#wrestling fan! eddie munson

[corrodedcoughin]

I really truly believe Steve would love the power rangers and wwe. And just thinking about the way eddie would actively encourage him? Setting time aside so they can watch wrestling matches and get Steve to explain parts of the Drama that he doesn’t understand? Play fighting with him and laughing at the ridiculous moves? Setting up a very shoddy ‘ring’ in the yard and both of them coming out of the trailer door to their own entrance music and moves? All the party watching them and joining in, steve being so happy that everyone is having a good time and just being silly together. He helps Robin come up with a signature move and she has a Big Cage Match with Eddie with fake props and a whole Plot Line.

Then Eddie asking Will to paint Steve as the green ranger, Steve in a megazord, steve with alpha and Zordon! Steve as a power ranger for Halloween and smiling bigger and bigger every time somebody recognises what he is! Eddie watching on and getting second hand joy from it!!!

Steve with interests and Eddie supporting him and just!!! Everyone loving seeing him enjoying himself!!!

[loveshotzz]

Every time I go to a WWE special event party at a friends house, all I can think of is a meet cute with Eddie at one.

[dippindaz]

Eddie Munson x reader: they support him as he goes on his first tour & she gets jealous of his girl fans

Thank you for requesting! I hope you enjoy ❤️ ends with some good old fluff of course.

The van rumbled beneath you as Corroded Coffin’s tour vehicle winds down another lonely stretch of highway. The guys are in the back, swapping riffs and yelling over who gets to control the cassette deck next. Eddie’s laughter rings out, carefree and warm, but you’re sitting shotgun, staring out the window, your thoughts a million miles away.

The tour was supposed to be everything Eddie dreamed of—his big break, the culmination of years spent pouring his soul into music. And you were thrilled for him, genuinely. You’d quit your job and packed your bags to be by his side, to make sure he didn’t lose himself in the chaos of the road.

But no one warned you about the screaming girls.

They swarm at every stop, clutching at Eddie like he’s the second coming of Ozzy. He takes it all in stride, charming smiles and playful winks, basking in the attention without a second thought. You know he loves you, but every autograph he signs, every picture he poses for with an arm slung around some adoring fan, feels like a pinprick to your chest.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Eddie’s voice startles you. He’s climbed into the passenger seat, leaning back with his arms crossed, his usual easy grin replaced with a look of concern. “You’ve been quiet today.”

“I’m fine,” you say too quickly, your gaze fixed on the horizon.

He tilts his head, studying you. “Liar.”

Eddie’s dark eyes linger on you, searching for cracks in your armor. “C’mon princess. Don’t do that thing where you bottle it up until it explodes. Talk to me.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s nothing, Eddie. Really. Just tired from the drive.”

“Right,” he says, drawing out the word skeptically. His fingers drum idly on the dashboard, but his expression remains serious. “Well, when you’re ready to tell me what’s really going on, I’m here.”

You force a small smile, but it feels brittle. “Thanks.”

Eddie watches you for another moment, then sighs and stands. “Alright, Miss ‘I’m Fine.’ But you owe me one later.” He plants a kiss on the crown of your head before retreating to the back of the van, his energy magnetic as always, drawing the guys back into their chaotic jam session.

You let out a slow breath, the tension in your chest refusing to fade. The rest of the drive passes in a blur of laughter and off-key singing from the band, but you barely hear it, too busy wrestling with the ache that’s been gnawing at you since the tour began.

—————————————————————————

The venue is loud, packed with fans pressed shoulder to shoulder, a sea of heads bobbing to the beat of Corroded Coffin’s set. Eddie is electric on stage, commanding the crowd with every growl of his guitar and every howl into the mic. His hair flies as he moves, sweat glistening under the stage lights.

You’re proud of him. God, you’re so proud of him. But standing on the sidelines, you feel like an outsider in his world.

When the band wraps their set, the crowd explodes into cheers, and the guys bask in the adoration as they head backstage. You linger behind, watching as a cluster of girls presses against the barricade, calling Eddie’s name. He’s stopped to sign a few things, that grin of his plastered across his face. One of the girls leans in close, shouting something you can’t make out that makes him laugh.

Your stomach twists. You know it’s nothing—Eddie has never given you a reason to doubt him—but the insecurity and unease claws at you.

“Hey, you coming?” Gareth calls from the side door, snapping you out of your trance.

“Yeah,” you mumble, forcing your legs to move.

————————————-————————————

The backstage room is a frenzy of noise—gear being packed up, beers being cracked open, and the guys reliving their favorite moments from the show. Eddie is the center of it all, animated as he recounts some joke a fan told him.

You sit on the edge of a couch, picking at your fingers, trying to blend into the background. Eddie notices eventually, his grin faltering as his gaze locks onto you. He excuses himself from the group, weaving through the chaos until he’s standing in front of you.

“Hey,” he says softly, crouching to meet your eye level. “You’ve been off all day. What’s going on?”

You shake your head, forcing a smile. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” he says without hesitation, his brows furrowing. “You’re not fine. You barely said a word during the drive, you didn’t even watch most of the set, and now you’re sitting here like a ghost. Talk to me.”

Your chest tightens. “Eddie, I said I’m fine. Can we just drop it?”

“No, we can’t just drop it!” His voice is sharper than he intended, but he took a deep breath to steady himself and glanced around the area. “Look, I know something’s bothering you, and I can’t fix it if you won’t let me in.”

The frustration and exhaustion bubble up, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“Fine! You want to know what’s bothering me? It’s those girls, Eds. The ones who throw themselves at you after every show. The ones who look at you like you’re the only person in the world.”

Eddie blinks, taken aback. “Wait, what? You’re jealous?”

You cross your arms, feeling both exposed and defensive. “I’m not jealous. I just… I don’t like the way they act around you, okay? And I don’t like how easy it is for you to smile at them like it’s nothing.”

His expression softens as he stands and takes a step closer. “Angel, you know they don’t mean anything to me.”

“I know that,” you snap, your voice wavering. “But it’s hard to feel like I matter when there’s a line of girls getting your attention, and your winks, and laughs.”

Eddie stares at you, guilt flickering across his face. He opens his mouth to respond but hesitates, as if searching for the right words. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t realize…”

“Yeah,” you say quietly, your anger fading into a dull ache. “I feel like I’m just here, watching you live your dream while I fade into the background.”

Eddie shifted, sinking down onto the couch beside you, his shoulders slumping. “You’re not in the background,” he says, his voice low and steady. “You’re the reason I’m here. You believed in me when no one else did. Hell, you believed in me when I didn’t.”

You glance at him, tears burning your eyes. “Then why does it feel like I’m competing for your attention?”

He exhales slowly, reaching out to take your hand. “I’m an idiot. I’ve been so caught up in all this—the shows, the fans—that I didn’t stop to think about how it might feel for you. But you’re not competing, okay? You’re the only thing I want in this world and I’d give it all up for you. Nothing even comes close to you.”

You look down at your joined hands, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. “I just… I don’t want to lose you, Eddie… but I don’t want to hold you back either.”

“You won’t,” he says firmly, leaning closer. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried. I’m yours, sweetheart. Always. And you’re not holding me back.”

The tension between you eased and Eddie tugged you into his arms, holding you tightly. His embrace is warm and familiar, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“I’ll do better,” he murmurs against your hair. “I’ll make sure you know how much you mean to me. Starting now.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah? How are you gonna do that?”

He smirks, the mischievous glint in his eye returning. “How about a private serenade? Just you, me, and my guitar?”

You laugh softly, the sound easing the last of the tension in your chest. “That sounds like a good start.”

Eddie grins and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good. Now let’s get out of here. I think we’ve had enough of this circus for one night.”

With his arm wrapped around you, Eddie leads you out of the noisy backstage area, his presence steady and reassuring. For the first time in days, the knot in your chest began to unwind.

Because as long as you have Eddie, the rest doesn’t matter.

[divorceconnoisseur]

There's a beat of silence where they just stare at each other. Eddie's face wavers for a second before he snorts, running his hand down his face. "What are we even doing here, man?"

Steve falters, the inanity of the situation hitting him. "I, uh, I think we're about to actually fistfight over-- over who a bunch of 14-year-olds think is cooler."

Eddie considers that briefly, tapping his fingers against his mouth before nodding. "Yeah, okay, I've heard of worst causes. Dukes up, Harrington, let's go!" Eddie pushes up his sleeves and waves his fists in the air cartoonishly as he starts to circle Steve.

Steve laughs, following Eddie as he goes like a compass drawn north. "Oh yeah, man? To the death, right?"

"Of course. Is there any other kind of fight?" Eddie says, overly serious, and abruptly tackles Steve.

