Don't it Make You Feel | E.M X Fem!Reader Part 2
Series Summary: The state championships for the battle of the bands brings in new opportunities for your Fort Wayne band Head Case. Things flip on their head when you meet who you'll be competing against...
Part 1
Part 3
Songs in this part are Inspired by:
*I know it isn't 100% that metal sound that CC is known for, but loved the lyrics and thought it sounded like something Eddie might write!*
Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Series Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI!, Smut, Fluff, Angst (would it be a bvtbxtch fanfic without all three?), mentions of abusive relationships, p in v sex, oral sex, kissing, cuddling, violence, mention of drugs and alcohol, being drunk, romance under the influence. By clicking the read more, you are confirming you are over the age of 18!
Word Count: ~8.3k
Author's Note: I am going to be so for real, It took me so long to post this because I had a bit of a menty b and thought my writing was going to shit so it took me a bit to edit this and rewrite some pieces, please forgive me. I will have more up within the next couple of days as an apology.
Eddie waited patiently by his phone for the past two nights; Foregoing practices and DnD campaigns because he couldn’t fathom the idea that he missed a call from you. A seemingly endless fridge full of beer and stash of joints helped Eddie’s embarrassment and disappointment stew. He didn’t want to believe that you never wanted to see him again. He refused to admit to himself that there was a possibility that you were just being nice to him - that you were drunk and didn’t actually let him into your world, but strung him along on a fake life so you never had to see him again.
On the third day, at 3 in the morning, Eddie rose from his spot on the couch, tucked a cigarette behind his ear and trudged down the stairs of his trailer, slamming the door behind him, leaving the drowning silence behind. He would go find solace from you at the Hideout.
A week had passed since the competition, and life in Fort Wayne felt fake. You barely talked to your bandmates, and when you did, it was a fight. You dodged Joey’s calls and advances and receded into the safe confines of your room, the constant whirring of records keeping your space and mind from the silence.
Your Duran Duran record was spinning in a silent loop when you felt a large hand on your shoulder.
“Dude, we need to leave for the studio in 10 minutes, what the fuck are you doing?” Your eyes cracked open to see a mess of a brown mullet and desperate eyes bulging at you. You shot up to meet Dave’s worried face.
“Fuck! Is it Saturday already?” You threw yourself out of bed and into your bathroom, furiously brushing your teeth while unmatting your tresses. You threw your face wash onto a washcloth and violently scrubbed the sleep off your face. You stumbled back through your room, picking up discarded jean shorts and an oversized Metallica shirt. You looked back at Dave, who was now sitting on your bed, leg shaking in anxiety.
“Just gimme a minute Dav-”
“You know he’s gonna try and blame this shit on you, that’s how he works.” Dave’s soft voice halted you in your tracks. You looked up at the man sitting on your bed, his eyes glistened with concern. You tiptoed towards him and knelt at his feet so your face was level with his.
“You don’t have to worry about Joey, Dave. I promise you, I have no problem putting him in his place” Your eyes searched to make contact with Dave’s, but he turned from your gaze, hand rubbing his mouth.
“Yeah, sweets, that’s what I’m worried about,” You pulled yourself off the floor and into the bathroom to change. You grabbed our eyeliner, mascara and lipstick and shoved it in your pocket.
The drive was silent - tense. It felt as if anyone said anything too loud, the air around you all would explode. The booming of your heart got louder as the streets of Indianapolis, and the melody of a gruff metalhead’s voice, called you.
You had spent the past days trying to get in contact with Eddie Munson, but the bar wouldn’t give out phone numbers, and there was no Munson in the phonebooks you could find for Indianapolis and area. Your options had run out and you accepted defeat, but the mop headed singer still had a hold on your heart and your dreams.
The van stuttered to a halt and Joey pulled into park. He turned his stare to the rest of you behind him; with a large sigh he broke the tension in the muggy van.
“We haven’t been on our game as of late, guys. But this is the big moment. Who knows who is going to be at the Jam Session today, and who is going to be at the recording session tomorrow. We have to step it up, show them that we deserved to win.” His eyes flickered to you “-and not fucking Corroded Coffin…” You gritted your teeth as the rest of your band silently agreed. You all clambered out of the hot van and looked up in awe at the skyscraper in front of you. Round Table’s logo plastered on the awning crowning the front door. The metallic shine of the building reflected your astonished faces back at you. You took a moment to breathe before pushing past the gaggle of guys with you and into the building. You were met with a stark white marble room, adorned with a snazzy reception desk to match. The receptionist looked at you and the impending group of musicians behind you, popped her gum and gestured for you to walk past her desk to the elevators. “Floor 12” she droned, unbothered of your entrance. You all stepped into the dim elevator, ooh’s and fucks slipping out of your band’s mouth every few seconds. The doors opened up to a cozy sitting room. On the far side of the room, you could see mixing boards, a door and a large glass window. There were leather chairs and couches littering the room, with chic end tables encasing them. There were gold and platinum records around the perimeter of the rooms, you were too nervous to see who they belonged to, knowing your imposter syndrome would clam you up. There were people sitting already, who looked familiar to you. A short man in an ill fitting suit came up to your group and eagerly took each of your hands in a firm, cartoonish shake.
