Stranger Things - Imagines (Book 2)

Eddie Munson X Reader - Sweet Child O' Mine

A/N - This chapter was heavily inspired by the book Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid, which I devoured in under 48 hours. I've also added in the Sheryl Crow cover of Sweet Child O' Mine for a little extra dash of inspiration. This feels like I could probably turn it into a multiple-chapter story at some point, so I hope you all like it as much as I do. 

"I just don't understand why we need her," Eddie ranted, pacing back and forth in the rehearsal room the label had rented for the band. At this point, he'd been whining about the newest introduction to the band for the best part of an hour, with little input from the rest of his bandmates. After all, Gareth had dug your voice on your debut album, and Jeff was pretty sure you were what the band needed to step up into the charts. But Eddie wasn't happy with the decision, and even if he didn't have any say in the matter, it wasn't going to stop him from complaining about it in the hopes of changing Frankie's mind. 

"You know, she might not be all too bad-"

"She's a goddamn pop star," Eddie interrupted, finally stopping his pacing to shoot a glare in Gareth's direction. "She's going to turn us into some shitty knock-off version of the Eurythmics," he pressed on, shaking his head in frustration. 

"The Eurythmics are pretty cool," Jeff supplied, rather unhelpfully. "Annie Lennox is so fucking cool-"

"Yeah, well, if they asked me to have Annie Lennox in the band, I might not have minded so much, but this girl is a carbon copy of Madonna but with less fans-"

A snort of laughter sounded from the doorway, and Eddie froze to the spot, his eyes pressed closed. "Funny," you hummed, making your way into the room and dumping this oversized purse onto the floor next to where the guys had stored their guitars, laying down your guitar case as delicately as you could manage. "I always thought I was more of a Stevie Nicks type, but you know, people always tend to see you better than you see yourself," you pressed on, shrugging as you turned to smile at Eddie, practically ignoring the other boys.

"You think your album was like Stevie?" he uttered, an eyebrow lifted at you in question, clearly not in agreement. 

"Oh, that pile of crap? Absolutely not," you chuckled. "That was all record label politics and white tape, you know the drill. But my stuff, that's where you'll see the real resemblance," you pressed on, offering him the sweetest damn smile he'd ever seen. 

Actually, now that he was looking at you, I mean, properly looking at you, he could see the resemblance after all. You were in these high-waisted flared jeans that looked like they belonged back in the 70s, even though you were definitely too young to have been wearing them that far back, and this real pretty flowy top that made you look almost ethereal. And to top it all off, you were in these chunky platform boots that made you almost as tall as he was. Hell, you were gorgeous, dressed like you were heading to a photoshoot rather than a rehearsal, and suddenly felt pretty insecure in his ripped jeans, t-shirt, and beat-up old sneakers. 

"Yeah, well, I haven't heard any of your stuff yet, so I'll hold judgment on that for now," he murmured, tearing his attention away from you as he grabbed his guitar from the stand, marching away from you to the other side of the room to begin tuning it. 

"He's cheery, huh?" you snorted, turning your smiles on Jeff and Gareth.

Gareth looked a little star-struck, his eyes focused on you, but Jeff seemed unphased. "He's not used to letting other people make decisions for the band," he confessed quietly. "Give him some time, he'll come around."

You nodded, hesitating for a moment. "Do you want to hear something I've been working on?" you called out, crouching down to open up your guitar case, forcing yourself to keep your eyes focused on your work, even though you were dying to see the intrigue on Eddie's face. "It's just a cover, nothing exciting, but I've been putting my spin on it," you pressed on, rising to your full height with your guitar in hand.

"Is that an acoustic Rickenbacker?" Eddie started, eyes fixed on your guitar in a second. "They make like 10 of those a year; how'd you get it?"

You shrugged slightly. "I've got a friend that works in their head office. They thought it would be a good look for me to play it. Even got me this custom finish," you pressed on, showing off the perfect powder blue colour. 

"That's wild-"

"You want to hold her?" you hummed, outstretching it in his direction. "I promise she won't bite," you pressed on. 

"Thought you were showing us some cover you'd been working on," he uttered, arms folding over his chest, even though you could tell he was just itching to get a go on your guitar. 

"Oh yeah, silly me," you chuckled, bustling over to one of the seats and resting the guitar delicately in your lap. "You guys know Guns N' Roses, right?"

Jeff snorted with laughter, receiving another glare from Eddie. Already, you were winning the rest of the band over, and there was nothing that irked him more than that feeling of losing control of a situation. 

"Yes, we know Guns N' Roses," Eddie muttered. 

"Great, well, I fucking love that one song, Sweet Child O' Mine, right, so I thought if I just slow it down, play it acoustically, get some rasp in there, really turn it on its head and see what happens, you know?"

"You don't have to explain the concept, Sweetheart," Eddie bit. "Just play the song."

You held up your hands in surrender, positioning yourself more comfortably, and plucking the first couple of notes. "He's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories, where everything was as fresh as the bright blue sky. Now and then when I see his face he takes me away to that special place and if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry. Whoa, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine. Whoa, oh, oh, oh, sweet love of mine."

Shit, Eddie hated to admit it, but this worked. Everything you were putting into it made sense. The song took on a whole new meaning with you behind it. 

"He's got eyes of the bluest skies as if they thought of rain; I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain. His hair reminds me of a warm, safe place where as a child I'd hide and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by. Whoa, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine. Whoa, oh, oh, oh, sweet love of mine. Whoa, oh, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine. Oh, oh, oh, oh, sweet love of mine."

You hesitated for a moment, glancing up at Eddie only to find him already watching you, his eyes focused on your face.

"Where do we go? Where do we go now? Where do we go? Where do we go now? Oh, where do we go now? Where do we go? Where do we go? Sweet child? Ooh, where do we go now? Ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah, Where do we go? Oh, where do we go? Where do we go now? Where do we go? Oh, where do we go? Where do we go now? Now now now now now now now. Sweet child, sweet child o' mine."

There was no chance of Eddie denying your talent. Hell, it seemed like it all came to you so naturally. And here he was, staring at you like a fucking idiot.

"Holy shit," Gareth interrupted. "I always knew you could sing, but that's not what I was expecting," he pressed on, looking so in awe of you that it was a little startling. 

"'s good," Eddie uttered. "But it's no Stevie Nicks," he pressed on, a small, teasing smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, the first olive branch between the two of you. 

"I mean, who can even begin to compare to the Queen?" you hummed out, silently thankful for the way the tension in the room had broken. "But it'll do, right? I won't go making your band into some shitty pop group?"

Eddie hesitated for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. "I think we can make it work."

Please consider supporting me for just £3 using Ko-Fi. The link is available on my profile page. If you have any questions about Ko-Fi please feel free to private message me. Thank you. L x