They wrestle for a moment, and it's playful and stupid, but it still takes Steve an embarrassingly short amount of time to get Eddie in a headlock.

"This is just sad, man," Steve teases as Eddie struggles. "Those guns just for show, then?"

"Oh shit oh shit not the hair please, please have mercy O King Steve," Eddie laughs breathlessly.

Steve considers it-- Eddie seems to take as much care in his hair as Steve does, and real respects real-- and in that moment of hesitation, Eddie hooks his leg around Steve's and pulls.

Steve yelps as Eddie cackles, dragging them both down into the grass.

He hits the ground with a choked gasp, breath knocked out of him, and he squints up at the sky, unsuccessfully trying to hold back a grin.

He turns his head to say something to Eddie but loses his breath a second time for a very different reason.

Eddie's still giggling to himself in little fits, winding down, and there's a lightness to him at this moment that Steve's never seen, only heard described by the kids pre-Vecna. Laughter suits Eddie Munson, much better than terror or guilt or seriousness, and Steve's suddenly aware that he would do anything in this moment to keep that surprised look of happiness on his face a second longer.

Eddie catches his eyes and turns his head toward him. He's got grass stuck in his hair, and Steve doesn't think before he reaches over.

It's soft. Softer than he was expecting. He's careful not to catch any of Eddie's hair as he pulls out the grass and ends up lingering longer than he means to, setting a curl back to rights before realizing that this is, like, maybe a little weird.

He jerks back, and the back of his hand brushes Eddie's cheek, which is-- which is--

Warm. Soft, too, but with the rough start to stubble, and the feeling of it lingers against his hand like a brand.

Eddie's eyes, dark and impossibly wide, watch him, quiet for once. He wets his lips before speaking, and Steve's eyes catch on that, too, before darting back up to Eddie's. Which, god, what even was that? Why-- why is he--?

"A draw, then," Eddie says, turning over onto his stomach and kicking up his feet, and the weird atmosphere vanishes like it never was. "You are a worthier opponent than I realized, Steve Harrington."

"Oh yeah?" Steve says, relieved and disappointed. "Well, you're not so bad yourself."

Eddie clicks his tongue and fans himself. "You're too kind."

Steve looks away, tracking the clouds passing overhead. "No, really. I know I haven't exactly been, y'know, the world's best welcoming committee-"

"Was pretty convinced you hated my guts, yup." Eddie agrees, nodding.

"I don't. I never did. You're just--" Steve wracks his brain, trying to fit a word to the squirming feeling in his chest that Eddie inspires. "You're really good, y'know?"

"I... don't know, actually." Eddie's voice goes flat, and when Steve turns back to look at him, he's looking at Steve like he's a live snake, or something else dangerous and close to his vulnerable bits.

"You're good with the kids. Good for the kids, too. God, Will's really opened up since he joined your dumb nerdfest. You're good with and to the girls, too, and Jonathan, and Argyle, and probably anyone else that crosses your path. You are, patently, a good dude."

Eddie's mouth opens and closes, but Steve barrels on, feeling electric and more than a little crazy. "And, and it's just-- I don't know, I just--"

"Harrington, if you're about to tell me you think I'm a better man than you, I will lose it," Eddie interrupts regardless, voice high and reedy. "I know you're being, like, genuine and honest right now, but I will laugh in your goddamn face-"

"No, it's not that."

"Okay, I know this directly contradicts what I just said, but the speed with which you said that... Ouch."

"No," Steve shakes his head, frustrated. "I didn't mean it like that. It's-- it's not a competition."

Eddie's eyebrows leap up. "It's not? I invite you to remember what we've spent the last few weeks on."

"That was just an excuse," He snaps his mouth closed the second the words leave his mouth.

"Excuse?" Eddie repeats slowly.

"I just. I don't know, man. Maybe," he swallows. "Maybe I just couldn't handle the thought of you being good to me."

"... Why not?" Eddie asks, eyes focused on him, open, not judging, and god, this is exactly what Steve was worried about.

Eddie looks at him, and Steve--

Kisses him. Can't really do anything else but kiss him.

And when Eddie, after the longest moment of Steve's life, starts kissing him back? It's like the answer to a question he hadn't realized he'd been asking.

Turns out it's not the kids' attention he'd wanted-- or not just the kids' attention, anyway.

When Eddie pulls back, lips red and wet, eyes dark and focused just on him, Steve knows he's finally won it.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Of toppings and fillings

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Dessert

Rated: M

Tags: Established relationship; Idiots in love; Competitive idiots, to be more specific; Sexually explicit language; Sexual innuendo; Eddie is a little shit

It starts out innocently enough. Steve is lounging on the couch, Eddie sprawled on top of him. On the television, some home-making show is running, but Steve has dropped into a pleasant doze and isn't really paying attention. 

Until Eddie says, “Man, I could go for some of that right now.” 

Steve blinks at the screen.

“And there it is,” chirps the host. “Crispy meringue with that juicy filling underneath, which is the perfect mix of sweet and tart. With this delicious dessert, your family will-” 

Steve huffs. “It probably isn't half as good as my nonna's recipe. Her pies were the best.”

“Hah!” Eddie exclaims, propping himself up and ignoring the pained groan when his elbows dig into Steve’s ribs. “That only shows you never tried my granny’s baking.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Steve wheezes. He tries to shove Eddie away, only he’ll have none of it, and within seconds, things escalate into a full-on wrestling match. “Are you trying to insult my nonna’s baking?” 

“My granny’s baking,” Eddie purrs, pinning Steve’s wrists over his head. His breath fans over Steve's face, soft and warm. “Would fuck your nonna’s baking against the kitchen counter like a little bitch, and your nonna’s baking would enjoy it.” 

Steve sputters. Eddie smirks. 

Steve feels his teeth grit. 

“Oh yeah?” Prove it, Munson.” 

*

“Okay,” says Robin. “Walk me through this again. He shit-talked your nonna, so you made a bet on whose recipe was better? You’re supposed to whisk it, dingus.” 

Steve groans. His wrist is hurting. There’s dough stuck in his hair. “Yes, Robin, for the fifth time. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Why is it so hard to understand the difference between whisking and stirring?” she snaps, making to snatch the bowl from his hands.

“Hey,” Dustin bellows. He’s standing next to Eddie, who is furiously attacking his own bowl with the hand mixer, bits of filling spraying in all directions. “No cheating, he’s supposed to do it alone.”

“Cut him some slack, Henderson,” Eddie says, tossing a grin in Steve’s direction. “It’s hard, getting a proper filling all on your own.” 

Robin slouches back against the counter, hiding her scowl behind nonna’s cookbook.

“It seems a bit excessive is all I'm saying. You could’ve bet for money, like normal people? How am I ever supposed to eat anything from your kitchen again, knowing that you’ve been on your knees in here, scrubbing dough off the floor, clad in nothing but a frilly apron, have you thought about that? It’s unhygienic, Steve!” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Steve hisses, throwing a frantic look at Dustin. Luckily, he’s busy shouting at Eddie about tempering the eggs, whatever that means. “And for the record, I’m not losing this. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was ten years old, while Eddie … I’ve seen him burn SphaghettiOs, Rob. There’s no way!” 

“Cooking is different from baking, though,” she says. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Say, is it supposed to look like scrambled eggs?” 

“Whoops,” Eddie says, knocking a bag of flour off the counter with his elbow. “Leave it, Henderson. I’m sure Steve won’t mind cleaning it up later.” 

Steve growls, throwing his whisk down so hard it bounces off the counter and hits the nearest wall.

“C’mon, let’s get this thing in the oven.” 

*

“Esteemed jury,” Eddie declares, setting his pie down next to Steve’s. “This is it, the moment of truth. Two pies have entered into this contest, but only one shall emerge victorious, forever determining who-” 

“Quit it,” Steve says. “Or are you scared to admit defeat? Your topping is as flat as your ass.”

He nods down at their creations. The perfect golden tufts of meringue crowning his own, and the unimpressive, brown crust on Eddie’s.

Eddie grins. “Why don’t you leave your verdict on my topping skills for later, big boy?” 

The kids, who’ve been following the exchange with swiveling heads, frown. 

“Are you still talking about pie?” El asks. “It doesn’t seem like you’re still talking about-”

Robin sighs. “Just cut them and get this over with.” 

Steve nods, grabbing one of the knives from her hand while Eddie takes the second. 

“Look at this and weep, Munson,” he says, cutting a slice and lifting it out of the pan for everyone to see. “Perfect, homemade lemon meringue pie. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just as it should-” 

The topping slides off. A chorus of ooofs goes through the spectators.