“Ah, Head Case! It is so great to see you! Hope the drive was uneventful.” You all shared a shy smile or laugh. “Please, come in. You remember the guys from Corroded Coffin?-” the words rang through your head and clanked around like sheet metal. The familiar people sitting silently reintroduced themselves to you as you entered the space. You saw three out of four: Gareth, Jeff and Doug; they smiled at you and you gave a genuine wave back. Your smile faltered when you felt Joey’s hand snake around your waist. You flashed him a warning look and he tilted his head down so his lips hovered over your ear.
“Don’t embarrass us, just go with it” his grip on your hip became bruising. Joey boomed to the shorter man “Yeah I don’t know what they’re doing here. I thought this was our time to jam and prepare our own recordings… I don't really know how we’re gonna do that with these kiddiewinks here. Where’s Richard? I’m sure he would have something to say about this.” Gareth and Jeff stood with their fists clenched. Joey stalked towards them, leaving you behind. You shuddered as you still felt his burning grip release you. The short man got between Joey and Gareth.
“Now, now, kids. Play nice. This was Richard’s idea. There’s mention of a winning tour, and we gotta know that you can get along.”
“Oh what the fuck-” You heard his exasperated voice behind you and time felt like it was frozen. As you turned, you felt your heart fall to the pit of your stomach. You wanted to see him, it was one of the only things that has been on your mind - your body craved to be close to his - but you didn’t expect it like this. You took a step towards him, but felt a sharp tug on your wrist. Joey’s locked hand gave you no respite from your desires. The only thing you could do was wallow in Eddie’s betrayed eyes.
“Eddie-” your voice heaved as you were pulled further into the room and behind Joey’s broad frame. Eddie’s sad eyes locked with yours for only a moment. Then the metalhead’s gaze was stuck to the floor and his jaw tensed. Joey turned and flashed you a warning look. Your eyes also found the carpet.
“What the hell are they doing here, Stu?” Eddie seethed. The short man wrapped a plump hand around Eddie’s shoulder. The air had become static with tension between the bands.
“Guys, relax!” Stu guffawed. “We thought that since there may be some touring possibilities…” multiple scoffs rang through the room. “We needed to learn how to play nice together. We were thinking about starting with some jam sessions, see what each of you are working on. Then we can record together and see what kind of brainchildren we can make, huh?” Stu added another clap to Eddie’s shoulder blade. His fists clenched and his teeth gritted.
“Yeah, for these chucklefucks to steal our songs… Dave mumbled. Owen grumbled in agreement.
“Sure… because covering Chilliwack is so original.” Doug barked back. He stood from where he was perched on one of the leather couches. Owen and Jake stood to him. You went to intercept but Joey’s booming voice stopped everyone.
“I don’t mean to break up the party, but Head Case is not fucking teaming up with anyone. We won our deal fair and square.”
“Well fair and square have changed because Mr. Beaucannon has made some changes. So you take the deal, or you walk. So, you choose. Corroded Coffin? Anything to say?” Stu challenged. He was arguably one of the smallest in the room but his authoritative voice stilled the whole room. Eddie’s lips were tight as he made glances and exchanged small nods with his bandmates. Eddie sniffed and gave Stu a curt shake of his curls.
“Perfect. Head Case?” You shot Joey a pleading look, then silently pleaded to Dave, Jake and Owen. Their faces were solemn. You grabbed at Joey’s wrist.
“Joe, please.” You whispered. You fixed your gaze at him, eyes threatening to cry; but he refused to look at you. Eddie watched you with bated breath. As much as he hated your band, he hated how you stood him up; he couldn’t help but want you to stay. He wanted to work with you. He wanted to hear you sing, his body craved being close to you.
“Fuck this. We’re out of here.”
Your world moved in slow motion as Stu led you to the elevator that just moments ago held the same five people buzzing to reap the benefits of their win. But stupid ego and testosterone got in the way. You sat in the mirrored elevator, too ashamed to look at your own broken reflection. Dave murmured about the competition being rigged and how biased Richard Beaucannon was and how-
You let out an exasperated groan.
“Honestly, fuck all of you. All of your fucking egos and insecurities and all this bullshit!” Your chest heaved and the four men looked at you. “We had an opportunity, god damn it! We had an opportunity with and without Corroded Coffin and you fucking spoiled it. Ungrateful and unwilling all of you! I am so fucking over this!” The elevator doors opened and you poured out into the unfriendly lobby. You stormed for the door, Joey hot on your trails.
“What do you mean? We did that for you! You know that all they thought of us was a subpar band with a pair of tits at the helm. Corroded Coffin thought the same. We don’t need to work with dickheads like that.” Joey tried to rest his large hands on your shoulders. You shrugged him off.
