hand-drawn music clefts.

She isn’t yours to keep.

Eddie was aware of that. Painfully, painfully aware. But it had never been about his claim to you.

Gareth was right. Eddie never wanted to own you. Keeping you, however, had been something he should have taken more care with.

The chill of the small room to record in does little to lessen the flames eating Eddie up as he bypasses the assembly of various instruments all crowded in the space. Gareth’s drum set, Jeff’s guitar, Grant’s bass — he storms right past them, eyes locked on the grand piano in the fair corner. It took up the most space, far too large to have been forced to be contained within this compact room.

Eddie drags the mic from where it had been stationed previously with him, quickly and recklessly resetting it at the piano.

Once he’s seated on the bench, crumpled pages thrown up onto the music desk of the piano and headphones snug over his ears again, the producer finally clicks on his mic to speak.

“Hey, uh… Does this demo have a name by chance? Or do you just want to label it as an unknown for now?”

It certainly does have a name.

“Blood Sport,” Eddie spits out. “Just name the file Blood Sport.”

The hum that would indicate to Eddie when those on the other side of that glass window were speaking clicks off, and he takes it as his cue.

He’d written the song a while before. There were some gaps in the lyrics, some notes he’d played with on his personal piano scribbled over and never replaced. He’d never played it in its entirety before.

It starts slow. His fingers hold the ivory keys delicately, arranging for the first opening notes as if he were slotting his knuckles against your own for the first time over again.

She isn’t yours to solely keep.

Were you ever his to keep, ever?

Even the ivory keys of the Steinway are more solid than you ever were. You were nothing more than water, than blood, destined to slip between Eddie’s fingers. He never stood a chance in having you, in holding you, in keeping you.

Not just now, but before all the blood shed, as well. He should have recognized Cassandra’s curse the first day he looked into your eyes. He should have known the twist in his stomach was only Fate sinking its claws into the two of you.

A tale fit for a Shakespearean stage — a tragedy always meant to be.

“I want to roll the numbers, I want to feel my stars align again.”

Eddie’s voice is soft to match the steady beat of piano notes that emit from the crooked curl of his hand against the keys. A soft thump, a gentle lull. And instead of losing himself in the music, he finds himself wrapped up in one of the many memories he’d chosen to lock away for the last two years.

Something was off.

Eddie’s stomach had twisted with anxiety of something being wrong for weeks. You stopped answering his calls, his texts, every form of connection with him. But as he stood in front of the door to your shared apartment, the bile rose even higher in his throat.

He smelt the decay of what he had done before his key had even entered the lock.

“Would you invite me again? Won’t you pay for your arrogance? Won’t you show me your weakness?”

You were never his to keep.

His voice nearly cracks as he approaches the first chorus, not finding the strength behind the vocals he’d always envisioned for the song.

The click of the door opening echoed through the apartment. It felt empty the moment he’d crossed the threshold – you could have just been tucked away in the bedroom, or even in the bathroom, but he knew.

You hadn’t been returning his phone calls. You hadn’t been returning his texts. He knew something had happened, something had changed. Irreversible damage had been done, and he would now have to face the mess he’d created to return home to.

“I made loving you a blood sport.”

He repeats the line until it rings in his head, over and over. Until he swears the words could crack his bones, and the stars that will show in the night sky will do nothing but mock him for the self-inflicted pain.

At first, he convinced himself you just weren’t home. You’d gone to the store or to see friends. You’d be home soon enough and then, the two of you could scream at each other all you wanted. You were angry with him, rightfully so, but he’d rather you yell and scrap with him than the alternative. He didn’t care. Because he was here, back in the flesh and willing to take any and all cruel words you had sharpened for him. The two of you would fight, yes, but at least that meant there was still something there worth fighting for.

After the first three hours, he realized with a sinking stomach that the alternative might just be his reality.

“I want to be forgiven.”

He recalls the look on your face when you’d first seen him today. The fall of your act, the discarding of grace and composure.

The look that told him that he can want all he’s capable of. He can want, he can crave, he can yearn, he can tear himself apart bit by bit with his feeble yet shattering cravings — it won’t change a thing.

You were never his to keep.

After the clock struck the fifth hour of his return, he started his calling.

Over and over and over, he was met with your voicemail. Endless messages spoken and sent alike. Every single one trying to be gentle as they inquired where you were. Letting you know he was back. Going as far as to ask you if the two of you could talk.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to fight, because it meant you still saw something worthy within him.

But even more than Eddie wanted a fight, he wanted you to come home. He wanted you to be there, to welcome him into your safety and remind him he was human again. It was selfish – he was so goddamn selfish – but he needed to feel your skin against his and remind him that he was still a person beneath it all. Beneath the demand, beneath the unwarranted adoration from strangers, beneath all the fractures the sudden traction had left him with – he was still a breathing, living person. He was still your person.

Eddie’s fingers begin to slam against the keys with increasing urgency as his chest heaves out with every syllable. Repeating, and repeating, and repeating the chorus as if it changes a single thing. He loses himself in it all; in the music ringing in his ears and the memories now drowning him as he confesses all his sins to the microphone.

You never came home.

There was no fight, and after the hours reached double digits right along with his ignored phone calls, he had to accept the truth.

You weren’t just at a friend’s, or the store. You were gone. Truly, truly gone.

The drawers once filled with your belongings were vacant. The smell of your perfume was nothing more than a whisper across the pillows. Eddie scoured the entire apartment for signs of you, turning every single piece of furniture over looking for clues. He never thought to check the counter until he’d already ruined the space, terrorizing it in a frenzy before his eyes landed on the letter and the key.

He had approached them both hesitantly. All his denial drained from his body, like the blood pumping through his veins, as his fingers pinched that silver key so gingerly.

A past he can never return to. A home he will never hold the key to again.

The joints of his fingers ache and his lungs begin to burn for all that he lost — all that they all lost — because of him. His own foolishness, his own downfall. He did this.

The aftermath is blurry.

He read the first few words of your letter before promptly crumbling it with his tortured fist, knowing exactly what it said without needing to fully swallow all the words just yet.

He never fully read the letter. He skimmed it, a week later, but not that night.

Then came the flashes of the pain. The way he’d swung his fists at air and menial objects alike. A vase holding wilted carnations met its demise on the kitchen floor, a hole in the wall appeared that he later had to patch up, one of the coffee tables ended up across the living room with a leg splintered half off.

He never dropped the key.

Even as he dropped to his knees in the center of the broken glass, bleeding shins to match his bruising knuckles, he still held that small piece of silver fiercely. He pressed it so tightly, dug it so deeply into his palm that it later left a scar. And not even the way he had grabbed at the broken glass surrounding him had the capability to mar it away as he let it slice his skin, crying out, hopeless and devastated.

You were gone. He had lost you, and he had been arrogant enough to never even notice it.

“You say it doesn’t matter.”

The headphones had long since slipped off his head, and he makes no move to adjust them. He hadn’t even noticed that his body had begun to fall forward and curl into the piano until he’s weakly choking out the final lyric that he hadn’t even written down onto the page.

He hadn’t noticed the tears falling, either.

What were meant to be gasps for air as his fingers fly across the keys in a haunting melody are only sobs. Cries of pain as he no longer can see mere inches ahead of him, a scar of the center of his palm stinging as if brand new, his heart and head pounding in sync. He isn’t even sure if the producer he’s forgotten the name of is still recording. He lets the sobs slip out as he continues to play.

He can’t quite end the song yet. The moment he does, he’s terrified of the version of him that he will have to face once more. All those surface blemishes from the beginning of the end had run deeper beneath his skin. He was nothing more than rubble and fractures now, splintered every which way until he had become unrecognizable. When he looked in the mirror, all he could see was a creature of destruction.

“You set off whatever bomb erased her from our lives, but it left the rest of us with some damage, too. Don’t forget that,” Gareth’s voice echoes in the silence beginning to gather between the notes.

Another wrecked sob leaves Eddie as he finally finishes off the melody, playing entirely unaffected up until that point. Reality crashes down. His body shakes, shoulders hunched as his forehead connects against the freezing wood of the piano and he pinches his eyes shut tightly enough to be left in total blackness.

He couldn’t play another note if his life depended upon it.

The memory fades with the final note before his head rattles with a new image. The smile, the grimace, you had offered him before you two parted ways today. An effort at professionalism that Eddie had seen right through.

Pain. That’s what had twitched in the corners of your mouth. The same pain, if not worse, as the one that now radiated through every atom of Eddie’s broken figure on the piano bench.

He can’t fix it. Not your pain, not Gareth’s pain, not his own pain. The time for damage control, for sincere apologies and any reconciliation has passed. Just like watered-down blood through his fingertips.

Eddie hopes that the producer has had half the mind to stop the recording when he stands and slams the drumset behind him into the wall. Destructive, just as he had been the night he returned to an empty apartment. Just as he had been when he’d been the one to rot and wither away all that you two had once held between you.

They can replace the drum set. Surely, he has a person for that.

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#ghost's writing #eddie munson #maroon #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #finally long enough tag lists to separate lol #voila! corroded coffin is sleep token! wahoo!#i recommend everyone listen to the discography of that band #just sayin #(dial tone is the only non sleep token song that is canon here)#i just can't let go of the death grip i have on that song when it comes to this fic #it was either gonna be catch your breath sleep token or bad omens #and sleep token captures the yearning #Spotify

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missingexaltation · 1 year

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In 1995 Steve gets the invite to his first high school reunion. He and Eddie talk about it and decide to go. After all, Steve hasn't seen any of his former school friends in years and wants to know how they're all doing...but more importantly he wants to see their faces when they see who he's unlawfully married to. Because he's a snarky lil' shit when he wants to be.

Eddie agrees to tag along as his plus one, promising he'll behave. Steve doesn't promise a thing though. They meet up with a lot of people they'd both forgotten about, making genuinely pleasant small talk for a while, and after Eddie makes a break for drinks, Steve suddenly comes face to face with Tommy and Carol.

---------------------------------------------

Tommy's been working in some high flying banking job since he left college, courtesy of his dad, and he's not ashamed to say that he makes the big bucks now. Carol's pregnant with their second, and is now at the stage where she's constantly exhausted, but the funny thing is that they both rake their eyes over Steve like they want to devour him. He looks good. Happy.

It's at this point that Munson, of all people, make his entrance, interrupting with a 'sorry Stevie, all they have is this weird punch thing and I'm like mostly sure it's not even alcoholic'.

Tommy gives him a look. 'Munson,' He says, 'didn't think you graduated with us.'

The tone is sly and bitchy, but Eddie just waves him off, completely unbothered. It's Steve that reaches for Eddie's hand, beams a smile at him and says 'He's my plus one, man. Been together 9 years now, crazy how time flies, huh? '

It's only a barest moment of a second where Tommy's face crumples in on itself, but he regains composure quickly. 'Oh, right.' He says, trying for even footing in the conversation because what the fuck, Steven, 'So what do you guys do for work then?'

'I don't.' Steve said, cheerfully. 'Eddie's band more than pays the bills though, we've just gotten back from the European leg of the tour. So this...' he gestures to the room, '- is great timing for us.'

Munson's lost interest already, too busy scanning the room for whatever losers he used to hang out with. He's never liked Tommy, so it tracks. Tommy's never liked him either, the weird freak that he is...was. He has more tattoos though, Tommy can see one winding up and around his neck, and on the back of his hands. He briefly wonders whether he's got more, but tables that thought for never.

Tommy's brain was already working overtime. He didn't think that Steve had changed that much, but he's one of them? Munson, sure. That was pretty standard, even before everyone thought he was a serial killer. Hell, there was probably still graffiti with his name and the services he 'offered' on it somewhere in the building. But Steve? He times back into the conversation, hoping he's not missed much.