“Erm, that’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sure it still tastes fine, it's just-” 

The filling dissolves into a puddle. It lands next to the soggy pile of topping with a wet squelch. The ooofs turn into eeews. Robin cringes. 

“Yeah, no offense, dingus, but I’m not eating that. Gives me icky mouth feels just looking at it.” 

It’s Will’s voice that makes them both turn around.

“Oh, wow! That looks delicious, Eddie!” 

“Thank you,” Eddie says as the kids scramble to hold their plates out to him. With a large smile in Steve’s direction, he hands a particularly large slice to Will. A perfectly shaped slice of bright yellow pie with a beautiful, firm topping of meringue on top. It’s snowy white under the brown crust. 

Steve drops the knife. 

“But I don’t- …” he mutters, sinking down into a chair with wobbly legs. “How did you- … You don’t even know how to cook!” 

“I don’t,” Eddie smiles indulgently, sliding him a plate. “But I’ve been watching my granny bake since I was tall enough to peep over the counter.”

He presses a fork into Steve’s hand and a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he saunters off towards the kitchen. 

“Enjoy your pie, sweetheart. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from the closet. The apron, too.” 

Steve gulps around his first bite of pie. 

More holiday drabbles

Looks like his nonna’s baking isn't the only thing that's gonna get fucked.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

S.H E.M

18+ Minors DNI

Warning: Smutty talk, drinking, sibling 'rivalry' between Robin and Eddie

When Steve was 15, he had his own band, a psychedelic rock band called Shem. While he recorded a couple of albums, the band eventually fell apart and went their separate ways. No one knew that Steve Harrington was behind Shem. He had kept that private for a reason. It had disappointed him that the band hadn't worked out and even more so when he heard how disappointed what fans he had were. It surprised him to know that Eddie Munson was one of those fans.

"You've never heard of Shem?!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Nope, can't say that I have," Steve said, keeping a straight face.

He could practically feel Robin rolling her eyes from her spot beside him. He had gotten drunk one night and told her, showing her the video tape. Eddie, Steve, and Robin were hanging out at Steve's place when they started talking about the musicians they had crushes on. Eddie had brought up his first crush on the lead singer and guitarist of the band, Shem. He had no clue that he was sitting right next to him.

"I was 16 when I first heard him. It's such a shame that they didn't last very long. They're part of what inspired me to start my own band," Eddie said. "I think that if he was here right now, I would get on my knees and blow him."

Steve nearly choked on his beer. Robin patted him on the back and gave Eddie a look.

"Seriously?"

"You guys have a problem with me talking about blowing a guy?" He asked mockingly.

"Well, you know I'm a lesbian. So, yeah, problem," she said with a glare.

"Don't be homophobic, Robin," Eddie said, throwing a chip at her.

"Don't be lesbianphobic, Eddie," Robin replied, throwing the chip right back at him and he reached around Steve to flick her on the ear.

Robin shrieked and returned the favor. Eddie got up and chased her around the room. It turned into a wrestling match that ended with Robin winning by sitting on his back, pinning his arms beneath him, and playing his head like the bongos. Wayne always said that if Eddie had a sister, Robin would be it. That led to Robin calling him Uncle Wayne, and eventually, the rest of the party started to call him that as well. It also led to Eddie pouting that he had to share his uncle with everyone now. Wayne hit him over the head with a newspaper for that, especially when he got even grumpier when Dustin got Wayne a coffee mug for his birthday that said: everyone's favorite uncle.

"Uncle! Uncle!" Eddie cried and Robin got up off of him.

Eddie collapsed next to Steve, grinning. Steve laughed and shook his head at him.

"So, what about you? Do you have a problem with me talking about blowing a guy?" He asked.

"As long as you don't have a problem with me talking about blowing a guy and going down on a girl?" Steve asked with a raised eyebrow, and Eddie laughed.

"No, man, no problem with it. Didn't know that about you. Thanks for telling me," Eddie said with a gentle smile. "So, favorite male celebrity crush? Come on, I told you mine."

"I won't tell you his name, but he's more of a local celebrity," Steve said, blushing.

"Oooh, I love to guess," Eddie said, clapping his hands and shaking his head. "Local celebrity. . .local celebrity. Is it the weatherman?" Eddie asked, and Steve shook his head. "The news anchor?"

"Nope."

"The mayor!"

"Nope!"

"Ooh, I know! Hop! It's Hop. He is a local celebrity," Eddie said, clapping his hands.

"Well, I mean, not anymore, I don't," Steve said, blushing.

"Oh, you too! Once upon a time that was me as well," Eddie said with a giggle. "Ugh, the first time he arrested me. . . I definitely wanted to call him Daddy."

"Ew!" Robin exclaimed.

"I used to wish he would arrest me," Steve said, and the two boys clinked their beers together.

"Okay! I am ending this!" Robin exclaimed and stood up, leaving the room.

When she got back she put in a tape and handed Eddie the remote.

"I am going to sleep in the basement so that I don't have to hear anything," Robin said and proceeded to stomp downstairs.

Eddie played the tape and smiled when he saw 15 year old Steve surrounded by band members in his garage, a guitar in his hand.

"Oh man, you look so cute," Eddie said, nudging him. "This is going to be good."

Young Steve stepped up to the mic and started playing, then he started singing. Eddie gaped at the screen, having recognized the music, the sound of the singer's voice. The tape ended, and Eddie sat there, stunned. He shook his head, took off his vest, and put his hair into a ponytail. Eddie got up and knelt in front of Steve.

"Can I?" Eddie asked.

"Um, yeah," Steve said, and Eddie began to unbuckle his belt.

Later that night, Steve and Eddie laid naked in bed, wrapped up in each other's arms.

"Okay, I have to know now because we've had each other's dicks in our mouths and that's pretty intimate, who's your local celebrity crush?" Eddie asked.

"Eddie Munson," Steve replied with a laugh.

"Yeah, I think I know my own name," Eddie giggled. "But seriously, who's your crush?"

"No, that's my local celebrity crush. It's you," Steve replied.

"Oh, yeah, I am a local celebrity," he said, laughing and pouncing on Steve, straddling his waist. "It's funny how things work out."

"Stranger things and all that. . ."

Eddie silenced him with a kiss.

[the-redcrate]

I'm an Eddie Munson is a NWA fan Truther. You know our boy went feral for professional wrestling. The Stories! THE DRAMA! THE LOUD PERSONALITIES AND MOVEMENTS! Eddie Munson definitely camped out at his friend's houses every Saturday night to watch NWA. He could do a perfect Nature Boy whoop.

Eddie Munson IS A PROFESSIONAL WRESTLING FAN.

[heelbucks]

wrestling fan! eddie munson headcanons

notes: by popular demand! if you enjoy these please send in requests for him but do it on @jensensloser !! i don’t wanna flood this account with just stranger things :)

minors dni

80’s

would absolutely love roddy piper, his favorite match is the ‘83 dog collar match against greg valentine

gets most of his confidence from listening to heel promos

he named his pet snake jake in honor of one of his favorites

absolutely makes one of his dnd npcs sound like macho man

he takes dustin and mike to their first show and they now love it too

has broken a bone trying to learn the “superfly splash”

90’s & 2000’s

is a slut for the undertaker and ministry of darkness

aspires to be mick foley

when he finds out motörhead sings triple h’s themes, hunter becomes his new favorite wrestler

part of the group of kids who got suspended for saying “suck it” constantly doing the crotch chop

he absolutely gets water everywhere trying to learn how to do hunters entrance

HYPES HIMSELF UP LISTENING TO SEXY BOY

considers going to a training school instead of college

eddie has a major crush on chyna

screams and argues w/ people about the montreal screw job

[choke-me-joey]

Eddie Munson x fem metalhead cheerleader

Summary: Based on this - how Eddie met his not so typical cheerleader girlfriend and a little exploration of their relationship.

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smoking, underage drinking, drug use, swearing, flirting, smut.

AN: there is a scene in this based on a ✨️video✨️ i had sent to me by a beautiful anon and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. If you want the link you can find it on my page or message me and I'll try to send it!

📢 TAG LIST IS NOW FULL 📢

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

The following Tuesday, after practice and your homework, you'd driven over to The Hideout to see the famous Corroded Coffin play to their crowd of regular drunks. You parked your car in the lot, getting out and straightening out your cropped Iron Maiden shirt. You'd paired it with some shorts and fishnets, as well as your Docs and your jacket which, courtesy of Eddie, now had a WASP pin resting proudly on the lapel.

You made your way into the, quite honestly, dump of a bar, impressed that you didn't even need a fake ID to get in. You grinned when you saw Corroded Coffin setting up on the small stage and made a beeline for your friends and your....Eddie.