“Take us home, Joey. After that, I don’t want to fucking talk to you ever again. Any of you!” You barked. You threw open the van door while the boys loaded their guitars in. Your hand found purchase over your mouth as you quietly sobbed into your lap.
-
Eddie watched the silvery elevators closed on you and your band. He should be relieved. Stu let out an awkward chortle and made an out of pocket joke about how only the strong survive. Eddie ran his hands through his curls. Gareth studied him carefully.
“Eddie…”
“Yeah, dude.” “What happened with Y/N?”
“Wha-what do you mean? Nothing” Eddie scoffed. Gareth rolled his eyes as he stood to his singer.
“Dude. We should be celebrating right now. Our biggest competition just dropped out of our deal. But you look like someone just died.” Gareth eyed Eddie quizzically.
“I just… I thought we would have made a good team with… parts of their band. I just, I dunno. We’re never gonna see her again…” Gareth heard the small break in Eddie’s voice. He let out a sigh and clapped Eddie on the back.
“Wait… I have an idea,” Jeff exclaimed. The three other men looked at him. “I think it’s undeniable that Y/N has talent right? And we all thought that it was a shame that she was being wasted in Fort Wayne.” Everyone nodded and Eddie cracked an ear splitting, but nervous smile.
“Stu?” Gareth beckoned. The stout man nodded. “Can you do us a huge favor?”
The engine was starting and the five broken members of Head Case sat in silence. Joey was too scared to put the van into gear, knowing that once they pulled out of the parking lot, their fates were sealed. Dave had put a callused hand on your knee, but you shook him off. You all knew what was waiting for you at home. A funeral. Joey regretfully put the van into reverse, his eyes shifting between you and the building behind him. Suddenly, he slammed on the breaks and let out a yelp. In the mirror, almost too small to see, was the ill fitting suit that had welcomed you, and led you to your exit. Stu waved his hands wildly, his cheeks were red. Confused, Joey threw the van into park and cranked his window down.
“Stu?”
“Kids, don’t leave just yet.” Stu huffed. “I need to speak with Ms. Y/L/N” Everyone’s eyes snapped to you as you looked up in confusion. Joey groaned and threw the van back into reverse.
“Sorry, Stu. She isn’t interested.” The van started to move away from the small man, not giving him much of an opportunity to protest.
“Let me out.” You squeaked. The breaks slammed again.
“What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me. Let me out Joey. I will open the door and jump out of the van whether you’re stopped or not, so just let me out.” Joey challenged your hard gaze in the rearview mirror.
“You’re being fucking stupid. If you get out of this van I’m gonna drive away without you.”
“Come on man, don’t be-” Owen tried to interject.
“Shut the fuck up, Owen, before I shut you up myself.” Joey’s cheeks were red and his chest was heaving. You could see the veins in his hands protruding from his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. You unclasped your seatbelt and grabbed the bag by your feet.
“Leave me here then, asshole. I am so done with your bullshit.” You slid open the door and hopped out onto the asphalt.
“Fuck you, Y/N” Joey yelled. The vein in his forehead had popped fully out. You giggled at him as you gripped the door handle.
“God, I can’t believe you ever thought you had a chance with me.” You looked at the other three pairs of stunned eyes staring at you. “Have a nice life, guys.” You slammed the door and felt the heat of the screeching tires of the van pulling away from you. You let out a heavy sigh and looked to Stu, standing stunned on the other side of the new tread marks in the parking lot. He cleared his throat.
“Umm, shall we?” He offered. You sighed heavily and nodded, following the man back into the building that had put your dreams in the blender.
-
Corroded Coffin thought their front man was going to pace a rut right through the floor - that or combust altogether. The tension felt throughout the room was palpable. Did they all just make the biggest mistake of their careers? For a girl?
“Fuck, she’s not gonna come up here” Eddie murmured.
“Who knows? Maybe she will..” Doug retorted. “Maybe-”
“Yeah, maybe she will, just to tell us to fuck ourselves… or worse, she takes us up on our offer and we bomb, or she sabotages us-” Eddie snapped. His eyes fluttered around the room with each flickering thought.
“Or,” Jeff offered, “She comes up here and we add the last piece to our puzzle.” He stretched out cooly on the leather couch, beat up converses leaned on a sleek coffee table. His thumb nail pressed against his lips, threatening to be bit. Gareth grabbed Eddie by the shoulders to ground him in his place. He could feel the man practically vibrating under his grasp.
“Come on, Ed. If it doesn’t work, then we’re still here - a hell of a lot closer than we were yesterday. Things will be the way they’re supposed to. So just sit and take a breather.”
Eddie’s eyes were glowing with angst. He had put himself out there for you once, and he got burned. But there was something about the glow in your eyes as they met his when you got in the elevator, that he couldn’t risk letting you drive away, never to be seen again. God, he felt pathetic. He was putty in your hands, desperately waiting for you to make a move; for you to show up on that elevator again, or to leave his heart in shatters yet again.