'-the same band, different name.' Munson's saying. 'Probably not your sort of music though, Hagans-'

'Yeah but loads of people have heard the new single, Eds. It's in the top ten.' Steve interjects, all fucking heart eyes. He turns back to them and sings the tune of something that sounds actually kind of familiar.

'Wait that's you?' Carol squeaks. 'Tyler, my brother Tyler, is like obsessed with that song, I swear on my life.'

Munson just shrugs, like her opinion is beneath him, and Tommy's blood boils. Munson's always been able to get under everyone's skin, without even trying, but Carol's his wife and there's no way he's standing for that.

But Munson's not paying him any attention, he's scribbling on a piece of paper and handing it over. 'If he wants it,' He says, 'your brother I mean.'

Then he's looking across the room and his face lights up. 'Danny P!' He yells, making a break for it and grabbing some unsuspecting guy around the shoulders, spinning him like he's a ballroom dancer. Steve's left holding his drink, but doesn't seem to mind. He just laughs, and gives Tommy an absent kind of nod. And that hurts more than anything.

'Good to see you man.' Steve says, and that's that. He follows Munson across the room and watches as he's introduced to some guy Tommy doesn't even remember.

Carol's left holding Munson's signature, his fucking autograph, like she's been frozen stiff.

'Holy shit.' She says, not even looking up at her husband. 'Tyler's gonna freak.'

Tommy doesn't even think about it for days later, until he's at work of all places. He's sitting in his office, scanning through the newspaper while he waits for his next meeting. He's certainly not expecting to see Munson's face taking up half a page in the entertainment section, with a couple of vaguely familiar faces.

CORRODED CONSCIENCE RETURN FOR ONE-OFF GIG ON HOME TURF!

He scans through the article, the usual bullshit of talking the band up, how it's good to be home, yada yada yada, but it's the caption under the picture that makes him pause.

CC (left to right): Gareth Jones (drums), Jeff Springer (guitar), Violet Cooper (vocals), Dani Jackson (bass) and Eddie Harrington (guitar).

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things ficlet #Tommy Hagan #Carol Perkins #Steddie attending Steve's reunion first because Eddie didn't graduate until '86 #third person views into their relationship is so much fun #rockstar!eddie #Hawkins not acknowledging Eddie's career (and the rest of the band) as a success story is so funny to me...the feeling is mutual tho 😂#HC that Eddie changed his name when he and Steve got 'married' in '91...because people kept asking him about 'the Munson murders' of '86 #also i think it's canon that Tommy had a crush on Steve? isn't that what the actor said? i love that for him...but he's still a dick #also...they changed the band name (vaguely) because of similar reasons...fucking satanic panic bullshit 😂

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queenimmadolla · 10 months

Note

i literally cannot stop thinking about the playgirl eddie art by sporelium!! rockstar eddie coming back to hawkins to visit old friends and finding his edition of playgirl hidden under reader’s bed ksjdjks i just need to get that out of my brainnn it’s just rattling around in there

you are so real for this bc i have to actively avoid looking at both of the pieces sporelium dropped since i always start thinking of a plot but I have 17383982829 WIPs, I CANT PICK UP ANOTHER!!! and when sporelium dropped the second one?? I wanted to throw the biggest tantrum. it’s not fair! it’s not fair! ITS NOT FAIR!!!!

all my life, i have never wanted to suffocate in bush as bad as i do when i look at those pieces. would literally just keep my face there forever, he doesn’t even have to put it in my mouth (although it WILL end up in my throat)

your old high school crush—who you never really spoke to and who became a rockstar as well as the epitome of sex comes back into town. by then you’ve made friends with his hawkins group and he takes an interest in you, but you’re much too shy, can’t really look in his direction because of how little you’ve seen him in, clothing wise. you’d purchased a copy of his Playgirl spread, had gotten yourself off to it enough times to make yourself feel ashamed.

it doesn’t help that you want to peel those tight pants off of him with your teeth because it’s big, there’s a prominent bulge pressing against his zipper at all times—and he’s wasn’t even hard. god, if you invited him over to hang out—a group invite that your friends all suddenly cancel on, last minute and one by one—and he found that magazine, the corner of it poking out from where you’d hastily shoved it under your bed and got you to admit that you touch yourself when you look at it—look at him? he’d have you on your knees for hours, forcing you to gag on it and while you’re making him feel good, he’d let you know he always carries a pair of handcuffs on him 🤤

rockstar!eddie by sporelium (1)

rockstar!eddie by sporelium (2)

#I can’t say the word c*ck cause my anti will report it 💀#I had to lay down in silence when I saw the first one #$ replies #eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson smut #giving eddie head(canons)#eddie munson smut

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months

Note

Anyone who loves Daisy Jones will be OBSESSED with runnin' with the devil by alligator_writes

runnin' with the devil by alligator_writes

@riality-check

Rating: Mature

11,299 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Pop Star Steve Harrington, Recovery, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Appalachian Eddie Munson, Rehabilitation, idk how to tag this one babes, No beta we die like Barb, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Getting Together, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives, Hurt Steve Harrington, Substance Abuse, Nightmares, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Dyslexic Steve Harrington, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Good Uncle Wayne Munson, POV Steve Harrington, POV Eddie Munson, Inspired by Daisy Jones & The Six - Taylor Jenkins Reid, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Past Drug Addiction

Summary:

"We're a metal band. We don't need a pop star to write our lyrics for us," Eddie snaps. "Yes, you do," Steve says. OR Eddie Munson is the lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin and a recovering addict having trouble writing songs again. Steve Harrington, a pop star with familiar vices and worse monsters than Eddie could ever dream of, is asked to help him out. OR The parabolic motion of fame, kickstarted by an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

Thanks for the rec!

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie munson #tw drugs #canon divergent #AU

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

Building furniture might actually be a circle of hell.

At least that’s what Eddie believes.

Steve is busy folding the clothes. There were so many clothes.

Babies needed so many clothes.

But they also needed cribs, which was what he was trying to build.

Trying being the keyword.

The instructions were terrible, and he’d given up on them 15 minutes ago. The drill he’d been using died before he even managed to need it, which meant the battery in it wasn’t charged, which meant he’d forgotten to plug it in when Steve told him to. He obviously wasn’t saying anything to Steve about that.

Steve offered to build the crib, insisting that he’d built his own bed frame and helped build a bookcase for Dustin.

But Eddie wanted to do this.

The call had come the day before, letting them know the baby was currently in the NICU and wouldn’t be released for four to five days, but could be released to them as temporary guardians if they could sign the paperwork and complete the house visit and interviews in time.

Obviously, they said yes, and it’s been a mad rush ever since.

In the mad rush, Eddie had offered to build the crib.

So here he was. Building it. Regretting his commitment. Wishing for death.

“How’s it going, Eds?”

“Great.”

He hopes the frustration can’t be heard in his tone, but Steve had been listening to his voice for almost 20 years at this point; he’s bound to catch it.

And he does.

“I can help. It’ll get done much faster if we both do it.”

“This is a one person job, sweetheart. I can do it.”

“Uh huh.”

Eddie looked at the screws and bolts and 2x4s currently in a pile in front of him and then up at Steve smiling at the clothes in his hand.

He thought about how long they’d waited for this, how Steve had given up on his big family dreams to be with Eddie and let him have his big dream of being a rockstar first.

How even when he finally stopped recording and touring, they still faced the fact that most places wouldn’t let them adopt together. That the world still didn’t think they could be good parents despite having everything a child would need in abundance. Especially love.

They both wanted this and both waited for this, but Eddie knew Steve was in heaven.

It was all he wanted for so long, and now it was happening, and happening so soon.

They were going to be parents.

They were going to have a daughter.

Eddie stood up suddenly and walked over to Steve, who paused what he was doing and looked at him with his brows furrowed, concern overtaking his features that were previously so relaxed.

Eddie pulled him into a kiss, one hand gliding through his hair to the back of his head, keeping him in place with his other hand on his hip.

When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against Steve’s, smiling at him.

“Will you help me build the crib?”

Steve looked at him with those beautiful wide eyes, the same ones he’d fallen into in 1986 and never emerged from.

“You want my help?”

“I want us to do this together.”

Steve bit his lip, nodded, and placed a soft kiss to the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“We should get started, then.”

“I did start.”

“Baby, you’ve emptied the box and thrown away the instructions. That’s not starting.”

“Hey! I also separated the pieces that match!”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his smile said he was amused.

“You’re right. You did great, Eds.”

“Thank you. Now, don’t be mad, but the drill isn’t charged.”

Steve blinked at him, grabbed the drill, and flipped the switch on the bottom to ‘on.’

He pushed in the button.

It turned on.

“Oh.”

“Thank God you’re hot.”

“I helped save the world!”

“But a baby crib is what’s gonna take you out.”

Eddie smirked.

“You could take me out.”

Steve was busy looking at the pieces on the floor, but still responded.

“If you actually help me, I’ll take you for milkshakes after, how about that?”

“Bribery works. Deal.”

It took hours, and it probably shouldn’t have, but Eddie didn’t mind.

When Steve sat on his lap, staring at the crib pushed into the corner of the nursery, tears in his eyes, he didn’t think Steve minded all that much either.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #future fic #rockstar Eddie Munson is mentioned but not a single detail is given #Steve Harrington wants to be a mom so bad #domestic fluff #in my own canon Eddie is useless with tools #Steve is also useless but less so #Wayne gets called frequently to help #but they do this by themselves because they’re basking in the glow

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starman-jpg · 5 months

Text

Dirty Little Secret

WC: 4k | TW: None that I can think of

Hey! Long time since I posted something I actually wrote.

Had this idea after listening to this song actually. It sounded fun.

This is not beta read. I would be curious if anyone would want to beta read anything I make before I post it.

If there are any errors, lets pretend like we didn't seem them. Cool?

And for the first time since I got my account, this will be posted on ao3! So feel free to read it here if you want.

Title from "Dirty Little Secret" by The All-American Rejects

Eddie is in Chicago, which is weird.

He’s been to Chicago before. He’s played shows before and has gone clubbing here. That’s not the weird part. It’s weird that he is here and is not expected to do… well, anything.

He’s on a break from performing for a while. He and the band decided it was about time to relax for the first time in years. They’ve been touring on and off for 5 years and making albums in between so it was time to take a well earned break.

Gareth, Jeff and Grant all decided to go back to Hawkins to see their families. They all were going to go to Hawkins originally but Eddie backed out at the last minute.

He was scared to go back. Not because of monsters or anything. But because he didn’t want to run into him.

He doesn’t know what he would say if he ran into him. Probably some dumb shit that would end up with him heartbroken more or looking like a total idiot. Or both.

So obviously, in order to avoid that situation, he decided to go to Chicago.

Chicago is not bad, he likes Chicago. He originally moved to Chicago from Hawkins for a couple months before they all got discovered and moved to LA.

So Chicago is great. But it's not Hawkins. He misses his Uncle Wayne and the kids, who were most definitely not kids anymore. And especially S- Nope! Can’t think about him now. Not now, he needs to relax.

He walks aimlessly around the city before stopping at a small venue with a line out the door. He asked the people around about who’s playing.

He learned that they are a semi-local band with a good following. The front man is drop-dead gorgeous, if the girl's squealing was anything to go by.

Color Eddie intrigued, he’s going to see this band.

He waited in line, got his last minute ticket and was let into the venue. It was small, but nice. Eddie remembered playing at venues like this. There was a stage already filled with instruments, a huge standing area and balcony area, and a bar that was fully stocked.

Eddie gladly took advantage of the bar, getting a beer and headed towards the front of the stage. He didn’t have to be on the barricade, but he’d like to be close. Be in the crowd and enjoy the whole experience.