"What's up, rockstars?" You smile, giving Eddie a cheeky pinch to the butt as he was bent over with his back to you sorting out his peddle. He angled his head to look at you, and nearly keeled over at the sight of your outfit. He recovered, standing up to hug you.

"Now this just isn't fair, sweetheart, gonna be playing our set with a fucking boner," he groans into you ear, making you giggle. He subtly kissed your head.

"Holy shit you actually came!" Gareth said, grinning at you from behind his drum kit. "Eddie said you might not make it because of practice."

"Like I'd miss the infamous Corroded Coffin live in concert," you gesture to the homemade banner behind them. "I'm excited!"

"You're probably the only one in the audience who is," Jeff laughs, glancing over the few people who had come to the bar to watch them play.

"Well, just remember who your biggest fan was in the early days, yeah?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Eddie winks at you and you have to wrestle down the urge to kiss him, not knowing how he felt about your...whatever this was between you being made super public yet. You instead settle on shooting him a wink and going to get yourself a drink whilst they finished setting up, patiently waiting for their set to start.

You were surprised when the bartender handed you a beer, apparently Eddie had sorted you with a drink before you'd gotten there, and again that meant nobody was checking your ID. You said nothing, taking your beer and sitting at a table close to the stage where you had a good view and Eddie could definitely see you.

The band start their set and you're completely blown away. Not only are they actually pretty damn good, the way Eddie carries himself on stage is incredible. He's confident, charismatic, nothing new there, but he eludes this sexy rockstar attitude that makes your pussy clench as you watch him. He plays with an energy that should be for 80,000 people not just 0.01% of that.

You watch his skilled fingers running up and down the frets, effortlessly playing chords without even glancing down. And when he sang, god your heart skipped a beat. His voice was the perfect mix of soft melodic singing and raw yells and shouts. They played a mix of covers and their own songs, their musical influences clear in those original pieces. Your favourite so far had been their rendition of Paranoid by Black Sabbath, and a song called Shallow Grave of their own. You had screamed and shouted and applauded, probably too enthusiastically really, but you didn't care. They were good, and Eddie was hot.

As the notes of another original song, Strangers in the Dark, came to an end, Eddie spoke into the microphone.

"We're going to change things up a little bit now folks, with a new cover dedicated to a very special person who happens to be our number one fan. This one's for you, airhead." He shot you a smirk and you grinned back at him, your cheeks flushing. "Sing along if you know it, maybe even dance a little if you're drunk enough."

The opening notes of Edge of Seventeen by Stevie Nicks, but with a Corroded Coffin touch, began to play and your jaw dropped. You fucking loved this song, and your mind and heart race when you remember you had told Eddie that, probably about 3 weeks ago when you'd first started speaking properly, only mentioned it briefly when he'd seen the tape of Bella Donna sticking out of your bag.

He'd...learnt this, for you? Made his band learn this for you without even knowing if you'd ever come to one of his shows?

It's a good thing you were sat down because your knees felt stupidly weak.

"Just like the white wing dove, sings a song sounds like she's singing, ooh, ooh, ooh," Eddie croons; his voice could have brought tears to your eyes. He wasn't playing guitar for this, cupping the mic in his hands in a way that should have been illegal.

You sit in your seat, singing along, watching as a few drunks get up to dance, mostly middle aged women who look as if Stevie Nicks is their lord and saviour.

"Come on honey, your boyfriend is singing this for you! You gotta dance!" One of the Stevie-ites grabs your hand and tries to pull you up to dance.

"Oh, I cant-" you start, feeling a little embarassed. Ridiculous really, seeing as you were in front of two entire high schools nearly every week dancing and cartwheeling and splitting. Why the fuck was dancing in front of Eddie making you shy?!

You catch Eddie's eye as you're dragged onto the small dance area in front of the stage, the woman lets go of your hand to do her own Stevie style twirl, and you laugh, doing the same when she encourages you to do so. You glance up at Eddie and he grins back at you, still singing away as he pulls you up onto the small stage, twirling you around. You stay next to him, wrapped in his arms as the band finishes the song. When the last note plays, Eddie grabs you and you kisses you hard on the lips and you wrap your arms around his neck, the small crowd whooping and cat calling as you break apart, both of you panting and grinning like fools.

"You're amazing," Eddie says breathlessly, looking into your eyes.

"Me?! I'm not the one who just turned Stevie Nicks into a bad ass metal anthem! You gotta record that, you...you're incredible!" You pant, your face starting to hurt with how much you're smiling. You run one finger down his chest whilst looking up at him through your lashes. "How much longer is the set, rock star?"

Eddie swallows hard.

"Uh, th-three songs."

"Perfect, I'll be waiting by your van when you've packed up." You shoot him a sexy smirk, pecking his lips once more and hopping off the stage to watch the rest of the set.

*

True to your words you were waiting, leant up against the side of Eddie's van as he finished loading up his equipment.

"So, I've been thinking, that bed you've got in there?" You gesture to the back of the van. "Super fucking comfortable, perfect for laying down after a successful show, don't you think?"

"While every fibre of my being is going to hate me for saying this, Y/N-"

"Who said anything about sex?" You cut him off and he looks at you, confusion etched on his face. "Just wanna show you how appreciative I am that you learned a song for me, very cute by the way."

"Well, I have been known to be pretty cute," Eddie grins, letting you pull him into the back of the van, kicking the door shut. He grunts, letting out a breathless laugh as you push him onto his back and straddle him, pushing his shirt up his stomach. "Hey, you know you don't have to do anything you don't want to, right?"

"What about if I want to?" You smile, rocking your hips experimentally against him. Eddie groans, fingers biting into your hips. You lean down and kiss him, tongue immediately finding his. Eddie's hands travel from your hips to your ass, squeezing it softly at first, then harder as your kisses grows deeper and more desperate. You pull away from the kiss, sitting back on your heels and your hands hover over his belt buckle. "Can I?"

"Yeah, yes, shit, you can do anything you want to me right now, sweetheart." Eddie groans as you undo his belt, your hand ghosting over the bulge in his jeans. Once his jeans are also undone, he helps you by lifting his hips so you can pull his jeans and boxers down to his mid thigh. You can't help the gasp that leaves your mouth as his cock springs free, slapping his lower stomach.

"Holy...what the fuck, Eddie?!" You laugh, unable to process what you're seeing. He's big. And not just big, but thick too. Uncut, with a delicious thick vein running along the underside of his cock. His balls are - is it weird to say perfect?- big and round and your mouth salivates at the sight. Would you even be able to wrap your hand around him? Swallow him down? Would your cunt stretch enough to accommodate him? Your brain buzzed with arousal.

"Not really something I go around showing off," Eddie chuckles, hissing as you attempt to wrap your hand around him, slowly stroking him. You pull back his foreskin to expose the head of his cock, the same beautiful shade of reddy purple as his lips, and you watch in fascination as a small bead of precum blurts out and over your fingers. "Shit, Y/N, your hand feels so fucking good."

"I haven't even done anything yet," you giggle, moving a tiny bit faster, your other hand gently cupping his balls. You make sure he's looking at you before you let a glob of spit fall from your mouth onto the head of his cock, using it to lube his shaft for your hand to glide easier along it. Eddie fucking whimpers, whimpers, at that, his head dropping back onto the pillow beneath him.

"Fuck, babe, you're fucking...you're a dream."

"A wet one, I hope?"

"You're...everything. God the amount of times I've thought about this, about you...Jesus, how are you fucking real?" Eddie sighs as you work your hand over his cock faster, the mix of your spit and his precum making it easier. "Can I...fuck, can you take your shirt off? And...and put my jacket on?"

He prayed silently that you'd agree, it was all he'd been able to think about for about 3 weeks. You smile, nodding, taking off your shirt. Eddie almost blows his load there and then. Not only were you braless, but you also had your fucking nipples pierced, the two silver bars winking at him in the dim lights streaming in from the car park. You send him a knowing smirk briefly letting go of his cock to grab his previously discarded jacket and slip your arms into it, the leather cool and somewhat a little sticky against your damp skin.

"How do I look?" Your voice is low and sultry, laced with arousal. The throb between your legs is almost unbearable now, and you grind your crotch against his leg for some relief.

"Like every wet dream I've had since I was 13," Eddie groans as you spit on his cock again. "Shit, never thought you'd be so..."

"So what?" You challenge with a smirk, one eyebrow cocked as you continue to jerk him off.

"Jesus, so fucking...filthy." Eddie gasps as you run your other thumb over the slit of his cock, gathering some precum on the digit and sucking it into your mouth. You exaggerate a moan, this was purely for him right now but he did taste really fucking good. "Shit, gonna cum soon, don't stop baby."