The wait felt like forever. The four men sat in suspended silence, waiting, watching, hoping. Their breaths paused as they heard the bell from the reflective elevator. All the men instinctively rose to their feet. Eddie felt his heart hit the floor when your rosy cheeks and glassy eyes followed Stu’s plump figure out of the elevator. Your bottom lip was caught beneath your teeth and your frame shook under the weight of your duffle bag and everyone’s gaze. Your eyes met Eddie’s and then found purchase on the floor. You were equally as mortified as he was. You had no idea what was going to happen. Everyone felt like their lives hung on a thread. Stu was the first to break the silence.
“So… gentlemen. I have given Ms. Y/L/N a small rundown of our…. Situation. I think we should all have a chat.” A wordless acknowledgement was given between everyone and you all found seats around the coffee table Jeff had just been resting on. You found your way to a lonely chair and dropped your bag on the floor. You couldn’t help but let out a small, almost indistinguishable chuckle. Your whole life in that bag, everything you weren’t willing to give up, just plopped on the floor, in the hands of four men you barely knew. You took your cheeks into your palms and listened quietly at Stu’s spiel. Eddie sat in a matching leather chair to yours, but across the table from you. He studied you cautiously, his heart still unsure of what the end goal would be.
“So, basically, Ms/ Y/L/N” Stu blabbed
“Please, call me Y/N” You interjected.
“Oh, yes, well… Y/N. Corroded Coffin was equally impressed with you and your band as you were theirs and didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of creating new music with you. I was thinking about doing a trial run today and tomorrow. We work on some songs, we record and we see how we feel. That gives both you and the boys,” he makes a wide gesture with both of his hands “to have the opportunity to leave, or, hopefully, stay!” He clapped his hands back together with a boom. You took a large exhale and peered at the men sitting with you. They looked just as cautiously hopeful as you did.
Within the hour, you had shaken hands with your temporary bandmates and had signed a contract outlining expectations for the weekend. The record company had put you up in a hotel, since the drive back to Fort Wayne was not a measly 45 minutes like it was to get back to Hawkins. You were to jam and record for today and tomorrow, and by 6pm on Sunday, April 24, 1988, you would know if you were in a new band, or if you were going to take your sorry ass home and try to forget about Corroded Coffin and Head Case.
Eddie watched your nimble fingers sign your contract and suddenly he felt conscious about signing his own name. Did you even see the note he left you? Did you read it or just throw it out? Did you laugh out loud as you ripped it into the bin in the lobby? Or even worse, did you read it and feel the same way? Eddie signed the paper when it made its way to him, with a sweaty grip on the pen and a lump in his throat. He handed the paper back to Stu, now full of graffiti names. Eddie’s eyes flicked to yours as Stu laughed. He used the small intercom by the elevator to tell the secretary to bring up a bottle of champagne. Gareth and Doug congratulate you with chaste hugs, which bring a shy smile to your face. They litter “we’re excited to work with you”s and “welcome to the team”s in your direction. Jeff holds out his hand for you to shake and pulls you in for a side hug.
“Now you’re going to get a real in depth look at what it’s like to work with Munson” the man sneered. You looked over to the scowling man and pulled away from Jeff. You stepped towards Eddie, arm extended for a shake. He warily grabbed your hand, refusing to make eye contact. You felt ice through your veins as your hands touched. You sensed Eddie felt it too, as you saw his shoulders fainty shake in a shiver. You wanted to pull him close, to warm his soul, to confess how much you regretted not hunting him down. But before you was a different Eddie; distant and reserved and unwilling to let you in. Your eyes searched for him, but his gaze was fixed on the shag carpet. You let go of his hand with disappointment.
“Great! With that being said and done… Let's get to work!” Stu Boomed. Eddie sauntered to a small collection of guitars lined on the far wall and plucked a sleek, tanned acoustic guitar off its stand. Everyone else in the room huddled themselves together with notepads and pens, ready to collaborate. Eddie perched on a chair, suddenly out of his slump and in a new trance, he began to talk.
“Okay, so I wrote this one during my break yesterday. It’s still pretty rough, but I really thought it had something special. It’s missing a second verse, but I think it’s catchy.” He positioned his nimble fingers on the neck of the guitar and you watched in awe as the man began to strum. His usual grovely voice became thick and rich, to the point where you thought you were going to drown in it.
“Crashed my car into the woods, I hate the life they told me I would, Live if I don’t try to change, I’ll fake my death and quit pretending….” Everything fell silent as you watched him play. The men around the guitarist - even Stu - had begun to nod their heads and purse their lips in invisible approval. You couldn’t help but let a smile trickle across your face. You watched his Adams apple bob in between phrases and couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles tensed when he took a breath. You wished to sink your teeth into his skin. Your gaze traveled to his angular jaw, and fantasized what it would look like hinging around your neck, or thighs, or…
You were in trouble.
Eddie finished the rough layout of the song and the room became a sea of nods and ‘alright’s. Stu was the first to break the silence.
“It’s great Eddie. Really great. I think I know what would make it even greater.” His attention turned to you and you felt your cheeks flush. “Let Y/N sing it! The perfect way to show off your new bandmate!” Eddie’s cheeks became as red as yours, but seemingly out of frustration.