After a while of waiting, his beer half gone, the lights on stage come to life as the song starts and the crowd goes wild (it spooks Eddie honestly). Eddie looks at the band and freezes when he sees Robin Buckley behind the drums.

When did she join a band?

Shit. Is he here?

He looks frantically around the venue, trying to find that familiar head of hair.

And as if God himself was enjoying his pain, a familiar voice rings through the venue.

Let me know that I’ve done wrong

When I’ve known this all along

I go around a time or two

Just to waste my time with you

Eddie faces the stage and his breath is instantly stolen from his lungs.

Steve

He- he looks fantastic.

Tight black jeans that hug all of Eddie’s favorite parts of him. A sleeveless shirt that reveals a generous bit of skin and some of his scars- oh shit, is that a tattoo?

He squints, acting like that will help him see. Steve raises his arm, pushing his hair back and sure enough, there is something on Steve’s ribs that he can’t make out this far away.

His eyes snap to his face to see a small stud in Steve’s nose. His gaze moves to Steve’s eyes that were lined with black.

Suddenly those beautiful, hazel eyes that he’s memorized look straight at him.

Steve, for the most part, doesn’t look surprised and looks away back at the crowd, singing the chorus and bouncing around stage, clearly having fun if that smile says anything.

Steve moves across the stage, singing and kneels in front of the stage, letting the screaming girls, and a couple guys, touch his hand and up his arm. Steve quickly moves away before he is bodily dragged into the crowd, laughing as he sings.

The chorus goes again and everyone is jumping around, and those who know the lyrics are singing along. Steve smiles, pulls the mic off the stand, and walks along the edge of the stage singing.

The way he feels inside (inside)

Those thoughts I can’t deny (deny)

These sleeping dogs won’t lie (won’t lie)

And all I’ve tried to hide

It’s eating me apart

Trace this line back

Steve holds out the last note, head bent back showing off the veins that pop out of his very biteable neck, before he smiles and dances around the stage some more. His hair is a mess. A very, very hot mess.

Wait. Did Steve say ‘he’?

He ends up in front of Eddie’s section again, once again looking at him.

Steve signals and the instruments back off a little as Steve brings the mic to him, almost whispering into it, not breaking eye contact.

I’ll keep you my dirty little secret (dirty little secret)

Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret (just another regret)

Steve winks, fucking winks, as he jumps back to the middle of the stage, to finish off the song.

I’ll keep you my dirty little secret

Don’t tell anyone or you’ll be just another regret

(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)

My dirty little secret , dirty little secret

Dirty little secret, who has to know?

Steve whips around to where Eddie is and shrugs,

Who has to know?

The song ends and the crowd erupts in ear shattering cheers.

Steve laughs happily, waving to everyone and thanking them.

Steve talks a little, welcoming everyone and even introducing the band before they start another song.

The energy is high throughout the whole night. Steve owns the stage. Singing and dancing. And when he pulls out his guitar and starts playing… Well, Eddie is trying his best not to lose it.

The show ends and the crowd starts shuffling out, but Eddie can’t seem to move his legs.

When did this all happen? When did Steve become the front man of a band? When did Steve learn the guitar?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a rough tap on his shoulder.

“Are you Eddie Munson?” A security guard asks. Eddie slowly nods. “Cool. The band has requested to see you. Follow me.” And the guard walks off, not waiting for Eddie.

Eddie, finally remembering how to walk, rushes to catch up with the guard who snakes around the back and shows Eddie to the green room. The guard knocks on the door and opens it, announcing Eddie’s arrival. After confirmation, he steps back and allows Eddie to shuffle past him into the room.

He walks in and is instantly bombarded by two very familiar faces.

“Henderson! Little Wheeler! Holy shit hey!” They all hug, laughing.

Mike steps back first, patting Eddie on the pack, “Eddie! Holy shit it's great seeing you again.”

Dustin nods, “Yeah, man, it’s been years. How’s everything? How’s your band?”

“Oh! Yeah, it’s great. Everything’s great. The band is just taking a small break to prepare a new album.” He smiles, “I didn’t- I didn’t see you guys out there.”

“I work behind the scenes, y’know. Audio stuff for the band. And Mike was on stage. You didn’t see him?” Dustin asks.

“On- on stage. Holy shit Little Wheeler, coming very far from our first lesson.”

Mike ducks his head, blushing a little, “Yeah well, had a great teacher, didn’t I?” He gently nudges Eddie, “And when you left, Steve helped.”

Steve helped?

“Steve, yeah. Where- where is he? And Buckley! I saw her behind the drums.”

Dustin was about to answer as the door opened behind him. Eddie turns around and sees Robin enter, “My ears are ringing. Are you talking shit Munson?” She asks playfully, a small smile on her lips.

“Never Lady Buckley, c’mere.” He opens his arms and Robin throws herself at him, laughing as he rocks them side-to-side.

They break apart, “When did you learn how to play? You were so good!” He asks, smiling.

“Aw, thanks Munson, high praise from you. Um, probably like 4 years? Almost 5. I don’t know, it was Steve’s idea. But I enjoy it. Gets rid of all the extra energy, y’know?” She backs up to the couch and sits down, Mike sitting next to her, grabbing his guitar and strumming it idly.

“You were great. You both were great. All of you were great. Um, where is the rest of your band?” He asks sheepishly.

“Another part is behind you.” A snippy voice comes from behind him.

“Max?!” Eddie shouts, and when he turns around, sure enough the little red head is behind him, smirking. “You’re in the band too?”

She nods, walking to sit next to Robin on the arm of the couch. “Last time I checked.”

Dustin, who was checking all the equipment, turns around, slightly waving off Eddie, “Don’t mind him Max. He only recognized Robin and Steve. Didn’t even realize Mike was on stage either.”

Robin looks over at Eddie, her eyebrows raised, a knowing little smile spreading across her face.

Eddie blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Huh… yeah, sorry. But- but you all did so good! I was really impressed.”

They all thank him and continue catching up. Talking about how Eddie and his band are doing. How he’s doing, specifically. They talk for what feels like hours, but is only really 30 minutes.

The whole time, Steve is nowhere to be seen. Eddie is getting a bit antsy.

“Where-” His voice cracks and he quickly clears his throat, “Where’s Steve?”

The kids (are they considered kids still?) look towards Robin. Robin, who clearly was dreading this question, panics.

“He’s, um, he…” Her eyes flit around the room before landing behind Eddie, “Oh thank god.” She whispers, mostly to herself.

Eddie was about to question her before that same voice from tonight comes from behind him.

“Hey, Munson.”

Eddie turns around and again, the air is gone from his lungs.

Steve.

Did he say that outloud, please tell him he didn’t say that outloud.

Steve is in front of him. Actually in front of him. Within reaching distance of him. He could take two steps and be in his arms.

If they were still together… of course.

“Steve… uh, uh… hi.”

Hi?

Seriously Munson, that’s the best you could come up with after 5 years of not seeing the one man that’s been plaguing your mind since you left.

Steve laughs softly, smiling, “Hi.”

Oh! He’s smiling. That perfect, breathtaking smile.

“Hi.” Eddie cringes at himself, where was all his sauve-ness? This is not being really suave-y.

Steve takes another step into the room, still smiling (good sign), “I think we’ve established that we’ve greeted each other.”

Eddie softly laughs, nodding, “Yeah, of course. Um, you were…”

Great. Fantastic. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Hot. So hot that I can’t keep my thoughts straight (no pun intended).

Steve smirks at him, waiting. What was he waiting for? Right! Finish the goddamn sentence.

“Fantastic.” He shouts, startling Steve, “Sorry. Um, you were fantastic.”

Steve laughs again and nods, “Thanks.” Steve looks up and catches Eddie’s eyes.

They’re just looking at each other and everything just seems to be Steve and him.

Steve and Eddie.

Oh, how he wishes they could be Steve and Eddie again.

Someone clears their voice and breaks the two boys' trance with each other.

Eddie turns and sees Robin and the rest getting off the couch.

“We,” Robin gestures to the rest of the band, “are going to go… pack up! Yeah! We’re gonna pack up, you two stay here. Catch up. And we’ll… pack. Yeah…” She finishes off lamely before the four of them quickly rush out of the room, slamming the door behind them.

There is awkwardness between them before Steve sits on the couch, gesturing for Eddie to join him.

“So!” Eddie starts, trying to break the awkwardness, “You’re in a band. That’s new.”

Steve laughs, music to Eddie’s ears, and nods, “Yeah, um, decided to make one. I wrote down a lot of things, lyrics. I made them into songs in my free time and showed them to Robin. She loved them. Said I should sing them for people.” He laughs again, shaking his head like he’s remembering that day specifically. “She signed me up for an open mic, so I couldn’t back down.” He shrugs, looking at Eddie, “People liked them I guess. Got some requests to come back.

Eddie nods, “Robin said you told her to try the drums?”

“Obviously, if I was going to sing, she was going to be with me and she absolutely kills on drums. I tried to teach her some chords on guitar, but she would mess up then freak out in her little Robin way, y’know?. Drums were easier for her, the repetitiveness of it all. At least, that’s what she tells me.”

“And Mike and Max?”

“Ah, well Mike was, um, sad, when you left. He was going to give up guitar since ‘the best guitar teacher in Hawkins’ left. His words, not mine. I ended up helping him too. And Max always wanted to learn the bass. So I helped her out too. We ended up jamming a lot together and the rest is history I suppose.”

“You-” Eddie stops, struggling to find the words, “I- I never knew you played guitar.”

“Ah, yeah. Well,” Steve shrugs, “I kinda grew up playing a lot. Loved it. About Middle School I had to stop. My dad didn’t like that I spent most of my time playing music then sports. Said music for idiots who didn’t stand a chance in the real world. So he signed me up for baseball, basketball, and swimming. Didn’t have much time to play. And I liked sports enough, so it wasn’t torture.” Steve plays with the edge of his shirt nervously, “When you left, I picked it back up.”

Eddie nods, “You never told me. We could’ve played together.”

Steve sighs, “Yeah, well. You never asked.” Steve shrugs again, trying to smile but it did not come through.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. You didn’t know.”

Eddie nods, looking at his shoes that could use a good clean.

It’s this that Eddie really wanted to avoid. The awkwardness. Acting like they don’t know how each other feels or tastes. It’s torture.

“That song,” Eddie starts, worried, “The one you started with. Is- Was it about… us?”

Smooth Eddie. Real smooth.

Steve looks around the room, anywhere but Eddie and nods, “Yeah. It is.”

“Oh.”

Steve turns to Eddie, causing Eddie to fully look up now, “It-” Steve huffs and starts again, “It helped me. I mean… I couldn’t tell anyone, anything, y’know?. So, I channeled it into something where I could sing it, and no one knew who it was about.”

“No one knows?” Eddie says, unintentionally sounding relieved.

Steve rolls his eyes and turns back towards the door, “Yeah Eddie. No one knows, your secret is still safe. Don’t worry.”

Shit! He’s screwing this up.

“No! No, no, no. Not like that! Just surprised, is all. Thought you would tell Robin at least.” He tries to joke, which instantly falls and dies on the floor.

“Figured if you didn’t want people knowing we were a thing together, probably wouldn’t like me telling everyone we were ever a thing.” Steve states like it's a fact, “Plus, your name started getting out there. Didn’t need a scandal so early on.”

“Oh, cool. Thanks.” Eddie cringes, he’s doing this all wrong. Shit, he needs to be fixing this.

Steve scoffs and shakes his head, “Yeah, no problem.”

“You could’ve, um, told people… told Robin.” He says sheepishly, hoping it was the right thing to say. It wasn’t.