"Not going to Eds, want you to make a mess all over me." You push the jacket off of your tits so he can clearly see them. Your free hand pinches one of your nipples, making you moan and grind down onto him again, a whimper leaving your mouth.

"Jesus fuck!" Eddie grunts, his cock twitching in your hand as he cums, streaking your tits, stomach and a little bit of his own jacket with thick white ropes. You stroke him through it, letting go of his thick cock when he starts to hiss in discomfort. "Fuck, princess, easy, easy," he lets a breathless laugh as you scoop up some of his cum off your tits with your finger, popping it into your mouth and sucking it off. "Jesus H Christ."

"I prefer Y/N." You grin, letting out a squeal as Eddie pins you down onto the floor of the van, kissing you hard. His hand wanders to the button of your shorts. "Hey, don't worry about me, handsome. This was all for you."

"You sure? I want to." Eddie's eyes flick to yours and you smile.

"I know, and believe me I really want you to but I have to get home, school night and all that." You sigh and Eddie groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "My fingers will just have to do tonight."

Eddie groans even louder.

"Shit, Y/N, that isn't fair."

"Relax, Eds, my parents are away this weekend, so I'll have that big, empty house all to myself. You wanna come over and protect poor little old me?" You put on a fake pout. Eddie smirks.

"And by protect you mean-"

"Fuck my brains out until I can't fucking walk and make me scream so loud the neighbours will know your name? Yeah, that's what I meant." You giggle, pecking his lips softly.

"Oh, I'll be there baby, I'll protect you so hard, don't you worry."

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[msgexymunson]

Please, Say My Name

Virgin!Eddie x Experienced!Fem!Reader

Description: Eddie's obsessed with his older neighbour. When a black out happens, he feels the need to check on her, and finds out his obsession may not be one sided.

A/N: I may or may not be projecting here, 30s reader and all. This was a challenge for me, writing from Eddie's POV (I've never experienced a male orgasm, I'm just guessing haha,) I love a cocky Eddie but cannon I think Eddie is a virgin, so I feel this is the partner he had to make him like he is in all these fan fics lol (maybe why he has so many pet names for girls?) Excuse my British ass for any American idioms that are wrong. Also I feel like reader's slightly southern?

Warnings: sexual tension, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader in her 30s, reference to curves not size, all manner of pet names (sweetheart to reader, all sorts to Eddie, tiger, champ, hot shot, sugar, honey lmao) NSFW, Minors DNI, I will feed you to the wolves, M! Masturbation, voyeurism, perv! Eddie, M! Oral receiving, nipple play, F! Fingering, protected sex (wrap it boys and gals)

5.2k words

Masterlist

Jesus H. Christ she's gonna kill me.

Tiny shorts riding up your ass, sporting a bikini top and bare feet. Bending down, he watches you reaching into the laundry basket. Shorts so tight he can nearly see the outline of your cunt. Standing upright, tits threatening to spill out of your top, the shape of your nipples peeking through the fabric. Stretching up, hanging clothes on the line. Bending again.

Eddie's been staring out the window of his trailer, spying through the makeshift curtains into your yard for the past twenty minutes, utterly transfixed by you, fisting his cock lazily. A bead of pre cum dribbles from the tip of his dick down to his fingers. It mingles with the spit already in his palm. He knows he shouldn't but he can't help it, your more mature frame burned into his eyelids. It has been for a while now.

He knows you're in your thirties, at least ten years older than him, but he can't help it. Every movement you make is sensual. He watches your hips rock every time you move to hang your clothes.

When you moved in a couple of months ago, Eddie was laying smoking pot in his room when Wayne had knocked on his door.

"Boy, a new neighbour's moving in next door. You best offer to help her."

Knowing his uncle meant business whenever he called him 'boy', he wandered over to offer his help, and was faced with you. You were wearing some skin tight leggings and a crop top, curves on full display, wrestling with a TV, trying to manoeuvre it into your trailer.

"Hey, need a hand?"

You had jumped at the sudden offer, turned round and saw this sweet looking, messy haired young boy staring at you.

"Well thanks champ, real kind of you." You smiled at him, placing the TV on the floor. He had eyeballed you from top to toe smirking, then grabbed the TV and lifted it like it was nothing.

"In the living room, tiger," you had said at his back, watching his shoulder muscles.

Placing the tv with a small thud, he held his palm out to you.

"I'm Eddie, Eddie Munson."

You placed your manicured hand in his and shook it.

"Well I'm y/n y/l/n, pleasure to meet you sugar." Your voice all honey and cinnamon, you winked at him. Eddie's throat almost shrivelled up at that wink, mouth suddenly dry.

Eddie had moved most of your furniture that day. Not because you were unable, but because he had insisted. You were perfectly happy to allow him, watching that slender frame start to sweat, straining to move some of the heavier items. He was certainly good to look at. Eddie stole glances at you all day, mesmerised by the way you move.

Since then, Eddie had helped you a few times. Needed something from the store? Eddie would jump at the chance. TV aerial playing up again? Eddie was around in a heartbeat fixing it for you. Shitty car broken down? Eddie's sprinting over, offering you a ride.

When he found out you were working as a waitress at the nearby diner he'd make any excuse to visit. He would sit there, attempting to write notes on his next D&D campaign, drinking coffee he didn't enjoy as he thought you wouldn't take him seriously if he bought a milkshake. You would laugh at his little jokes, touch him on his arm, and call him all manner of pet names. He was smitten.

Now, you were a waitress. You flirted with everyone. Hell, your living is mostly based off of tips, Eddie understood that. But it felt like something extra when you flirted with him. Sometimes your hand would linger a little longer on his. He's sure he's never seen you winking at anyone else. When you reached over to refill his cup once and practically paraded your cleavage in front of his face Eddie thought he would spontaneously combust.

As you finish hanging up the washing, you take a moment to stretch your arms, then walk inside. Eddie's shoulders visibly deflate, wanting to finish what he had started.

After a minute you return with something in your hand, making your way over to your lawn chair. You slip your shorts off exposing your skimpy bikini bottoms and Eddie groans loudly, picking up the pace of his languid strokes. Running your fingers under the tie sides you pulled them further up your hips, the material gathering slightly at your ass. Eddie is sweating, watching your every move, tightening his grip on his cock.

Laying down, you open your palm; it was sun lotion that you had carried from inside. When you shake some out of the bottle and proceed to rub it casually onto the tops of your breasts Eddie chokes on a cry, fucking his fist faster, spraying his cum all over his hand.

He knows he shouldn't have, and he knows he should clean himself up and snap out of it, but you're still rubbing lotion in your skin, manicured hands stroking all over your body, he's utterly enthralled, and he's already getting hard again. Fuck.

****************************

A couple of weeks later Eddie's getting ready for a blind date that Gareth twisted his arm into attending. He truly hates set ups, but he made a promise and that's that. Fussing with his hair, he slings on a burgundy button down shirt, paired with his usual black jeans and combat boots. Deciding to do without his jacket since it's been hot as hell these last few weeks, he stuffs his cigarettes into his pocket and makes his way outside.

Hearing a wolf whistle he turns around, confused. You're sitting in your lawn chair, smoking a cigarette, enjoying the balmy air, wearing nothing but sleep shorts and a tank top.

"Well hey handsome, where you off to?" You call over. Eddie steps closer, drawn to you, hands in his back pockets.

"Just some blind date, nothin' special." He shrugs.

"A date huh? Well come here, let me take a proper look at you."

Eddie swallows and hesitantly steps forward.

"Turn around." He's obeying before he even knows what's happening, turning on the spot, arms open.

"Hmmm," you say, standing up directly in front of him, impossibly close. Eddie can smell your musky, sweet perfume, and is desperately trying to control the blush that he knows is begging to crawl over his cheeks.

You reach out with your painted fingernails and touch his chest. Eddie's sure his heart stops beating for a second. Staring at his chest, you pop open one of his shirt buttons, and then another, exposing his guitar pick necklace. Eddie's stopped breathing, mouth hanging open. The bulge in his jeans is starting to become noticeable.

You look up and smile.

"There, that's better." You pat his chest, hand lingering for a moment.

"B-better?" Eddie stammers out.

"Yeah, a real stud." You lean towards him, tilting your head upwards to whisper in his ear. "I mean, I would."

Eddie can feel his blood rushing all the way to the roots of his hair. He's speechless.

You turn away from him, putting your cigarette out. Walking towards your trailer you call over your shoulder. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Flabbergasted, Eddie can only stare at you, eyes never leaving your back until your door closes.

****************************

Well, that was a complete waste of my time.