“I mean I thought-”
“Yeah it’s Eddie’s song. I’m not here to step on any toes here. It sounds great with Eddie’s voice. I mean I’m happy to sing backup or whatever but..” You couldn’t stop the words from spewing out of your mouth. You were hot, overwhelmed with the pairs of eyes on you, and you felt as if you were wading through Jello. Eddie’s eyes lasered into you.
“I mean, I wrote it, I don’t think that’s fair to let someone walk in and…” His words got caught in his throat when he looked from Stu to you. He had seen you this embarrassed and heartbroken before. You wore the same look when he sat with you at the bar. That night, though he would hate to admit it, he really fell for you. Eddie opened his mouth but closed it tight. The air was electric with regrets and dismay - you for signing up for this gig, and Eddie for remembering what happened at the hotel. ‘Get through this weekend’ you both thought, ‘and then, if we never see each other again, that’s that’.
“How about a duet?” Jeff offered. “It would be a nice warm up for Y/N, and maybe we can get some help writing the second verse…” Gareth and Doug cautiously nodded in agreement. Stu clasped his hands together again.
“Great. It’s been decided. A duet it shall be!” The man was almost giddy. “Now, let's get to recording what we have so far.” We. Eddie scoffed.
Everyone scrambled out of their seats and through a thick black door behind you. You walk to Eddie.
“Hey, I am totally fine to just take a backseat, I know its-”
“It’s fine,” the metalhead gritted. “It’s what the record wants.” He brushed past you and through the door. You reluctantly followed.
While Jeff and Gareth work out notes and record, you and Eddie decide that for the verses and chorus that are written, you’ll take the background vocals. You’re eager to not step on toes. Your conversations were short, almost cold. Eddie took his leave to record guitar and you were left with the producer to watch in awe. You had never been in a studio before; you felt so small, unimportant. But Corroded Coffin were naturals, pumping out an awe inducing score in what seemed like no time at all. Stu came and patted you on the shoulder before sitting next to you.
“Exciting, isn’t it?” He offered. It was the softest his voice had been all day.
“I was thinking more overwhelming” you offered back.
“Well kid, I can tell you have a bright future ahead with this band. I just know it.” You couldn’t help but wince at Stu’s compliment.
“I’m just trying to figure out where I fit in. They are so in sync already, what could I offer them?”
“Well, they saw what you could do at the finals, just like we did. You’ve got something special. And I know for a fact Eddie thinks so too. Wouldn’t shut up about you. He was the one that came up with the idea of you joining Corroded Coffin.” Your eyes grew to saucers and you felt your blood heat up. Eddie, the same man that had been giving you the cold shoulder, who ghosted you, who made you feel like a burden, he wanted you here? No way. You physically shook the idea out of your head.
“Why don’t you go to the lounge on the second floor and get yourself something to eat? By that time, we should be wrapping up first takes of instrumentals and I’ll get you and Eddie in the studio while the others break.” Wordlessly, you agreed and let Stu lead you to the elevator. He pushed the button for you and you were, finally, left alone in silence.
-
Eddie could hear his heartbeat in his ears. He wished he could rearrange the layout of the room so he could record and look at you at the same time. Did you like what you heard? Were you impressed? He wanted you to like him, he wanted you to stay. Did you think he looked cool? He wanted to look cool. Were you mad at him? He strummed his guitar fast like his heartbeat. The guys helped cool him down, but he would freak right out again at the idea that it would be just the two of you. He felt the sweat forming on his brow. He shook his head as the original members of Corroded Coffin started another take.
It felt like you stared at the various tour posters littered across the lounge for hours. Your nervous stomach had allowed you to eat very little, but your excited heart led you to explore the space. There were archives from the greats; such as: Bowie, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, The Kinks, Blondie… Your mind drifted to 5 years from now; coming back and visiting here: your gold plaques on the wall, your poster in the lounge, you - the superstar - visiting with her bandmates… maybe something more… You bit your lip as you slinked into a large leather chair adorned with a small side table. You sipped at a latte you had made yourself and looked out the full window in front of you. Indiana’s skyline from the second floor left something to be desired, but it was still a million times better than Fort Wayne. You felt sick at the thought of going back there. You let your eyes drift closed as you fantasized about the views you might see from New York, LA or even Paris. You were torn from your dreams by a soft nudge to your shoulder. Your eyes snapped open to see a beautiful cascade of brown curls that were framing soft, dark eyes. There is a slight pink blush on Eddie’s cheeks and his plump lips are slightly parted. His tongue darted out and traced his bottom lip.
“Hey, uh, we’re ready for you whenever you are” Eddie’s voice seemed hushed and baritone, barely over a whisper. He waited for your acknowledgement and turned to walk back to the elevators.
“Eddie, wait!” You called and he froze. You trudged after him with a huff. “Can I at least walk back with you?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I guess you don’t really know your way around yet.” You tried to match Eddie’s pace, but he was persistent in walking a few strides in front of you. You timidly called after him but the man did not slow until both of you were facing the elevator.