Steve gets up from the couch, clearly angry, and turns to look at him. “So, after we were together, I could’ve told people. Great Munson. Thanks for that.”

Eddie goes to say something but it’s cut off quickly by a still fuming Steve.

“Eddie, you kept me a secret. For months. No one knew about us! I tried. I tried to just meet your friends, said we could just say we were friends but you freaked until I backed down. I tried dropping stuff off at your trailer when you were sick and you freaked out, saying how people could see me there. How the hell is that supposed to make me feel?

“And I understand, we lived in a small town. But I wasn’t asking for you to kiss me in the middle of town. I was asking you to trust me when I said I knew people who would accept us and protect us if anything got out. But you said no.

“And it got me thinking. Maybe it’s not because you’re scared. But maybe because it was me.” A tear rolls down Steve’s face, but before Eddie could even think of wiping it away, Steve did it. “I know I was an asshole in high school. But I tried so damn hard to be a better person. I tried so hard to change. And I did change. But it wasn’t enough. Not for you.”

“Steve…”

“Did you ever tell anyone Eddie?” Steve stares at him, anger behind his eyes, and a little bit of hope.

Hope that maybe Eddie did tell someone. Hope that Eddie did love him, but he was just scared of the consequences of society and not because Steve was the problem.

Eddie froze, and that gave Steve his answer.

“Of course you didn’t. Didn’t even say we were friends.” Steve shakes his head, crossing his arms and moving further away from him.

“I’m sorry. I- I did want people to know, eventually, but…”

“You left.” Steve finishes for him, void of emotion. “You left Eddie. We argued that night before. I was tired of hiding and I just wanted to tell Robin, but you freaked. So we argued and you stormed out of my house. You left my house. You left Hawkins.” Steve sniffles and looks at him, “You left me.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Stop!” Steve shouts, running his hands through his hair, frustrated, “Stop saying you’re sorry. It’s way too late. No one heard from you for 5 years! All we knew is what the news said. We saw you rise to fame and we thought you moved on from us. So we accepted that. I accepted that!” Steve yells, trying his best not to let tears fall.

“I wanted to come back. I swear, I wanted to come back. I thought about coming back so much. I thought about coming back to-”

“But you didn’t!” Steve yells again, “You never came back.”

Steve looks around, trying to discreetly wipe his face, “Leave, Eddie. You need to leave.”

Eddie freezes, “Steve…”

“Leave.” Steve says sternly, not even looking at Eddie.

Eddie nods, he looks up, begging his tears to not fall. He starts for the door in quick strides, wanting to get out of there fast. As he reaches for the door knob he stops.

He can’t leave. He knew this could end badly, but he’s not running off. Not again.

He hears Steve scoff, “Eddie, seriously. You need to leave. Right-”

“2,157!” Eddie shouts fast, turning around to see Steve staring at him.

“What?”

“2,157. I have thought of nothing but you for 2,157 days.”

Steve still looks confused. Eddie steps towards him, itching to grab Steve’s hand, but thinks better of it.

“There has never been a single day where I haven’t thought of you. Your hair. Your eyes. Your smile. Your laugh… I always thought of you, every fucking day.”

A small tear falls down Steve’s face. Eddie hesitantly reaches out and cups Steve’s face, gently wiping away the tear with his thumb.

“I’m sorry.” He continues, making sure Steve is looking at him, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t strong enough for us. I was scared. And I ran away the moment I could. And that was so, so, so shitty of me.” He sniffles, feeling his own tears run down his face, “I understand if you want me to leave and never come back. I will. It would break me, but I will. But I can’t leave without telling you…” He looks at the hopeful look in Steve’s eyes, “I love you, Steve Harrington. I always loved you. From the beginning.

“I shouldn't've made you keep us a secret. I should’ve taken your hand and kissed you senseless in the streets of Hawkins. Who would’ve cared? I would’ve been happy to be seen with you. But, I was too much of a coward too. I should’ve showered you in all the love that I felt for you back then. I should’ve made you feel like no one else would ever love you as much as I did. I should’ve made you happy. And, I’m so, so sorry that I ever made you feel less than that.”

Steve stayed frozen, more tears falling down his face.

“Y-you loved me?” Steve croaks out, still looking at Eddie.

Eddie smiles, nodding his head, “Uh huh, still do.” Eddie gently ghosts his thumbs over Steve’s bottom lip, “Still do.”

Steve smiles, letting out a breathy laugh.

“I love you, Steve Harrington. So, so much that it kills me.”

Steve goes quiet. Eddie feels like he catapulted across the line and tries to step back, taking his hand away from Steve’s face. But a hand shoots up and keeps Eddie right where he is.

Eddie looks up at Steve again

“I love you too.” He whispers, even though they are the only ones in the room, “God Eddie, I love you so much.”

Eddie’s shoulders relax and he smiles big, bringing his other hand to hold Steve’s face. “Yeah?” He asks softly.

“Yeah… I love you.”

Eddie smiles and goes to kiss him before stopping. “I- I can kiss you right? Please say I can kiss you.”

“Please, Eddie kiss-”

Eddie doesn’t wait and immediately surges forward to capture his lips. He was expecting something hot and heavy. But it wasn’t that.

It was better.

It was the slow movement of lips together. Something that was laced with love that they have been keeping in for years. Just the gentle slide of lips that did not seek to go further. It felt like it lasted forever, but it was only a couple minutes before they pulled apart and just stared at each other.

“I’m not running away. Not this time. I want you Steve. I need you. And-and if you’ll have me, I’ll make sure I never hurt you. I will hold your hand and-and kiss you in front of the world. And we can tell everyone about us, because I want everyone in this world to know about us and see how happy we make each other.”

“You’re kind of famous Eddie, the world would quite literally know about us. And we still need to be safe. I don’t want you to jeopardize your career-”

“Screw it! Screw it all! If people don’t like that I’m with another man, that sucks for them. But I’m not hiding us. Not again.”

“Eddie…” Steve softly says, as if he’s trying to make Eddie see this logically (which he will not, thank you very much).

“Nope! You can’t change my mind. If my label drops the band we’ll find a new one- or we’ll create one. I have the money. I just… I can’t lose you again.”

Steve searches his eyes and smiles, “You’re serious? You’d jeopardize your career- your dream- for me?”

“It's not a dream if you’re not there Stevie.”

Steve moves and kisses him again, more passionately this time.

“Okay.” Steve says, breaking apart.

“Okay?” Eddie asks, “You want this? You want me?”

Steve smiles, nodding, “It was always you Eds. No one else.”

Eddie laughs and picks up Steve, spinning around. Steve’s laugh fills the air and Eddie could not be happier than in this moment.

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hellcheerficdatabase · 9 months

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Cruisin’ Mulholland Highway

Author: @deathinasmalltown

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/1 (Part 1 of HellCheer Heavy Metal HEA series)

Description:

“No. Absolutely not.” Chrissy shakes her head viciously at her husband as she stands in their expansive driveway in the Hollywood Hills. “Take it back.”

“Baaabbyyy,” Eddie whines as he sits atop his shiny, new, Harley Davidson Fat Boy.

“Don’t baby me,” Chrissy wags a finger at him as she sways back and forth, trying to calm their one year old daughter, who’s saddled on her hip and on the verge of a meltdown after refusing her afternoon nap. “It’s a death contraption, Eddie.”

Tags: Alternate Universe- canon divergence, alternate universe- no vecna, Rockstar!Eddie, married, established relationship, smut, shamelessly smutty, domestic fluff, what is plot? we only know p*rn, Chrissy POV, one-shot, part of a series, status: Completed

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pez-and-quiet · 11 months

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Sweetheart (Rockstar!Eddie x MusicStar!Steve)

Steve is new to the music industry, he had worked as a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for six years after Venca, but now he's basically got his name in lights wherever he goes. Everything went by in a flash when it happened, the phone call saying he got the record deal, the congratulations from his friends and moving to New York with Robin. Now he was about to go on his own tour for his album “Sweetheart”, the album he had written for Eddie. (all steves songs are taylor swift songs)

Eddie’s been in the music industry for eight years now, he’s learned the ins and outs and all the ways to work the system. THe only thing is he isn’t exactly “Eddie Munson” in the industry. After everything that happened in Hawkins. The murder accusations, Chrissy’s death, Vecna. He couldn’t handle being Eddie anymore, the doc Hopper had introduced him to had set up an alternative life for Eddie after he reached out three months in Hawkins. Now he had his new band and a new life as Darren Mack. Their band Raining Hellfire was world famous and they were about to go on tour.

Dear Eddie, With Love... A Collection Of Letters

A collection of letters written to Edward "Eddie" Munson of Corroded Coffin during his 4 month coma in 1986. These letters were written from friends and family when they were struggling with their losses and the fear they would lose Edward as well. This collection was published in 1996 after Edward came out as gay and announced his queer relationship with well known human rights activist Steven "Steve" Harrington.

The Aftermath

A bunch of one-shots that will come together in one holiday party ending

Nancy Is Dead (WIP Name)

Ronance, Steddie, hopper wants to adopt evryone, protective Steve.

Jason beats up robin for being gay and visiting Nancy's grave on their aniverity.

A Bullet Through My Heart (no full description yet)

during season 4, ronance, hinted steddie, mad robin, miscommunication, robin nancy fight, very emotional

Don't Mess With My Best Friend:

When Robin shows up at Steve's door covered in blood and bruises, he panics. His dad never let them keep a first aid kit in the house so he has no way to help his best friend. This leads him to call in a favour from Chief of Police Jim Hopper, who knows that Steve dosen't live in a great environment.

Steve nurses Robin back to health while trying to figure out who beat up this best friend and deals with his own trauma from his problematic father.

Also Nancy is dead :)

Trust Me I Love You:

A collection of our favourite people proving to their favourite people that they love them platonically, romantically and everything in between.

Fuck You Munson (havent started writing)

Steve's about to start his the tour for his first album Sweetheart when Eddie Munson gets brought back into the conversation. Steve still hasnt forgiven him for packing up and leaving in the middle of the night and dosent want to. Steve just wants to enjoy his tour with Robin and his fans.

Eddie's never been one to keep up with new artist but when he hears Steve Harrington said over the radio it pulls him from his current downward spiral. He's stopped smoking, any drop of alcohol is gone from his apartment. Eddie's biggest regret was leaving Steve now he had a chance to fix it.

Everything goes down hill when Steve find out their venue has been double booked and he now has to do a show with Eddie and his new band Raining Hellfire.

#steddie #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #byler #ronance #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #lesbian pride #gayness #rockstar!eddie munson #music star steve harrington #polls #sweetheart minific #international byler day #byler is canon #byler won’t write itself #byler wip

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broke-art-girl · 17 days

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Robeddie headcanons?

Ahhhhhhhhh my boiiii my babys my baby boysssssss ahhhhhh more of thissssss pleaseee!!!! (Also the ship is Roddie)

Even tho in "the show" Eddie and Rob never get to confess to each other, I still have head canons for "fanfics" lol this idea is odd but it's fine.

Robertt W 🫶 Eddie M:

• Eddie is touchy, he will play punch, bap, boop, bonk, bite, hug, tickle, pinch, poke, or do anything he can to Rob because he will sit there and take it.

• Rob likes Eddies cologne and used to say he had to use the bathroom and just go smell it.

• Rob is a skinny little stick and Eddie is decently buff so Eddie will pick him up and move him if he won't move himself.

• Eddie had a vegetarian phase but he likes bacon too much to keep it up. He did cut out fish tho. The only time Rob would ever think to taste meat is if it were on Eddie's lips. That would be his cheat, and it would have to be bacon.