Eddie's pissed. He had waited for over an hour but his date never showed. Driving back to the trailer park in his van, metal blasting from the speakers despite the late hour, he pulled up outside his home. Wayne's car was gone, he must have left for work already.

Storming into the trailer, he was angry, not just at the date but at himself. What if she did turn up, took one look at him and left? He really didn't need some mystery girl making him feel inadequate, he did that well enough himself.

Sighing, he threw his van keys haphazardly on the table and turned on the light switch. Nothing happened. He tried again. Then he tried the TV. Nothing.

"Well, shit." He said to the darkness.

Stepping back out the front door he looked around the trailer park. Pitch black. In his anger he hadn't even noticed. His eyes were inexplicably pulled to your trailer. He thought he could see a dim flickering light through the blinds.

He could knock. A concerned neighbour, just checking in on her because of the black out.

I wonder if she's still wearing those little shorts.

He took a deep breath and strode over, climbing the steps to your front door. Fuck, what do I say?

Too late, his hand was already rapping on the door. Silence for a moment.

"Who is it?" Your voice rang out.

"It's Eddie, just checking on you" when the fuck did my voice get so squeaky, Jesus.

He heard the sound of security chains clanking and the latch clicking softly. Then there you were in your tiny pyjamas, bathed in candlelight, your hair loose around your shoulders. Eddie thought you looked like you had wandered in from a story, a dream.

"Well hey you. You're back early. How'd the date go?" You tilted your head at him, eyes shining.

"It er, didn't. She blew me off."

"Well, she don't know what's she's missing. Wanna come in?" You gesture to the old chintz couch that he had helped you move in months before. A coffee table he doesn't recognise sits in front of it with three fat lit candles. Eddie nods eagerly and moves inside whilst you lock the door again.

You move over to an old wooden sideboard, a further collection of candles sitting there, and pour yourself a bourbon.

"You want one?"

"Yeah sure."

You pour another, grabbing some ice from the ice box and put a couple of cubes in each glass. You go to hand one to him. When he reaches out to grab it you pull it back suddenly.

"Hang on a minute big guy, how old are you?" You screw your eyebrows, examining his face.

"I turn 21 in like 3 weeks!" Eddie protested.

"Ah, another way to say your 20. Hmmm. Well you're lucky I already poured it, hot shot. Here you go. One drink mind. Don't wanna get you into trouble." You giggle, face slightly flushed. Eddie definitely believes this isn't your first drink of evening.

Sitting on the couch you cross your legs, shorts riding high up your thigh. You look into Eddie's eyes, smiling at him from the corner of your mouth.

"So, came to check on lil old me?"

"Well yeah, wanted to make sure you were ok."

"You're always checking on me ain't ya sugar. Always." You reach over and squeeze his knee.

Eddie nearly chokes taking a sip of the bourbon but tries to disguise it as a cough. The touch of your hand on his leg is all consuming.

"Well, yeah, I mean you're on your own over here. I just wanted to make sure you're safe."

"Well ain't you a slice of cutie pie." You stand up, "I'm just gonna powder my nose honey." Walking off you make your way to the bathroom, hips swaying.

Eddie takes the opportunity to look around the room, perusing the photos on the walls as best he can in the dim light. A framed picture over the sideboard stops him in his tracks. He stares at it in disbelief.

You return, taking your drink off the side board and having a sip.

"You- do you know Deep Purple??" Eddie exclaims, pointing at the photo.

"Ha, yeah a little. I mean, I knew a lot of bands back in the day. Only groupie to end up with a roadie I swear." You chuckle to yourself, making your way to the couch.

Groupie??

"Oh, I didn't know you were seeing anyone." Eddie shrinks down, perching on the edge of the couch.

"Not any more. Why do you think I ended up here? Half my stuff is still with that moron. I swear I have better taste in furniture than this junk" You shrug, tipping back your drink.

"Oh. I'm sorry sweetheart." Eddie moves on instinct, reaching out to stroke your hand in comfort.

"You don't have a single thing to be sorry for kid, don't worry about it."

Eddie feels a sudden spark of bravery. He's never gotten you to open up before about your own life.

"You know, I'm in a band." He sips his drink, trying not to cough.

"Oh really, I'm not surprised. You look like a musician." Running your hand up and down his thigh. Fuck, is she for real? Eddie can't help trembling slightly. "too nice to be one though."

"Hey, I can be a gentleman and a guitarist. Why not?" Eddie puffs out his chest and daringly reaches to touch you on the cheek. You grab his hand before it can even make contact.

"Look, you're a nice boy. I'm not gonna lie, you're hot as sin, but I'm not sure I wanna be the one to mess with that 'knight in shining armor' shit you've got going on, okay champ?" You pull his hand from your face, but you don't let go. Slender fingers tracing patterns on his rings.

She thinks you're hot as sin.

"Do you think I'm too young for you?" Eddie's voice quavers, but he's dragging your hands to his mouth, settling kisses to your fingers, lapping at the tips of your manicured fingers with his tongue.

"Fuck," distracted for a moment, "I never said that, I just, don't think I should be the one to mess with you first is all."

Eddie's cheeks burn red.

"Is it that obvious?" He looks down, releasing your hands, unable to meet your gaze. Humiliation weighs on his chest.

"Oh honey, don't feel bad, I read people for a living." You smile softly at him.

"Maybe I," Eddie begins, brown doe eyes seeking yours, "maybe I want you to be first. I mean, I might not know what I'm doing," Eddie half hides behind his hair at that, "but I want to. Maybe you could, teach me, you know?"

You laugh, the throaty sound reverberating through the trailer.

"Oh darlin', you don't know what you're asking."

"Oh I think I do. And I think you want it too. I've seen you looking at me." Cockiness edges his voice, sounding braver than he felt.

You scoot nearer to him, closing the gap between you, hot bodies making contact. Your knee rests on his leg, hand stroking up the exposed skin on his chest. Heat pours from the both of you. The heady scent of your perfume invades Eddie's senses, making it difficult to focus when you are so near. He can feel his cock stiffening.

"Oh, and you think I don't notice you too? Your eyes on me whenever I bend over? Eyeballin' my tits when I'm tryin' to do my job?" 

Eddie's breath is unsteady, shaking, heaving at his chest. Your touch is setting him ablaze. The heat in the trailer is stifling.

"Well, I'm sorry but," he takes a deep breath, trying to will his usual confidence to kick in. "You're so fucking hot, I don't know what to do with myself." He turns his head towards you, eyeing your lips in the flickering candlelight.

"Flattery will get you everywhere." You smirk at him.

Go on, grow a pair, kiss her.

Eddie sneaks his hand to the back of your head warily, eyes darting to your mouth. You make no move to stop him, gazing at him with half lidded eyes. Gulping, he closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your full lips. You grab his shirt in your fist and pull him closer. Eddie takes that as the best sign he can get right now, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss. You taste of bourbon, cigarettes and something sweet he can't place. His tongue pushes into you almost greedily, mapping out every inch of your mouth. It's sloppy and eager, but passionate. You run your hand up Eddie's lap, inching towards his crotch. Eddie thinks this must be some sort of fever dream as you palm him through his jeans, it takes everything he has not to cum on the spot.

Allowing his hand to drop from cradling your head, it drifts downward, cupping your breast. When his rough fingers brush your nipple over your thin top you break the kiss to allow a moan to escape your mouth.

Eddie mouths at your neck, leaving a succession of wet kisses. Clambering into his lap you straddle him and push him off your neck and back into the couch.

"You are making it real hard to say no honey." You smile from your new seat, fingers flirting down Eddie's chest.

Its Eddie's turn to grin at you smugly. He runs his palms firmly up your thighs.

"Sweetheart, you never said no."

"Well, you may have a point there sugar." And you lift your tank top over your head, revealing your bare chest.

"Holy Shit." Eddie's now convinced, this can't possibly be real. There's no way this goddess of a woman is straddling him topless right now. He knows he's blushing but he doesn't care. He's not even sure he can move right now. Far too scared to speak in case it comes out in a high pitched squeak and then you'll never show them to him again.

"Honey, you can touch them. Jesus have you never seen a pair of tits before?" You giggle, then your eyes widen. "Shit, you haven't have you?"

Eddie just barely manages to tear his eyes away and look you in the face.

"I mean, girls aren't exactly lining up at the door for Eddie 'The Freak' Munson." He scoffs.

You lean forward, slowly unbuttoning the remainder of his shirt.

"Aw, poor baby." Flipping open his shirt you rake your nails down his chest, giving him goose bumps. Eddie's breath catches in his throat.

"You just need someone to take care of you, don't cha?" Grinding into his lap.

Eddie's eyes roll back, his whole body feeling like a raw, exposed nerve. Electricity bolting through him with every roll of your hips.