“What, you’re gonna invite me here and just not talk to me?” Your voice quivered. You were looking at Eddie through the reflection of the gold plated elevator doors. He felt like a gorgon, you couldn’t look at him head on, or else you would turn to stone. But his soft brown eyes locked with yours and a wave of guilt flowed over both of you.
“I-” Eddie began, but the ding of the elevator and the friction of the opening doors drove his mouth shut. He turned to you and gestured a hand for you to enter. You sulked in, half expecting him to hit the close button and not follow you in, but he trailed behind you. Suddenly, it felt as if there was no space between the two of you, confined into a box barely big enough for your two bodies. You smelled his cologne, you felt his chest rising and falling. If you got any closer, you felt you would merge into one. Eddie’s eyes dared to make contact with yours, and he quickly dropped his head to his feet.
“I’m sorry..” Eddie’s voice was just over a whisper. “I’m just-” His head shook.
“Eddie, I got your note at the hotel, and I wanted to call you…” Eddie’s head shot back up. His eyes bored into you. The air was thick; you felt as if all of the oxygen had liquified around you. Your legs shook. Eddie took a timid step towards you, neither of you moving too quickly, in fear that the room would become electrified.
“Really?” The man peeped. His hardened features had softened. Stone cold brown eyes had turned a glowing ember. His pale skin had a touch of peach where he had begun to blush. You could see his chiseled jawline tense. His pale pink lips were plump, but his bottom lip was hidden behind his teeth.
“Yes” you breathed. “But I-” With a ding, the invisible tether that kept you two close snapped. The doors in the elevator opened and Eddie lunged to the other side of the elevator. He cleared his throat and threw his hand into his hair, pulling softly at the root. He, once again, gestured for you to exit first. He followed behind you, slapping his palms to his forehead.
“Idiot, fucking idiot, Munson” he scowled under his breath.
You were warmly welcomed back by the rest of the band. A fuller rendition of the chords Eddie had played a few hours earlier rang through the sleek room. Jeff and Doug were adorned with smug grins while Gareth nodded his head to the beat. You couldn’t deny it, the fullness of the music made your heart swell and butterflies in your stomach flutter heavily. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed across your face. Eddie was studying you carefully, but he let out a sigh and pumped his fist in excitement when he saw your smile.
“Wow… this is… just wow.” You were lost for words.
“Yeah, we clean up pretty nice,” Doug quipped. “Hopefully there’s more where that came from!” He winked at you. You snickered shyly. You looked at Eddie. Who’s cheeks matched the rouge of yours.
“All right, fellas. Time to take a break. Let’s let Eddie and Y/N have a go at the first chorus.”
-
The booth was incredibly quiet. You felt as if you could hear your own heart beating. You slid the large headphones over your head and flipped through the lyrics page Eddie had written out for you. Your vocals were highlighted in a bright yellow. You turned to Eddie.
“Have you ever been in a recording studio?” He asked. His words were muffled through the headphones. They hadn’t turned your mics on. You shot him a puzzled look and he laughed at you. It’s the first time you saw his face completely relaxed. His lips parted to show off his pointed canine teeth. His cheeks parted with dimples and his eyes crinkled slightly. Your knees weakened at the sight of him. He grabbed the headphones from your ears and pulled them off your head.
“Have you ever been in a recording studio, I said.”
“Oh, sorry!” you exclaimed. “No, no I haven’t.” Your eyes met with his glowing irises and you couldn’t help but smile. Eddie walked you through the expectations. He got the technicians to turn on your microphones while you both warmed up your voices. Hearing a mixture of your riffing and Eddie’s lip trills in your ears made you feel dizzy. Eddie seemed to notice.
“It’ll get easier when we start, don’t worry”. Eddie’s words were an excellent band aid solution, but as soon as the backing track flooded your ears, along with Eddie’s baritone, you clammed up. Your eyes searched desperately for any producer in the booth to assist you, and when you couldn’t grab their attention, you grounded yourself in the words on the page in front of you. You listened intently to Eddie’s voice, and the harmony that you had discussed. You felt your wet palms glide against your legs as you prepared for your first line of harmonizing.
You let your voice slip out into the microphone, almost forgetting to look up and project the quiet notes that your vocal chords allowed you to, into its facing. You looked to Eddie who shot you an encouraging smile as you continued. You felt your confidence trickle back into your system, like an injection given to you. Suddenly, the music stopped and you heard a low voice through your ears.
“Let’s try that verse and chorus one more time. Y/N, a little louder, please. You got this girl. If we need to, we can turn you down in post, but it’s a lot harder to turn you up. Just let loose and have fun.” The producer boomed. You nodded in understanding and physically shook your nerves out of the tips of your fingers.
-
An hour of recording had gone by in a blink. You and Eddie had successfully recorded the first verse and chorus with harmonies, the only thing that was left was a collection of ‘ooh’s for you to record for in between the lines of the bridge.