• Rob was devastated when he found out Eddie got held back. He cried and cried and the second time it happened it was 10× worse. He was so depressed he wouldn't wanna go to school. He just wanted to stay at Eddie's place with him.

• Him and Eddie used to be the only D&D nerds in town until he converted Mike who converted his friends then they converted more people. When Mike got old enough Rob made him promise to hang out with Eddie all he could and be part of Hellfire. Basically threatened him to.

• Why would two 16 year old boys would wanna stay sleep in the same bed when there's a pull out sofa? And why are they comfortable changing and bathing together?... Because their besties. No other reason.

• Eddie Munson wasn't always called Eddie, he used to go by "Ed". Eddie was a Robertt thing. Same thing with "Rob," Eddie called him "Robbie," but after he moved off to college the people there thought it was a bit childish.

• (rockstar au) Eddie wrote a song about Rob called "Youngster interlude." which is what Wayne use to call Rob. People think It's about parents and kids but it's not."When the seasons change again, I will still be cold. Wake me up in summer. Be my sweet little Youngster."

🌶️ Spicy below:

• They both have RP kinks

• Eddie likes being called "master"

• Riding or missionary is Robs favorite. Eddie's is doggy.

• Eddie will praise Rob till he's whimpering.

• Rob likes Collars

• Eddie likes Robs skin. He has no scars, moles, or tattoos. Just crystal white and soft.

• Eddie likes that he can throw him around.

• The van or the living room floor is their most used spot but they like the bed, if they can make there.

#teen writer #stranger things #eddie munson #Robertt 'Rob' Wheeler #oc x eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #asks open #working on asks #plz be patient #send me asks #<3 anon #send asks #asks #my oc character #timothée chalamet #fancast #head canon

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mmunson86 · 4 months

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So I just got done reading the latest chapter of POF by @purplehazed-h and this is exactly how I envision Eddie during the very last part of the chapter like once y’all get to it just remember this clip because my heart I don’t know if I’ll ever recover 🥹🫶🏻😭

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson canon #rockstar eddie munson x you #rockstar!eddie x you #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie x female reader

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trashmouth-richie · 7 months

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Series summary: Hawkins Annual Halloween Festival is in town, and this year you and your friends were lucky enough to work the event. But when some of your co-workers are missing, and a trail of blood leads to the woods behind the festival. Your friends work together to find out what’s going on. A killer is on the loose but who could it be? Or is it the town’s spooky secret of what really happened at Hawkins Lab?

ch 2: A SCREAM AND A SLICE

ch 3: THE ROCKSTAR AND THE RED LIGHTS

ch 4: FAMILY VALUES

series trigger warnings: blood, character death, murder, smut, p in v, drinking & smoking pot, themes of misuse of prescription pills, character killer, stranger things canon events, light mentions of domestic abuse, neglect, etc.

BUY TICKETS

PROMO FLYER

part 1 summary: a movie night with friends ends with a very scared Nancy and you and your best friend getting high in your room, when the lights flicker across town— you + Eddie brush it off as nothing— because Hawkins Indiana has always been a little strange.

FLICKER

The popcorn bowl in your lap is nearly empty, only brown kernels left to shift noisily as Eddie’s hand scrapes around the bowl in chase of one last piece of the buttery snack.

Your eyes are glued to the screen, breath hitched in your throat as you watch Michael Myers stalk down the street. Even though you’ve seen it a dozen times, it still gets to you. Something about the rubbery, expressionless mask he dons as he chases and slashes through people's skin just rubs you the wrong way.

“Ohhh fuck!” Eddie gleams, Michael’s knife cutting through Annie’s throat, “did ya see that?!”

“Trying not to,” Nancy muffles, her face buried into the broad shoulder of Steve, small hand clasped around her eyes, Steve’s arms pulling her closer into him.

Movie nights in the Wheeler basement were a typical Friday for your group of friends. Something that you weren’t sure would continue to happen after you, Eddie and Steve graduated this past May. Being waitlisted for your dream school put your endeavors on hold and neither one of them had any grand plans of leaving Hawkins, especially since Steve and Nancy had rekindled their on-again-off-again relationship.

Currently they were on again, and dipping into near pornography whenever they thought no one was watching or listening.

“I gotcha,” Steve purred into Nancy’s mouse brown hair, rubbing her back, “c’mon Munson, turn this shit off.”

“No!” You and Eddie both say at once.

He smirks at you. The same dimpled closed mouth grin he had given you since you were thirteen years old. He clears his throat, “It’s almost over anyway.”

Eddie’s love for movies and music came at a young age. Anything to keep his mind busy while his parent’s fought. Anything to keep the noise of the screen door slapping shut as his mom fled their trailer again, his dad hot on her heels and swinging a fist through the dark night trying to make contact. Anything to drown out the noise and squeal of her tires kicking up rocks and dead grass against the aluminum trailer as she sped away, this time for the last time— without him.

He was your friend before his mom had left and any of that had started, and he had spent more nights sleeping on your couch than he had his own bed. You were comfortable with Eddie in ways that girls shouldn’t be with their best friends who were boys. But you could care less. It was always, and forever would be, platonic between you and Eddie Munson.

Reaching over the laps of both Eddie and Steve, you tug Nancy’s shirt until she peeks over Steve’s collar. You mouth bathroom? And she nods, getting up and following you, trying not to trip over a very drunk Robin or passed out Johnathan.

The light in the bathroom does absolutely nothing for Nancy’s complexion, playing on the peaked look of her skin and illuminating dark circles under her eyes that you normally had not seen. She sits on the sink and holds her arms against her chest as you finish up, washing your hands next to her.

“How can you guys watch that stuff?” She half whispers and sniffs, rubbing a petite hand under her red nose.

Drying your hands, you shrug, hanging the towel back up on the hook, looking back at your reflection and fixing your smudged eyeliner, “it’s just a movie Nance,” you say to her through the mirror, “besides, the possibility of something like that happening in Hawkins, are pretty damn slim.”

She shakes her head of ill thoughts, “yeah, o-‘f course, I just,” a chill runs through her, tickling her spine and making her skin goosebump, “the thought of it is… scary.”

“I think that’s the whole point.”

Opening the door, Steve audibly gasps at the next jump scare, and Eddie claps along hooting and hollering as Michael’s next victim joins the dead.

“I hate Halloween,”she mutters to herself, hopping down from the sink following you out to your friends.

Nancy spent the remainder of the movie with a lamp on, reading over her English paper for Mrs. Click’s class that was due in a few weeks, huffing in disapproval at either the movie or her paper you weren’t sure.

Robin wedges her way onto the couch with the four of you, whisper yelling about how stupid the characters are and how none of it makes any sense.

“You’re ruining it Buckley, shh!” Eddie says, placing a ringed hand over her mouth. And you can’t help but laugh at them both.

Robin licked the flat of his palm, her signature move, and Eddie squealed in disgust, “fucks sake Robin.”

“Aww,” Robin says, squeezing his cheeks with her long chip painted fingers, “don’t be jealous Eddie-bear.. you probably won’t know this but that smell is puss— ow!”

Your elbow digs into her ribs, “shh!” you sneer,

The ending credits roll and Eddie’s on his feet, ejecting the tape and slotting it into the paper protector. “Who’s up for the second one?”

He groans when the entire room yells no. Pouting and shoving the tape into his backpack. “What about you Byers?” he asks, kicking Jonathan’s leg to bring him back to life.

“Huh?” he asks through a yawn, rubbing his shocking red eyes, “nah man I’m cool, need to get home, mom is working late and Will’s by himself.”

He tosses the pillow he was using into the arm chair and trudges up the steps, saying see ya laters and thanks as he leaves.

Eddie shoots you a wink and you stand reaching for the blankets you were cuddling with and fold them neatly onto the couch.

Robin stumbles up the stairs behind Jonathan, trying to score a ride so she doesn't have to walk the three blocks to her place completely drunk.

Steve pulls Nancy in his lap. She’s whispering to him with tears brimming her bright blue eyes, but you can’t hear what she’s saying.

“Yeah, c’mon” he whispers against her hairline, holding her up so they can both stand, “still have your toothbrush at mine… hey, we’re going to my place,” he announces to you and Eddie, just turn the lights off and we’ll see you tomorrow for opening day right?”

The Annual Hawkins Halloween Carnival was in town, and after two years of working the county fair in Roane County, you had all been asked to work at the carnival this fall.

The carnival schedule was the weekend before Halloween to the weekend of Halloween.

Seven days of thrills and chills. Pumpkin carving, face painting, a corn maze that seemed to go for miles, the best food in the Midwest, and finally the usual carnival rides with a sick twist of Halloween themed frights.

Orientation was last week Saturday and Sunday a grueling 7am-7pm both days. Mr. Creel went over expectations and rules for you as staff to follow.

It seemed easy enough. You and Eddie were put on rides just like you had been all summer. Nancy and Argyle were in charge of games, Tina and one of her cheerleader friends were doing the pumpkin carving.

Steve and Robin would be set up in a small booth sponsored by Scoops Ahoy from morning until 5 pm, later taking over on rides for Eddie while he and Corroded Coffin made their debut on stage at night.

Steve was still pissed that they were insistent on him wearing the blue sailor uniform, even though the mall burned down last July— they managed to have Mrs. Sinclair sew the outfit for him.

Jonathan would help Argyle and Nancy with the nickel and dime games, ones designed to have parents shell out pockets of change to have their kids possibly win a stuffed animal that wasn’t even worth an entire dollar.

Billy Hargrove— who you were certain fled town after the mall fire, was apparently still in Hawkins and now in charge of the haunted hay ride at night and the corn maze during the day.

Him and Eddie used to be close during his senior year, but it all fell apart and you weren’t really sure why. When you asked, Eddie would shrug it off, claiming he had changed after graduation, and that was that.

You were surprised that the staff was minimal even though the festival was bigger and had more events going on than the summer carnival did, but you didn’t want to jinx your chances of working for it next year. Rumor was, Creel paid double for the Halloween event, Eddie called it the chance of a lifetime, and you knew it’d be stupid to mess it up by asking questions.

“Thanks for letting me stay again,” Eddie mumbles after you toss him the sleeping bag from your closet, “didn’t know he’d be home tonight.”

After you had drove home from Nancy’s you had barely gotten into your room when your phone rang, it was Eddie and he was at the payphone outside of Benny’s.

It’s me, can I stay over?

you didn’t think twice, telling Eddie yes and hanging up the phone.

His dad had been released from county two weeks ago after Eddie finally scraped enough bail money together to get him out. He swore this was the last time he’d do it but you knew better than that.

Eddie was a lot of things but he wouldn’t let his dad rot in some cell. Even though he deserved every single second of being there.

Al Munson had been in and out of jail since you could remember, petty crimes this and grand theft auto that. He was hardly a stable male figure for Eddie.

But to the doe eyed boy with brown curly hair— Al hung the moon.

It nearly killed Wayne Munson to see Eddie stick up for his old man, but he still offered his home to Al whenever he came through town on his next stunt, bleeding Eddie’s pockets dry and taking every emotional spark left in him when he tore out of the driveway, just before the blue and red lights could follow.

“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug tossing him one of your pillows, “you know you’re more than welcome here, anytime.”

Even though your parents hated the idea, you moved into the old apartments across town the week after graduation. Full of naive wonder and wanting some privacy you worked all the hours you could between Meldvald’s and Bradley’s Big Buy, earning just enough to have a couple hundred dollars left to go into savings after rent.

The faucets leaked, the paint was chipping and probably poisonous, the front door didn’t even lock properly, but you could care less: it was freedom.

Eddie grabs the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head, revealing his tattooed chest and silver bar nipples, wincing when his shirt grazes the new piercing. His curls tickling his shoulders.