You bring his hands up to your nipples, encouraging him. Eddie's fingertips brush them softly, feeling them harden to his ministrations. Your reaction to his touch emboldens him; leaning forward he presses soft lips to your breast. Once, twice, three times, and then he takes your nipple into his mouth and sucks gently.

"Oh fuck, Eddie."

You'd never said his name before yet you purr it now. That breathy, impassioned sound sends a shiver throughout his body. If he could just hear one thing for the rest of his life, from now until eternity, it would be you saying his name. He wants to see if he can make you scream it.

He whips his tongue around your nipple, trying to find what makes you make the loudest noises, gripping onto your hips tightly. You rock in his lap, moaning in encouragement.

Climbing off his lap, you settle between his legs on your knees. Eddie's fit to burst, watching you rake those painted nails of yours up the inside of his thighs.

"You still want this sugar?" Fingertips creeping to Eddie's belt, biting your lip.

"Hell yeah!" Lightning fast he pops his belt undone, along with the button and zip on his jeans, and pulls them down unceremoniously along with his boxers. His member springs out, thwapping against his stomach.

"Well big guy, if the girls knew about this they'd be lining up 'round the block." Your smile looks dipped in wickedness.

"R-really?" Eddie stammers, shuddering as you take his length into your palm, strokes firm but painfully slow.

"Hmmm" bending down you take the tip into your mouth, stroking with the flat of your tongue.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Eddie scrunched his eyes shut, "sweetheart, please."

"What's wrong honey?" You lick up and down his length, fisting his cock covered in your spit.

"If you, fuck, if you carry on I'm gonna cum."

You look at him with a mischievous glint in your eye, and take his cock fully into your throat, hollowing your cheeks. Eddie physically convulses, groaning loudly. He can't possibly look at you, if he does he won't be able to hold it in.

Letting go with a lewd wet dribble, you stand up, and go to remove your shorts. Eddie's hands shoot out to stop you. Looking at him with the question in your mind, he flashes you a toothy grin.

"Let me." Dark lustful eyes fixed on your waistband. You allow him the pleasure. He runs his fingers along your shorts, inching them down slowly, kissing the uncovered skin. The shorts stick slightly between your legs, causing Eddie to have to peel them down. He cannot help but see how wet they are. He can smell you. It's faint but musky, and sweet, almost like your perfume. He's obsessed. His hand hovers near your heat, looking up for confirmation.

Collecting his fingers in yours, you pull two to your mouth and suck them, gathering saliva. Eddie watches you, mouth open, enraptured. You guide his fingers down, down, to the front of your folds. When his fingers graze your swollen nub you sigh audibly.

"That there honey, you feel that? That's my clit." Eddie nods emphatically, not exactly in a position to form words right now. He runs sloppy circles over it, slipping with the mix of slick and spit, watching your face with wide open eyes, watching how you throw your head back a little, how your mouth parts slightly, how you tremble. He presses down and you cry out, knees buckling.

"Fuck, Eddie!" You grab his shoulders, "why don't you lie back so I can take care of you?"

Brows furrowing, Eddie says "Can- can I try and, er, take care of you? I mean, I'm 'bout to explode and I really want to make you feel good." Eddie begs with his eyes. If he can make you come undone beneath him he can die a happy man.

"Sure baby. Always wanna take care of me huh?" You lie back on the sofa, opening your legs to him.

"Holy Shit." Eddie scrambles over to you, forgetting he still has his pants round his ankles and nearly falls. You giggle at his antics. Untangling himself, he throws his shirt off that's still hanging on him unbuttoned.

Eager fingers make their way back to your pussy, rubbing on your clit, eliciting a little moan from you.

"Do you wanna stick your fingers in me honey?"

Yes, Eddie would like that very much.

Eddie's fingers are guided to your entrance. You wrap your hand around his middle and ring fingers, and line them up. Eddie understands, probing at you hesitantly at first, rubbing, gathering your wetness on his fingers, then pushes them all the way in. He's rewarded with a low whine from you, back arching off the couch.

He pumps his fingers in and out of you, sitting up on his knees, watching your face, how your tits move, and his fingers disappearing inside your cunt.

Eddie is determined to see you cum on his fingers. He needs to see you unravel. What if he never gets this opportunity again? He needs to commit to memory every sigh, every twitch, every time you say his name. God, especially the times you say his name.

He's trying different things, how he moves, the speed of it, feeling your impossibly tight wet pussy around him when all of a sudden he curls his fingers up and...

Oh.

Your reaction is visceral and immediate. Eddie keeps curling his fingers up. His hand is cramping; it hurts but he doesn't give a shit. Not when Aphrodite incarnate is laying below him, bathed in candlelight, moaning in ecstasy.

"Oh Eddie, oh my God, just like that, fuck."

You're writhing beneath him, moaning, your glistening body shining in the dim light. Eddie speeds up his motions, biting his lip. He's never been so hard in all his life. Suddenly you're clenching so hard around his fingers he can barely move, bucking against his hand.

'Oh Eddie!"

That fractured, high pitched scream of his name is the best thing he's ever heard. Back arched, your hands flying to his arm to still his movements, face in shock.

Breathlessly you manage to say "I thought you'd never done this before?"

Eddie's grin is smug and mischievous. "You think I would lie about that?"

He removes his fingers from inside of you, pleased as can be when you whine and frown a little at the loss.

"Do you have a condom sugar?"

Eddie looks wildly around the room, eyes settling on his discarded clothes. Finding his wallet he pulls one out with a flourish and a flash of teeth.

"You always walk around with that?" You smile at him.

"What can I say, I live in hope!" You giggle and Eddie thinks it's the second best thing he's heard from your mouth.

Now, I think I know how to do this...

The worry must be evident in his face as you hold your hand out and Eddie puts the condom in it with relief. You rip the wrapper with your teeth and roll the condom down his length, spitting in your hand and stroking him a few times. Eddie looks anywhere else he can, he can't possibly look at you handling his dick. He doesn't want this to be over yet.

You lie back and Eddie moves on top of you. Holding his length you line him up and he starts pushing into you devastatingly deep.

"Jesus, baby, you're so big."

Eddie can't think of those words slipping from your beautiful lips. All he can think of is the tight, impossible warmth he's sinking into. Your cunt is squeezing him like a vice, like  nothing he's ever felt before.

"Darlin, look at me." Eddie's eyes are scrunched up, holding himself up by his outstretched arms. He opens his eyes.

"Fuck you're beautiful." He strokes the side of your face, moving a couple of loose hairs that had stuck to you.

"You're very sweet. You can move now honey."

"Say my name." He stares into your eyes, pupils blown black with lust.

You look slightly taken quick by the dominance but recover quickly, flashing him an easy smile, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Please fuck me Eddie."

I've gone insane. How else could this be happening? I've lost my mind, made it up.

He'd believe that if he couldn't feel how amazing it felt being sheathed inside of you. He pulled slowly out, feeling the drag of your walls around his cock, then pushed back in.

Jesus Christ.

Eddie's a little unsure, trying to set a pace, trying to judge it on the noises you make, but he knows he's absolutely not going to last. The feelings too intense, rocking into you, watching that gorgeous face looked so fucked beneath him, it's everything he's wanted and more.

Shifting a bit, he gets up on his knees and pulls your legs around his waist, holding your knees, and thrusts into you.

"Oh Eddie, yes!" Your eyes are rolling back, closing, a continuous stream of moans escaping your mouth.

This is better. This is deeper. Eddie can feel everything, from the tips of his fingers to the tip of his cock to the tips of his toes. He thrusts harder, deeper, pulling you bodily into him, fingers pressing hard into your flesh. He can feel you clenching around his length and fucks into you with everything he has, sweat dripping down his back. His orgasm goes off like a gunshot, pumping his seed into the condom. You tighten even further, cumming with a mantra, a prayer, a plea of his name, over and over and over.

Eddie falls into you, feeling the sweaty sheen of his skin and yours intermingling, the heave of your breasts against his chest. You pant in unison, coming down.

Just about managing to lift his head, he looks at you and smiles, you look right back, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers with his. Eddie can't help it. He chuckles, the laughter coming from deep in his chest, shaking his body. You giggle back, post orgasm haze sprinkled over the whole room.

Eddie plants a kiss to your soft lips.

"Was that, erm, okay?" Eddie knows he sounds like a kid in this moment, but he had to know. He has to hear it from you.

"Eddie, you're a fuckin' natural." You smile, planting a kiss on the tip of his nose.

He grins wolfishly at that. Peeling your flesh from his in the sticky heat he sits up and pulls the condom off. You gesture to a waste paper basket and he chucks the rubber in there.