“It’s gotta be sexy, exciting, You know?” Eddie had exclaimed when he first showed off his song. Hearing him do them sent a pang to your core that you had never felt before.
“It’s gonna be perfect. Just, don’t think too much about it, okay?” Eddie reassured you, taking off his own headphones and retreating through the small door and to the other side of the glass. You heard his voice in your headphones once more. “You got this, sweetheart.” sweetheart. That should have been motivator enough to give the most saccharine, sensual moans you could muster, but it felt like there was a ball of rubber bands in replacement of your voice box. The track played, now with yours and Eddie’s voices harmonized on top of the track. Your throat constricted as you ad libbed a weak ‘oh’ with a grimace. You saw Eddie and the producer furrow their brows. The track was stopped.
“Try a little bit… looser, Y/N.” Eddie offered. “You’re doing great, just relax”
The producer whispered something in Eddie’s ear and the metalhead nodded solemnly.
-
It took you close to an hour of retakes to get anywhere close to what the band was looking for. You were exhausted, on edge and tired of disappointing. All you wanted to do was run out of the recording booth and take yourself home. You saw Eddie clap the stone faced producer on the back and both of them left the mixing table. You threw your headphones off with an exasperated ‘fuck’. Eddie entered the studio space and he gave you an apologetic smile. Your lip quivered as you fought back angry tears.
“I’m sorry, Ed- I just… It’s just-” Eddie rushed to you, placing his calloused hands on your shoulder. The warmth of his hands made your blood run red hot. You could feel your cheeks heating up.
“Hey now, it’s okay. I know the first time in the studio can be overwhelming. Plus making sounds like,” he huffed out a laugh “and especially in front of strangers… I get it. I told Stu and the production team to take a break, but to keep recording. It’s just you and me.” He shook your shoulders lightly, which elicited a dry giggle from you.
“Thanks, Eddie. I just don’t know if I can do it, you know? Make it sound convincing enough. I get the sound you’re going for, and I just…” You had barely made eye contact with him since he walked in the studio. But you dared look at him and you felt the same pang in your chest you felt when you got Eddie’s note at the hotel. His brown eyes looked like they were going to absorb you completely. His dark eyebrows were slightly furrowed in concerned concentration. His cherry lips formed a pout that matched yours. The soft, dim studio light cast a glow on his pale cheeks. Although his hands firmly gripped at your shoulders, he looked like he was made of porcelain, that you could reach out and shatter him into a million pieces.
“Sorry,” you croaked “I sound like I’m a fucking prude. I do know what kind of moans you’re talking about.” Your eyes grew twice their size at the comment that fell out of your mouth. Eddie’s eyes matched yours and you pulled away from him with an awkward giggle.
“I was thinking we could try something…” Eddie’s voice became low and raspy. His irises darkened as he looked at you, but he still didn’t lose the glint in his eye and the dimpled smirk on his lips. “I’ll moan first into my mic, and then you can go. You don’t have to put on your headphones or anything. No music, or vocals. It’s just you and me.” He leaned his face into his microphone a few feet from yours and let a low, grumbly, quite dramatic moan that you felt throughout your whole body. His dark eyes stayed pinned to you the whole time. As he leaned back from the microphone, an ear splitting smile spread across his face. You couldn’t help but bite your lip to ground yourself and prevent your knees from buckling underneath you. You let out a small moan and giggled softly. Eddie responded with another, more powerful moan. He had squinted his eyes closed and furrowed his brows - you could feel the pleasure and pain coming from his face and his voice. You shut your eyes tight and with a small chuckle, leaned into the microphone. You kept your eyes screwed shut as you let out a moan as over the top as Eddie’s last. You opened your eyes and you looked on in embarrassed confusion as Eddie looked at you, smile faded, his pupils almost completely drowning out his irises. r
“Eddie… I thought we were playing a game, was that not good?” you chided.
“No, that was good..ahem.. Great, but I have an idea… if you’re up for it, of course.” Eddie stalked the few feet to you, invading your space. You felt unbelievably close, but too far away for your comfort. You could feel his soft breaths fanning onto your face. You got a closer look at the freckles that dusted his button nose. You decided you would do anything that he asked you to at that moment. You just didn't want him to back up.
“Do you trust me?” His voice was barely above a whisper, but his voice echoed through your skull. His eyes were pleading, searching for a trace of hesitation in your eyes or your body. He found none as you shook your head. His lips grazed your ear. “I’m gonna be nice and quiet but I want you to let out those pretty moans I know you have in you. So just let go and feel good for me, okay?” Eddie’s instructions sent shivers straight down your spine. Eddie’s hands migrated to the button on your shorts. In a low rumble, barely looking at you, he commanded “gimme a yes, doll.” You violently shook your head with a nervous exhale and smile.