“I know,” he grunts, unclasping his belt and chain from his jeans, tossing them to the floor beside his makeshift bed, “I just worry one day you’ll get sick of pitying the Munson charity case all the time.”

He scoffs when you throw a pillow at him, “what I’m serious!”

“Knock it off, Bam Bam, you’re my best friend, I’m never getting sick of you.”

“oh Christ, listen—” he began, shaking his head in disgust and holding up a ringed hand to stop you, “this game only goes one way, babe, and that’s me calling you the same name I have since we were six.”

You roll your eyes, a sudden heat to your cheeks that lately was becoming more and more prevalent each time Eddie used your nickname or an endearing name someone would use for a girlfriend.

But that was just how Eddie was, he even called Ms. O’Donnell “honey” once to ace a test but all he got was a big fat ‘F’ and a week’s worth of detentions.

Eddie reaches into his pocket for the plastic film, “besides, you only keep me around because you can smoke for free,” he says, presenting the pre-rolled joints and his trusty zippo.

“Ooh, and he brings gifts? you shouldn’t have,” you mock in a terrible accent, fanning yourself with your hand as if you were a true southern bell, “it's not even my birthday, mister.”

Eddie gets into the bit, sitting cross legged on your bed and dumping the contents of the bag onto your comforter, the skin of your knees touching, “well it’s not every day a lonely feller like me comes across a lady lookin’ as fine as you.”

Giggling he licks the end of the paper to seal it tight and you lick your own lips in greedy anticipation. You loved movie nights with all your friends, but there was always something special about being alone with Eddie.

It was calming, but maybe it was just having him around that made the stress of bills and everything else just fade away. He had that special way about him.

Holding the joint and lighter up for you his eyes locked with yours, and you swore his cheeks went pink, “ladies first, princess.”

—-

Across town, Steve was spending the evening with his lips on Nancy’s neck, huffing when she gasps when the bed creaks from his movement.

“Sorry— I’m still a little freaked out.”

Steve brushes a lock of hair behind her ear, “there’s nothing to worry about honey— I promise, I’ll keep you safe. You know that right?”

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. “I-I know that, I’m— it’s just this time of year that always gives me the creeps.”

Nancy Wheeler had gained minor popularity when she struck the fancy of the king of Hawkins High. She wasn’t used to it, finding the glory of being Steve’s girlfriend suffocating.

“Well I’ve got somethin that isn’t creepy,” he coos into the shell of her ear, “in fact, you always seem to like it.”

“Steve..”

He shushes her with his lips, and like she always did, Nancy found herself giving in to him.

—

Fingers twirled between the bouncy rings of a telephone cord, Robin waited patiently— well as patiently as she could— for Vickie to pick up.

Their relationship was secretive, only her closest friends knew of Vickie and Vickie didn’t tell a single soul about the nights spent tangled in the corn powder blue sheets with the pretty freckled faced clarinet player.

They had a system. Vickie dealt the cards and made the rules, while Robin had a hand of jokers and mismatched suits, only she didn’t—couldn’t— see it for what it was.

The phone rang and rang, and would continue to ring. Hard to answer the phone when you’re too busy being pressed into the mattress with your feet on your boyfriend's shoulders.

—

“Yeah mom, I’m home now.” Jonathan answered annoyingly into the phone, “… W—No he’s asleep.. I’m sure he did… yeah, fine..I’ll go check.”

The phone would have stretched easily into the small bathroom down the hallway of the Byers’ home so he could check that Will had taken his nightly medication, but instead he let the phone slap against the floor in a clankety thud.

Jonathan Byers had been the man of the house since his dad left in seventh grade. He cooked, he did the laundry, and worked part time wherever he could. His mom was barely able to keep it together since Lonnie had left. And most days, she couldn’t. Somehow the last year she had gotten worse.

She was rail thin, and never ate a thing. Absent minded. Constantly writing things out and scribbling nonsense onto scraps of paper. Strewn across the living room, the kitchen, any surface available.

She was always worrying if Will would be okay, but never reciprocating that same kind of love and care to Jonathan.

Joyce Byers loved her boys equally, but the youngest was given more attention, maybe it was because he was her last baby, or possibly because his father had rarely ever acknowledged his existence. Still, the relationship between mother and son was broken off, string rolling in on itself when it came to Jonathan.

The pills in the slot marked ‘friday’ were gone, just like Jonathan knew they would be. His brother took his medications religiously, never ever skippinga day, he had it clocked down to the hour, minute, and second— the same time every single day.

A routine he had since last year.

Jonathan looks back at his gaunt expression when he shuts the medicine cabinet, smiling fake and toothy, taking the usual freebie from the hoard of pills his mother was prescribed but never took.

His lips under the faucet he swallows the white oval pill down.

Will wasn’t the only one with his own pill routine.

—

“Eddie, turn the lights off already it’s fuckin 2 am,”

Without fully waking you throw a pillow down to where he was laying, it wasn’t unusual for him to get high and pass out with the lights still on, but it was annoying beyond belief.

A muffled groan is heard from beneath the tossed pillow before Eddie wrestled it from his face, “the fuck are you throwing shit at me for?”

“you left the lights on again.”

Head on a swivel Eddie looks from you, to the ceiling to the switch, “open your eyes Helen Keller, they’re not on.”

the sting of light is still shining bright in your face and when you peel your eyes open you see that he wasn’t lying. Your room was dark, but the street lamp was glowing brighter than usual.

Your toes curl around the plush fibers of your rug and you pull the cord to open the blinds. Eddie’s weight shifts onto your mattress as a loud yawn escapes his lips, followed by a scratching noise that you’re hoping is his nails against his skull instead of his balls.

“what the fuck?”

The street lamps up and down your street were buzzing and glowing in an emberred haze. The glow of yellow was straining brighter than could be deemed possible and it was pulsing with an ominous flicker.

You were tantalized by it’s beauty, like a moth to a flame hypnotized by the menacing doom— you couldn’t look away, and for a split second the welcoming sunshine of the lamp turned blood red, a warning of terror before being blown to bits and shattering to the ground below.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie jumps behind your shoulder, “what the hell was that, you saw it right?”

You definitely had, it’s illuminating shadow still glowed bright when you blinked your eyes. You have heard of electric surges, currants going hot when wires were overloaded. But flickering like that then burning red before burning out? It was almost like a fallacy, something Eddie probably would have made up for Hellfire, it simply couldn’t have been true.

You rubbed at your eyes like a tired child, “told you that second joint smelled funny,” you said sitting on your knees facing him and shoving his shoulder, a look of shock on his face.

He scoffs and shoves your shoulder back, rolling his eyes playfully, “it’s a new strain Rick concocted himself, red…red somethin’…” he lays partly on the bed and stretches his body to the floor fumbling into his jeans pocket in search of the cellophane plastic of the baggy.

“Ah, here,” he says, shoving the bag into your hand, your thumb rubs over the black sharpie written in boy chicken scratch hand writing.

You read it the same time Eddie says it.

“Redrum.”

♡ hope you enjoyed, comment what you think will happen next; reblogs are appreciated

♡ part 2: A SLICE & A SCREAM ♡

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @eddies-acousticguitar @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord * @leelei1980 @mopeymopeymouse @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper * @str4ngergirlw0rld * @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon

if you want to be added to the all time taglist for new/upcoming fics comment on this post 🖤

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fan fiction #stranger things #stranger things au #hide + scream series

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melodymunson · 3 months

Text

Rockstar Eddie Munson x fem reader head canons (feat Steve Harrington)

Adult content ahead. Only 18+ no minors

(This is my first time posting a fic for the Stranger Things fandom on tumblr. Reblogs and feedback/comments are much appreciated.)

ao3 link for the fic

Corroded Coffin had fans everywhere and people who knew and loved heavy metal became lifelong fans.

Eddie loved to crowd surf, stage dive at any show, and even get into the pit. He was well known by concert promoters and club owners/staff alike.

The first time you saw Eddie play live he connected with you instantly and when it came time to meet the fans he made sure to ask you backstage. Out of all the groupies or fans he could've chosen he picked you.

When Corroded Coffin was the headliner he would put 110% into his performances and you would be sure to take pictures of him and CC because they were the best live band you had ever seen.

Once you got on Eddie's tour bus with your VIP all-access pass he played some unwritten songs and covers for you.

You of course bought all of the band's merch and loved all their designs.

Your job for the band was to help run the soundchecks and sell the band's merch and of course, get big tips from some of the fans.

You loved Eddie for so many reasons and him being a rockstar was just a small part of it. When he was onstage you loved to see his energy as a frontman and lead guitarist.

Most tour dinners were nothing special mainly fast food or easy and fast microwaveable food from the local grocery stores. Sometimes though Eddie took you out to dinner and it was romantic.

Eventually, you and Eddie decided to get matching tattoos of a coffin and his band's logo on your right shoulders.

Neither of you were heavy drinkers but wouldn't turn down free drinks and shots. Eddie's favorite drinks were whiskey and vodka but he loved the occasional beer.

Corroded Coffin toured with some amazing bands including Autopsy, Carnivore, WASP, and Napalm Death.

When you were watching shows with him he would either crowd surf or get into the pit. On occasion, he would hold you during the slow rock ballads.

He may have had a bad boy image to the rest of the world but he was more than a rockstar to you and you understood him completely and he loved how down-to-earth you were.

What started as you being a groupie soon turned into a relationship. It was spontaneous and he was the best mix of gentleman and rockstar.

When guys would look at you he was very protective and made sure to leave his mark and let them know you were his girl only. He would mark you up with hickeys or kiss you and hold you close to him.

You got an "I'm with the band the rules don't apply to me" shirt you would wear to some of the band's shows. He of course got an "I'm in the band the rules don't apply to me shirt" he often wore during some of his shows.

Most of your wardrobe consisted of black clothes and ripped jeans, Corroded Coffin shirts, metal tee shirts, and low-cut tops and fishnets along with platform boots. Spiked jewelry, chokers especially, and spiked bras are also a turn-on for him. Eddie would especially love it when you wore all black and when you chose to pair fishnets, a corset, a leather jacket, and heels together- he almost couldn't resist the urge to rip your clothes off.

He usually pairs a Hellfire Club shirt with cutoff and ripped denim jeans together as well as a denim jacket and Converse chucks or Vans tennis shoes but he always looks good.

He wasn't too much into cover songs but on occasion, the band would be known to cover Metallica and Black Sabbath.

For their headline Halloween hometown show you cosplayed Elvira and he loved it. Eddie went as the devil complete with mask, pitchfork, and cloak.

Neither of you have a particular preference for the type of fan/groupie to hook up with but most of the fans wore dark lipstick and were goth/alternative with low-cut black clothes. He was a sucker for women with pretty eyes though.

So many women threw themselves at both of you and took their tops off at his shows but this was just the normal every-night rockstar occurrence. Bras and underwear thrown at him on the stage happened at every show.

Sex on the tour bus was wild. Whether it be with just Eddie, other girls, men, or couples, you still had a wild and crazy time.

One of your favorite partners was Steve. Even though he was a jock he loved going to Eddies shows and supporting him and he loved to see you. After a few drinks and a joint or two, you and Steddie were fucking in the back of the bus in every position.

All the times you fucked other people together were one-night stands. The important thing was that Eddie was yours and all the sex you had with other people was protected.

He got off on seeing you go down on another woman and please her. For his birthday you let him watch and film you fucking 3 other women. He loved it and came so hard just by jacking off to it.

Being with Eddie and other women on the bus you would either fuck on the couches or in the back room and you could pretty much get them to do whatever you wanted. Being with a rockstar came with its privileges after all.

