rockstar!eddiemunson x victoria’s secret angel!reader
The backstage area buzzed with organized chaos.
Stylists hurried from station to station, makeup artists performed last-minute touch-ups, and assistants carefully carried enormous feathered wings through the crowded halls.
Y/N L/N, one of Victoria’s Secret’s most recognizable Angels, stood in front of a mirror as a stylist adjusted the glittering straps on her silver costume.
“You ready?” the stylist asked.
Y/N smiled, taking a steady breath.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
A familiar voice interrupted.
“I think they forgot to tell me there’d be this much glitter.”
Y/N’s smile widened instantly.
“Eddie!”
She turned to see Eddie Munson weaving his way through the backstage crowd, holding a cardboard tray with two coffees and a small paper bag.
“I brought your favorite coffee,” he said, holding it up proudly. “And cinnamon rolls.”
She laughed.
“You remembered.” “I remember everything that involves pastries.”
She wrapped her arms around him carefully, mindful of the delicate wings already strapped to her back.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I saw you yesterday.”
“Exactly.”
One of the younger models watched the interaction with a grin.
“That’s your boyfriend?”
Y/N nodded proudly.
“Yes.”
“He doesn’t seem intimidated.”
“Oh, he was.”
Eddie overheard.
“I still am.”
A stylist gestured toward Eddie.
“You can stay until rehearsal starts.”
“Awesome.”
Eddie leaned against a makeup counter while Y/N sipped her coffee.
“So…” he began.
“…How heavy are those wings?”
She rolled her shoulders.
“Thirty pounds.”
His eyes widened.
“Thirty?”
“I know.”
“I complain about carrying my guitar.”
“You should.”
“It’s only twelve pounds!”
She giggled. When rehearsal began, Eddie quietly slipped into the audience.
He’d performed sold-out stadium tours with Corroded Coffin.
Thousands screaming his name.
Fireworks.
Pyrotechnics.
But somehow…
Watching Y/N do what she loved made him more nervous than any concert ever had.
The music began.
One by one, the Angels walked the runway.
Then—
Y/N stepped onto the catwalk.
The audience erupted into applause.
Her jeweled wings sparkled beneath hundreds of lights while her confident smile never wavered.
Eddie couldn’t look away.
The photographer sitting near him noticed.
“You’ve barely blinked.”
Eddie chuckled.
“Can you blame me?”. “No.”
After rehearsal ended, Y/N hurried backstage again.
“There you are!”
She nearly skipped toward him before remembering she was still wearing six-inch heels.
“You were amazing,” Eddie said.
She smiled shyly.
“You always say that.”
“Because it’s always true.”
An interviewer from an entertainment magazine happened to walk by.
“Mind if we ask a quick question?”
Y/N nodded.
“Sure.”
The reporter smiled.
“Eddie, you’ve played in front of massive crowds. Is watching Y/N on the runway different?”
He didn’t even hesitate.
“Way different.”
“How so?”
“When I’m on stage, I know what I’m doing.”
He looked over at Y/N.
“When she’s out there, I’m just another guy in the crowd thinking, ‘Wow… that’s my girl.’”
The interviewer smiled.
“That’s adorable.”
Y/N gently nudged Eddie’s shoulder.
“You’re making me blush.”
“I figured all the makeup artists would appreciate the extra work.”
She laughed.
Hours later, after the show had ended and the cameras were gone, the two of them slipped out a private exit.
Y/N had traded the glamorous outfit for one of Eddie’s oversized Corroded Coffin hoodies.
The hoodie nearly swallowed her whole.
“There,” Eddie said, smiling.
“Now you look like yourself again.”
She slipped her hand into his.
“You mean your hoodie makes me look like me?”
“It does.”
She laughed.
“I spent three hours becoming a Victoria’s Secret Angel…”
“…and five seconds becoming my favorite person again.”
Y/N looked up at him with a soft smile.
“You know, everyone backstage thought you’d be intimidated.”
“Were they wrong?”
“A little.”
He shrugged.
“I’ll never understand high fashion.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“What do you understand?”
He intertwined their fingers as they walked toward their waiting car.
“That no matter how many people cheer for you out there… I get to be the one who holds your hand when it’s over.”