Eddie’s expert fingers undid your button and zipper with ease. One hand grabbed your hip, and the other reached around you to grab the lonely stool behind you. He guided you up onto the stool, spreading your legs to let him closer. His nimble hands slid under your shorts and over your lace panties. Eddie’s head leaned into yours so his mouth was positioned right by your ear again. You could feel a slight smirk form on his lips as he traced along your underwear, already feeling a small wet patch forming.
“Alright doll. You want me to stop, tell me okay? But give me as many pretty noises as I can pull out of you, got it?” you already let out a shudder at his words. His fingers ghosting over where you wanted him the most already made the blood pumping through your system feel like it was boiling. You could explode with the heat you felt throughout your body, and you were only getting warmer. Eddie added more pressure to his fondling and you could feel his cheek heating up on yours. He ran his fingers over your increasingly tender clit and you lulled your head back and bit your lip. Eddie grabbed the back of your head with his free hand and pulled you back up to him, his thumb tracing your bottom lip, to unfasten it from between your teeth. His eyes looked almost black they were filled with so much lust. He raised his eyebrows at you in an insincere chide. You let out a loud exhale and he smirked at you again.
Suddenly, you felt his hand slip out from under your panties and wriggled their way to your skin, feeling your wetness as he made his way back to your sweet spot. You let out a small whimper and you felt Eddie’s hand twitch. His free hand rested on your hip and gripped it with a close to bruising force. Eddie pulled away from you and flashed you a devilish grin.
“That’s more like it.” he praised quietly. Eddie ran his fingers through your slick and let out his own moan. You echoed his moan louder, feeling your legs turn to liquid under you. Your hips involuntarily bucked against Eddie’s hand to add more delicious pressure. Your lips parted in a slight o that made Eddie want to kiss you so badly. He ran his middle finger past your needy entrance and slowly pushed himself inside you. You let out a long whiny moan, already feeling so close to slipping over the edge and the man in front of you had barely done anything to you.
He pumped slowly and carefully, milking sweet sounds out of you that were making it incredibly difficult for him to keep his composure. ‘For the song’ he repeated over and over in his head ‘she’s doing this for the song’; but he couldn’t help how much he loved hearing you unravel, feel your chest heaving against him. You grabbed his wrist lightly and when Eddie looked into your eyes, he felt as if he could get lost in them forever. You looked at him with so much need - you needed him closer, you needed him to make you feel good. He missed being needed. Everyone in Hawkins reminded him of how much better everyone would be without him. But you - you needed him. He pumped faster, eliciting loud, rhythmic moans from your lips. He could see a small sheen of sweat forming on your brow. Your eyes screwed shut as your mouth parted again. You were close. He could feel your legs shaking. He leaned into you again.
“Let go for me doll”
It was like a kill switch. He gave you permission and you let everything go in what was resemblant of a scream of delight. You saw small lights dancing across your screwed shut eyelids and you felt as if a volcano had erupted inside you and encapsulated your body in molten lava. You could barely form a thought, you could hardly believe it. Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy a few hours ago, was making you feel the best you have. Eddie Munson, your new band mate, was begging you to let go for him.
Your new band mate.
Your chest had stopped heaving and your breath had steadied. Your eyes flew open as you remembered where you were and who you were with.
Eddie Munson. Your bandmate. Who fucked you with his fingers. For a song.
You blinked back tears of confusion as your brain finally started to put two and two together. You looked to Eddie’s and saw that his once completely black irises had flooded with worry as he peered at you, his one hand now removed from your pants, the other still holding on to your waist. Your cheeks were flushed red, once from arousal, now from sheer embarrassment. How dare you think that what happened was because Eddie really liked you? You slid off the bar stool, Eddie dropping his hands in the process.
“Hey, doll, are you okay?” You winced at the pet name. You couldn’t cry in front of him, not today, not because of this.
You stepped towards the door while you buttoned your shorts. You shook your head curtly while stepping through the small door and back into the main part of the studio. Eddie flew out the door behind you, desperate to hold you to his chest, but he was scared to touch you as if you were made of sand. You bent down to grab your bags and trudged towards the elevator.
“Y/N wait I-”
“I think I should go back to my hotel. You know we have another long day tomorrow and I… I just, I just need to-” You wiped at your eyes desperately while fingering the down button for the elevator. Finally it opened and you hastily stepped in.
“I’ll call Stu with my hotel information, just in case you need it, but I just - I gotta go, okay? I-I’m sorry.”
Eddie’s eyes were glassy. What the fuck is happening? Moments ago, he was connected to you, intrigued to get closer, to see you want him so bad. But you ran. Just like everyone. But unlike everyone, Eddie couldn’t stand to see you run away from him. As desperate as he was to chase after you, to tell you how much being so close to you meant, his feet were cemented in place. His eyes were glassy as he watched the mirrored elevator doors swallow you whole, leaving him with nothing but his reflection. Eddie bit down on his knuckle and stalked back towards the mixing board. He sat in one of the rolling leather chairs, leg shaking, before promptly getting up and kicking the chair over. He let out a loud ‘fuck’ before leaning over the board, left with the ghost of your body underneath him and the loop of your moans. He had work to do.
Part 3 coming much sooner...
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