Sometimes you would just have groupies on the tour bus to suck Eddie off and film them as they did so. They were always willing and eager to please and the whole time Eddie would look right into the camera and smile.

Leather, whips, and bondage were some of Eddie's favorite things as well as pegging and you were willing to oblige and sometimes you were even his dominatrix.

Some of the concerts you attended as VIP because of his rockstar status were Ozzy, Judas Priest, Metallica, ACDC, and Joan Jett & The Blackhearts.

In the recording studio, it was quite the experience especially when he laid down the vocals. He even had you do guest vocals on the album by recording your moans as he fingered and fucked you.

Most of the time you get a chill and relaxed day off just to go do something fun like paintball, play some Dungeons & dragons, go hiking in abandoned places, go to the roller skating rink or the arcade.

Most days after the shows he takes you to the local bar or strip club/burlesque club and tip the dancers very well, have a few drinks, and bring a girl or two back to the bus.

Dustin and the rest of his gang including Will and Eleven go to the local shows and ones that are all ages of course to see Corroded Coffin and Eddie even gives them a special shoutout and side stage access/VIP treatment.

For a while, he had been thinking about getting another guitarist and he decided to hire you. The gift that he presented when you were going to get asked to be in his band was a Fender electric guitar that was purple. He had been teaching you for a while and giving you lessons and would teach you more.

What you saw as most fitting for his next birthday would be a new electric guitar and you got one for him custom-made with his initials and it was blue. He of course loved it and told you it was the best present anyone had ever gotten him.

For his first big band photoshoot, he made sure you went with him and he posed with you scantily clad but very tasteful. You both had your guitars and posed together.

Once Corroded Coffin had made it big you and Eddie got a place of your own. For so long he wanted to be able to move out of the trailer park so he did and you got a nice place that was decorated with so many rock n roll posters, a King sized bed, silk and satin sheets, and curtains/drapery, a music room, a sex room, and even a small custom recording studio.

The new place was missing something and you decided you wanted to get a pet to adopt so you sat Eddie down and talked it over and it wasn't difficult to convince him to get one. Later that week you went to a cat and dog rescue shelter and found the cutest cat that was a tabby.

When you were on tour either Steve and Robin or Dustin would take care of the cat and you and Eddie made sure to bring home lots of toys when you got back.

Once Eddie's band got their big break and finally played a bigger venue and as headliner, he decided to propose to you onstage.

After being newly engaged to Eddie he had a chance to be in a music documentary and brought you along with him for being his biggest muse.

Being with Eddie and in a touring band was what was the best thing for you now and whatever came next you would be ready for it.

tagging @corneliuswatkins @keeryatmosphere @chrrymunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @bimbobaggins69 @reidsbtch @babygorewhore @inourtownofhawkins @lokis-army-77 @imyourdaninow @ali-r3n @harringtonfan4 @koskeepsake @munson-mjstan @bunnsandroses @take-everything-you-can @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @steveslittlesunflower @emsgoodthinkin @jadeylovesmarvelxo @lofaewrites @zestychili @s6raphic @probablyin-bed @corrodedcorpses @dollalicia @hopsgirl

lemme know if you want to be added/removed

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson headcanons #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie #steve harrington x fem reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson imagines #rockstar #stranger things headcanons #stranger things fic

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queenimmadolla · 10 months

Note

This is so Eddie

This is so boyfriend Rockstar!Eddie 💯

He’s wearing your untailored dress (you didn’t finish getting it fitted bc you caught a virus so why bother when you’re confined to your tissue covered bed) and he’s high on acid the whole night (bc why the fuck would he wanna be sober anywhere you’re not???)

the cold doesn’t kill you, but seeing him on your tv, live from the red carpet might 💀

#I AM SCREAMING #you’re all BITCH IS THAT MY SWEATER #$replies #giving eddie head(canons)#rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #boyfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #sp0ck136 🖖

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chaseadrian · 2 years

Text

vandalism in the closet

Rushing off to Atlantic City to elope with Eddie might be a stupid idea, it might be the best idea you've ever had. But if there's one thing you do know, it's that rockstars know how to trash hotel rooms.

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader tags: 18+ ONLY, explicit, established relationship, elopement, dom!eddie, also soft!eddie, fluff, post-canon, like circa 1989 or something word count: 4k+ a/n: if you listen to She Rides by Danzig right as you start reading, by the time Eddie starts singing lyrics the song should also be around the same lyrics. fun thing i noticed lol but uhh yeah this one is minimally edited so feedback and comments are appreciated as always. likes are great, reblogs are better.

When you and Eddie came up with the idea in the middle of the night, you thought you’d change your minds somewhere along the way.

Hopped up on the adrenaline of his cock buried inside you, his hair dripping sweat onto your shoulders, you thought the cold swipe of a wet washcloth on your stomach would change things.

You thought when your heart rate slowed you’d change your answer, he’d tell you nevermind, you’d both just give up the idea.

When he slipped one of his rings on your finger—the corroded steel band and webbed howlite crystal just a tad too big for your ring finger—you still didn’t think it was real.

When you hopped in the van, when you loaded up with snacks at the corner store, every pit stop and refuel, every passing state line—commemorated with grainy photos from your polaroid.

Every memory you’d made in the eleven hours it took to get to Atlantic City, none of it felt real.

Sure, you could’ve gone down to the courthouse, could’ve celebrated at the Hawkins motel, but Eddie wouldn’t stand for it.

“Only the best of the worst for my girl,” He’d said with a wink, with your hand pressed against his lips.

And though the Elvis impersonator was booked, Cher ended up being a better stand in. Good enough for you. Good enough for two idiots who found themselves wearing makeshift rings and rushing off to the nearest high rise hotel.

You were against the wall before the door closed, Eddie’s mouth on your neck, towering over you, his hand on the wall above your head.

“Why don’t you go get all pretty on the bed for me?” His voice had you shuddering, and you pulled him in by the back of the neck for a filthy kiss. Your tongue pushed into his mouth, the slick of his lips sliding against yours, a faint growl sitting in his throat.

You ducked under his arm, and his hand caught you with a firm smack on the ass before you rushed over to the bed, slipping out of the flowing white dress you’d pulled from the back of your closet and thrown on.

Shucking off his jacket, he followed you into the suite, diverting to turn on the radio. He turned the dial, finding Danzig somewhere between poppy Madonna and the immortal Sinatra. Cranking the volume up as loud as it would go, he pointed at you and mouthed the lyrics, shaking his head as he stepped towards you.

You leaned back on your elbows, melting into the mattress as his figure covered you. The giddiness in your chest had you laughing, but as he whispered the lyrics, one of his large, calloused hands dragging down your body, you choked on your laughter.

She slides, Down inside your skin

Falling to his knees on the carpet, he put a hand on either thigh, spreading you slowly, letting his head fall back, shaking his hair with the words.

In time, She will make you scream

He buried his head between your legs, sucking a wet patch into your underwear, hands on the insides of your thighs stretching you open as wide as you could stretch. Wider, still.

You lost all sense in that moment, before his tongue had even touched your cunt, before he’d snapped your underwear away from you with his teeth, sticking them in his back pocket before diving back into your folds. The music was deafening, thrumming in your chest, making you ache for him.

Without asking, you knotted your fingers in his hair, pushing him deeper against you, burying his face between your legs.

Eddie was too amped up to care, the coarse black denim of his jeans straining his hard cock. He brought a hand down to his bulge, groaning into your pussy as he palmed himself, as he unzipped, tugging on his cock until he was starting to lose focus on making you scream.

Letting go of his cock, he resituated his hand on your body, sliding over your bare tits, his thumb smoothing over the hard nipple, squeezing nail marks into your skin.

His tongue swiped up your slit, flat against the wall of nerves, head tilting left and right, coating your cunt with his slick spit.

You slammed your head back into the bed, over and over as his tongue worked your clit, fuckfuckfuckfuck and please, fuck right there, pleasepleaseplease and all manner of noises almost completely silenced by the thrashing music from the radio.

Eddie could hear you, though, could feel your voice from your chest, from the way your tits bounced with each jerk of your body, each spasm of nerves, from your head smashing into the mattress, desperate for release. Hot air hit your cunt as Eddie laughed, his lips pressing into your inner thighs, licking away the beads of sweat, skin flushed from the way his hair smothered your skin.

You combed your fingers through his hair, waiting for his tongue to come back, waiting for his face in your pussy, waiting for the release you thought you were promised. You whined and lifted your head up, watching as he stared at you from beneath furrowed brows, tongue skating up your abdomen, between your tits.

Whining again, your hands sliding over your thighs, just grazing the slick skin of your cunt before Eddie shook his head at you, and you snapped them back, curling them up between your bodies.

He brought his lips close to your ear, almost a whisper with the music blaring, and you felt the tip of his cock prod at your hole.

“What’re you whining for, huh?” He teased his tongue on the outer cup of your ear, “You don’t think I’d take care of my wife.”

Not stated with fondness, but with possession, he slammed his dick into you, and you inhaled a sharp gasp of air.

“Cause that’s what you are now, isn’t that right?” Fucking his cock into you, he slid a hand behind your head, nails against your scalp, tearing at your hair, tugging until it hurt.

“You gonna be my good little housewife? Let me fuck you against the stove? Suck me off when I come home from work?” He threw his head back and cackled, closing his eyes and ramming into you harsher and faster until you were losing your breath.

The rough hilt of his pelvis against your clit, the bursting pressure of his cock in your cunt, he had already worked you enough with his mouth and before you could stop it you were spasming and crying, clawing at the comforter on the bed, framing your bodies with the plush linen.

Eddie came not long after, hot bursts of cum seeping from the seams of your cunt, his cock pumping the orgasm out from your body, belt buckle clinking with every thrust. He kept fucking you without letting you cool down, but you were high on the night, high on Eddie, and the blunt you’d smoked on the way to the hotel room helped too.

Tugging his shirt off, he ducked back down to your mouth, squeezing your jaw with his hand and sticking his tongue between your lips.

“If you think I’m gonna give you a break, you’re dead fucking wrong.”

Except, he eventually did.

You both thanked the universe for all-night room service, a white rolling cart of fries and crab and whatever your blissed out minds could think of was there twenty minutes from the moment Eddie put the phone down.

White robes adorning your slicked up bodies, you sat on the floor of the suite’s living space, shoveling food into your mouths.

He threw a fry at you, and you caught it between your teeth, beaming at the applause he gave you.

You took a swig of the champagne he’d ordered, cringing at the taste. Eddie smiled, exhaling a laugh from his nostrils.

“Hey you uh,” He started, reaching over to play with the cuff of your robe, “You think we made the right decision?”

Shrugging, you brought his hand to your lips, kissing the knuckles, “I dunno, but like, do we ever know?”

He looked down and nodded, swallowing hard, shaking himself out of his worry, “Guess not.”

You squeezed his hand, interlacing your fingers and swinging them in an arc, back and forth in the air, staring at the ring on your hand, the rings on his. The way they slid together, scratched up over years of use.

You sang the words, plucky and brief, “I. just. know. I. love. you!” Bouncing your hands in the air with each word, you smiled at him and cocked your head, “Eddie, I drove eleven hours in the car with you and we didn’t like, die or kill each other. You ask me, we’re battle tested, baby.”

There was a moment of pause when he looked at you, the amused smile on his lips teetering between keeping the moment sweet and turning you into a slobbering mess again. The way you rested his hand on your thigh with a gentle pat, the way you went back to the pile of fries, a sip of champagne, a grimace. You did a double-take when you realized his eyes hadn’t left you once, those cavernous brown eyes that wrapped you in warmth, brought you home.

“What?” You asked, physically unable to wipe the smile from your lips.

He propped his elbow up on the table, sitting his cheek in his palm, “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his nose, “No, you.”

He shook his head with a laugh, “Babydoll, how are you still this blitzed?”

Shrugging again, you teetered over to his lips, and he slid his hands into your hair, his palms pressed against your cheek.

“You know how much I love you?” He asked, gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips, the tips of your noses brushing against each other with every deep inhale he took.

“Nope.” You grinned, letting your head fall into your shoulders, staring up at him.

He kissed you, a deep, smothering kiss that lit up your brain, had you melting against him. The kind of kiss that forces your eyes shut, forces the world away until it’s just the blackness behind your eyes and his lips on yours. Not rough, nor desperate, just full. Like every step you took was made with this kiss in mind, getting you to this moment, something of a crux, a certainty, an answer to all the times you’d looked up at the sky and asked why?

Eddie pulled back from the kiss, eyes wide as though he’d just had the same revelation as you, “Me neither.”

Then there was that tongue in cheek smile you knew, the one that saved him from the kind of vulnerability you both shied away from when you could help it.

With your heart bursting in your chest, you could no longer help it.

“Eddie.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, “Yeah, doll?”

You wrapped your fingers around his wrists, holding his grip on you.

“If someone told me that, y’know, waiting, at the end of—of all the bullshit and—and bad things and whatever, I went through,” You looked down for a moment, blinking fast and shaking the thoughts away, “If they said I had to go through it to get to you…there’s no doubt in my mind that I—I would.” You loosened your grip on his wrist, running your thumbs in a pattern over and over the same spot of his skin.

“Ohh, baby.” His voice was soft as he pulled you into his lap, hands wrapping around your shoulders, rubbing your back.

“No more bad things,” He said, holding you as close as he could, “Not long as I have anything to say about it.”

You breathed against the soft fluff of the robe, allowing the silence between you to settle, the faintest hum of the radio over in the bedroom carrying the moment, the comforting thrum of an electric guitar.

Neither of you wanted to break the comfort you’d fallen into, Eddie’s hand petting the back of your head, your fingers sliding underneath the lapel of his robe, grazing the tattoo on his pec. There was no doubt in your mind you’d made the right decision today. In five years, ten, twenty, maybe that would change.

But right now?

Right now, nothing felt better than his ring on your finger.

You pulled your head away from his chest, looking up at him, into those brown eyes. Always sparkling, always home, and they fluttered closed as you leaned up to kiss his cheek, spattering pecks down to his jaw, covering his face until he was smiling and you could press your lips to his dimples, too.

He shook his head at you, combing a hand through your hair, stilling when you finally made it to his lips.

Eddie melted easily when you were sweet to him, cheeks flushing pink, posture sinking into a bashful curve that was entirely incompatible with the daunting tower of his frame when you weren’t being so sweet.

He pushed against your kiss, guiding you down to the floor, keeping rhythm with his lips as he balanced himself over you.

You linked your hands behind his neck, your ankles around the backs of his knees, bringing his body in, his weight firm and comforting on top of you, but he pulled back.

“Can’t believe you’re all mine.” He flicked a few strands of hair out of your face, smoothing a thumb over one of your eyebrows.

You wiggled your left hand in front of his face, “Believe it, babes, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

He licked the back of your hand, and you jerked it away with a hey! and a laugh, Eddie ducking into your neck to press kisses that tickled you more than anything else, and you kept giggling until he pulled away.

“Hey, excuse me, I’m trynna kiss my wife here.”

You feigned surprise with a gasp, “You’re married?”

Eddie cocked his head back, “Well, ‘married’ is kind of a loose term.” He rolled his eyes as he talked, that shiteating smirk on his face, “Don’t you have a hubby waiting at home for you? I thought we were both stepping out here!”

Sitting up on your elbows, you forced Eddie to back away from you, hovering in wait, “Ugh, I do.” You scoffed, shaking your head, “He’s a total burnout, though, and he’s got a tiiiiiny—”

He covered your mouth with his hand, laughing, “Don’t you dare.”

You licked the palm of his hand, but he just stared at you, lips stretched into a smile, tilting his head in amusement. You squinted your eyes at him, waiting patiently until he slid his hand away.

“Tiny dick.” You sputtered out, tucking your lips into your mouth, trying to hold back a smile.

“Oh how dare you!” He laughed, ducking into your neck, tickling you again, his hands unfastening the tie on the robe so he could get at your hips, fingers coasting across the skin until you were slapping him on the shoulder, pushing on his chest, trying to get him away.

Eddie held strong on top of you though, kept you there until he’d decided to bring his lips to yours, laughing as you tried to regain your breath, efforts ruined by your own laughter.

The kisses deepened as the laughter died off, Eddie moaning into your mouth, reaching between you two to tug free the rope of his own robe, bare bodies squishing together. His cock hardened against you as you made out, but he made no move to fuck you yet, both of you content with his skin on yours, lips gliding together.

There was no telling how long you stayed like that. With the city lights outside, the night was livelier than the day and the only sign of passing time was the change in tempo from the live music down the street.

When the hard thrashing turned to soft rock, when your lips were swollen and red, bodies slick with sweat, Eddie started shifting down. He dragged his mouth down the column of your throat, over your tits, tongue swirling over each nipple, sucking until you were nice and firm. Slower down your stomach, his fingers finding their way to yours, grounding you in the moment, keeping you from getting overwhelmed with the excitement of what comes next.

Lips on your pelvis, your thighs. He paused to look up at you, and you brushed his hair out of his face, grazing his cheek, thumb at the corner of his open mouth. A warm wash of exhilaration lit up your skin when he tilted his head, tongue sliding under your thumb, lips closing over the dewy skin.

Eddie swirled his tongue around, eyes burning into yours, before he pulled back and closed in between your legs, that first graze forcing your head back into the ground. You squeezed his hand, languishing in his slow laps of his tongue, just nicking the nerves of your clit.

He moaned into your pussy as he sped up, never hitting the speed he’d hit earlier, just driving you deeper and deeper into the feeling of his mouth. You kept yourself disciplined, quieting your moans, holding your body down best you could. It wasn’t that kind of moment, but you knew he’d be proud anyway.

And proud he was. Spurred by the restraint, he worked harder to break you, sliding two fingers into your pussy, curving them against your walls, coupling the pressure in your cunt with the sharp pleasure from your clit. He never turned rough, only sped up as your breathing did, hand still tightly laced with yours, slowing down every time it seemed you might break.

You relished the hot moisture of his mouth, stirred with giddiness every time he pulled you back from the edge.

“Oh,” You breathed, mind fuzzing with television static, his tongue making you dizzy, “Eddie, I love you. I love you so much.”

You combed a hand through your hair, and he lifted his head, pressing a kiss to your thigh, “I love you too, doll.” And ducked right back in, driving you closer this time.

It seemed you had cracked the code, because Eddie didn’t slow down this time. He took you to the edge and over it, squeezing your hand and encouraging you with soft hums. The wet laps of his tongue faster and faster until you were paralyzed on the floor with bliss, a velvety pink warmth spilling from your legs, coating your body in pillowy elation.

Eddie wiped his mouth as he made his way back to your lips, kissing you with the same sweetness as earlier, slow and quieting. He whispered between you, “You wanna ride me, babydoll?”

You leaned up to kiss him again, nodding against his lips, and he slid a hand around your back, guiding you as he flipped onto his back. You threw a leg over his lap, straddling him, still slick pussy enveloping him between your folds.

He breathed a sigh of relief, smushing his bangs up off his forehead with his hand, exasperated and wanting.

“God, I fucking love you.” He exhaled, his fingertips running down your torso, “You’re so hot.”

“Mmm,” You smiled, sliding forward, lining his cock with your entrance, “Speak for yourself.”

He slid into you with impossible ease, breath leaving his lungs, eyes screwing shut, “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

Grinding against him, you smiled, “Wonder why that is?”

“Shh, don’t tease,” He groaned, setting his hands on your hips, guiding you back and forth over his dick, his hips bucking up, locking your hips together.

You leaned down to kiss him, “Sorry, babes.”

Eddie pawed at you until you leaned down to him, burying your head into his neck, kissing harsh marks into the skin. He slid his hands down your back, lifting his hips, “Make me cum and all will be forgiven.”

You rolled your hips against him, leaning back up, hands on his shoulders, “Deal.”

You found yourself struggling to maintain rhythm, already drained from the torture of his tongue on you, the delayed gratification of your orgasm wearing you out now as you tried to maintain your composure.

Eddie slid his knees up, sensing your fatigue, fucking into you, taking control as he was wont to do. His hands held you down, fingers sliding up your back to bring you down to his lips, letting you rest in his neck, overwhelmed and panting against his skin.

It didn’t take long before Eddie himself was speeding up, fucking you faster, harder, but with the same delicacy, the same flattery, I love you’s and fuck, you feel so good and the prettiest moans you’d ever heard.

You pulled away from his neck to see his face as he came, features painted with agony, eyebrows knit together, crinkles under his eyelids, pink lips open and gasping, the shudder of his pelvis with every moment of undoing. It was a beautiful fucking sight, and you pushed your lips hard against his, grinding against him, heightening the orgasm. You loved him like this, loved the way he could lose himself under you, when he couldn’t help but surrender to you.

With a few last thrusts, Eddie came down from his peak, wrapping you in his arms, his cock still buried inside you, cum seeping onto his thighs. Your breathing synced over the minutes that passed, hands in each other’s hair, stroking through the knots.

“I love you,” Eddie sighed.

You lifted your head up, resting your chin on his chest, letting out a pleased hum, “I love you too.”

He tilted his head up, straining to kiss the top of your head, and fell back against the carpet.

The two of you stayed there until you were sure it would hurt to stand up, your legs still straddling him, just listening to the muffled music from outside, the faint radio in the bedroom.

“How cold you think those fries are?” He asked, and you painstakingly rolled off of him, groaning from the dull pain in your legs, the effort it took to unstick them from their splayed position.

“Ow, fuck,” You whispered, reaching over to grab a fry and pop it into your mouth, stretching each leg out at a time as you munched on several more fries, “Not so cold that I wouldn’t eat the rest of them.”

Eddie shot up, wiping away the cum on his legs with the bottom of his robe and bringing his hand down onto the fries like a claw, taking a chunk of them off the plate to shove in his mouth.

You smacked him on the arm, “Hey, manners, buddy.”

He spoke with his mouth full, reaching over to take a swig of your champagne,

“Manners? Never heard of ‘em.”

And that was how the weekend continued. Holed up in the hotel room, throwing away money on expensive room service, hands on each other’s bodies, lips covering every inch they could reach, sweat and champagne and blankets on the floor.

The room was trashed by Monday morning, bathroom towels flung about, picture frames crooked on the walls, a side table turned over. It wasn’t irreversible damage, but it was incriminating enough that you spent a few minutes fixing what you could to save face with housekeeping.

With your duffle bag in hand, you waited by the door for Eddie to join you.

“Hurry it up, babes, we got a long drive ahead of us.”

“Yeah yeah yeah I’m comin’!” He yelled from the bedroom, and you dropped the bag to go see what was keeping him.

He had his back to you as he leaned into the closet, scrawling something on the underside of the shelf.

“There.” He stood back and gestured toward it, “Check it out.”

Scrawled in fading Sharpie were your initials and the date.

You laughed and grabbed his hand, “Real juvenile of you, Eddie.”

He winked and dragged you back to the door, reaching down to grab your bag, “Like I said,” He kissed you, smiling against your lips, “Only the best of the worst for my girl, and I’m the best.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #mine #i dont looooove the writing on this one but i like it #its fine #but like. red light at the bowling alley fucking sends #so comparatively ofc im not gonna be screaming about this one lmfaoo

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