Eddie leans back on you, arms encasing your head, nose to nose.

"Good enough to do again?" His grin is arrogant but his eyes are sincere.

"You're a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?"

"Sweetheart, you never said no."

You laugh loudly at that, pulling him in for a slow kiss. Bodies pressed against each other in the flickering light, heat of sex and summer radiating off the pair of you, utterly lost in the moment.

****************************

The heat wave showed no sign of stopping, though thankfully the blackout only lasted until morning. Eddie had snuck back next door in the early hours, unable to wipe the grin off his face.

It was early afternoon, and Eddie was standing outside, having a smoke and trying to catch a hint of breeze.

Uncle Wayne had stepped outside too, sparking a cigarette.

"What you smiling about son?" Wayne looks out the corner of his eye at Eddie.

"Nothin' Sir, just happy."

You exit your trailer, fanning yourself in the heat, ready for your shift. You look over and see your neighbours.

Waving at them, you walk closer.

Eyes on Wayne, you wave, "hey sugar how you doin'?"

"I'm good miss, workin' hard."

"Well, don't you work too hard honey." You smile, swaying your hips. 

Looking over at Eddie, he flashes you the cheekiest look, smile crinkling his eyes. You flush in response.

"Hey Eddie."

"Hey."

An uncontrollable smirk is on your face as you open your car, looking bashful for once.

Wayne looks at Eddie's face, then at your blushing cheeks, and back to Eddie.

"What?" Eddie shrugs his shoulders at his uncle, unable to control the beaming smile that's plastered on his face.

Wayne shakes his head. He sees your car drive off and goes to walk past Eddie back to the trailer, putting his cigarette out on the ground.

At the last minute, Wayne holds his hand up, palm flat, fingers splayed. Eddie gives his uncle a high five. Wayne continues to shake his head, walking back inside. 

[ddejavvu]

i would run to you - enemies to lovers with aaron hotchner <33

come celebrate 5.7k with me!

I would run to you - send me a trope and a character, and i’ll write about what it would be like! (ex. enemies to lovers with eddie munson)

--

He slams the door of his office behind him, but it doesn't scare you. You're already whirling around, turning on him to stalk towards him angrily, "Hotch, what the fuck was that?"

"That was me doing my job, Y/L/N." He snaps, rage alight in his eyes, "Keeping you from getting fired?"

"Your job is to lead our team." You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. His face tightens, his frown deepening and his brows pinching together above his dark eyes.

"Yes, Y/L/N, that's a fantastic observation you've managed to conjure up there. What kind of a team do you think we'd be without one of our members?"

"I wasn't going to get fired. If anything, he should get fired for-"

"I am aware that his methods of witness interrogation are less-than-suitable. I am already reporting him, it is being taken care of. I do not need you running in and ruining things. I know you're a fan of ignoring my orders, but if you want to keep this job, you need to listen to me."

"They're not going to fire me over-"

"I will fire you over this!" Hotch shouts, cutting you off. His tone, more frustrated than you'd ever heard it, strikes fear, genuine fear into your chest and your breath catches.

"I cannot have you disturbing the peace." He seems unaware of your current panic, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, "Play nice, and I will take care of things."

Instead of an answer from you, he receives silence. He's ready to shout some more, get up in your face until you realize that this is important, that this is not another casual order of his that you can disobey. But when he looks up the rage in his eyes softens, melted by the fear in yours.

"Y/L/N," He murmurs cautiously, "Hey, I- I'm sorry for shouting."

You still don't answer him, your breathing shaky as you stare tearfully up at him.

"Y/N," He tries again, his voice softening even further, "I'm sorry. I was upset, and I lost control, and I'm- stop!"

He's sure that the command doesn't relieve any of your anxiety, but when you bolt for the door, he has to come after you. He catches your wrist before you can slip outside, your hand falling off of the handle as he tugs you back into the room. You're already trying to squirm out of his grip, clearly panicking far more than he'd presumed, and he wrestles you into a chair, kneeling before it so that you can't get up.

"Slow down," He urges, taking your hand in his and squeezing yours. You squeeze back, and it gives you something sturdy to hold onto, something safe.

"Take your time." At the unshed tears in your eyes, Aaron decides that he's never going to raise his voice at you again. Not that he meant to in the first place, but now he'd rather take a bullet unprotected than trigger another anxiety attack.

You listen to his advice but avoid his eyes, your own flitting around the cramped office as you work on steadying your breathing. When you finally gather the nerve to glance at him again he's staring up at you with concern, his eyes practically diving into your soul.

"Are you okay?" He asks, and he's not sure to what extent he means, but you nod, and that's enough.

"I want you to go back to the hotel." He starts, but feels your hand tense in his own, "Not because I'm angry. You need to rest." He insists, "Take a nap, order some food, watch a movie, take a bath, I don't know. Do something to calm yourself down, to help you relax, and we can try again tomorrow. I will file that report while you're gone," He promises, his eyes carefully tracking your movements, "Just take a day off."

He's almost certain you'll refuse, not usually one for following directions, especially if they came from him. But you nod shakily, standing as soon as he does and gives you the space to. You try snaking your hand out of his own but he tugs you closer with it, "I'm going to drive you."

"It's okay." You mumble, and the tear in your voice weighs heavy on his heart, "I can drive."

"I don't want you to." He pushes, "I want to make sure you get there safe."

"Hotch, please, it's okay-"

"Y/N." He repeats his usage of your first name, quite enjoying the way it bled off of his tongue, "Please let me do this. I'm sorry for scaring you, this is the least I can do to fix things."

"Things are fixed, it's," You shake your head, waving him off, "It's all good."

"It's not." He concludes drearily, "But I will make sure that it is in the end. Now, where's your stuff?"

"Reid has it." You recall wearily, "I can get it-"

"It's okay." He soothes you once more, squeezing your hand, "We'll go together."

It feels strange to be paraded around by your Unit Chief, but Reid doesn't dwell on it, hanging your bag over to you with a concerned expression. You're sure he's picked up on the break in your demeanor, and you make a mental note to call him later and fill him in. All you can manage now is a sweet smile, the sight of his own nearly melting your worries away.

But then Hotch's hand tightens momentarily around yours, and they're back. You let him lead you to one of your vans, clambering in and settling against the back of the seat with a sigh. He shuts his door gently behind him, glancing worriedly over at your defeated form.

"Y/N, really, I'm so sorry-"

"Please don't apologize again." You mutter, and he has to stop talking to hear your quiet voice.

"What?"

"Don't make yourself the problem," You continue, a hand thrown over your eyes so that you don't have to watch him react, "You're not the problem. Someone else was. You just sounded like them for a second."

You don't have to see him to know that he's frowning at the new information. He always is. But you feel a hand on your thigh, low enough that it's not uncomfortable, but firm nonetheless.

"I'm sorry you had to go through something like that." He chooses his apology carefully, "And I'm sorry that this happened to remind you of that. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," You nod lazily, "I'll be fine. Thanks for taking me back, Hotch."

"Of course." He murmurs, but he hates that you're thanking him for it. He's being a decent person, and you're acting like it's a gift.

"Hotch..?" You pipe up halfway through the ride, "Did you.. did you mean what you said in there?"

He's already struggling to come up with an adequate reason for threatening to fire you, one other than the truth; frustration. But you continue, "That the team wouldn't be the same without me?"

"I meant that completely." He speaks quietly, glancing over at you quickly, "You're very valuable to m- us."

You don't seem to catch his slip-up, and he's glad. All you do is relax slightly into your seat, your shoulders no longer tense, and the sight relieves some of the guilt that's crushing his chest.

"Thanks, Hotch." Is all you can manage, but he's not sure what you're thanking him for.

He hopes the compliment, because again, he's not doing anything spectacular for you right now, but he squeezes your thigh, his touch warm and comforting, "You're welcome, Y/N."

[peachywise]

Lessons in Honesty

steve harrington x reader

chapter 1

– other chapters: part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5 ⋆ part 6 ⋆ part 7 ⋆ part 8 

– synopsis: Being Robin Buckley’s younger sibling had always been uneventful, up until she got herself tangled with Steve Harrington. And really, you were happy for her. She deserved friends. What was bothersome was when he got let in on small secrets like your infatuation with Eddie Munson, and decided to take it into his own hands to try and get him to pay attention to you-- by pretending to be your boyfriend. 

– notes: it has been a long time since i have written fan fiction but here i am!! my dumbass loves a fake-dating plot and i couldn’t resist. i hope to update this pretty regularly, and i post here and under the same username on ao3. i think i’m going to continue to post this as a reader insert and then do an alternative version that’s with an oc (because i can and reader insert series mess with my brain) BUT here’s to hoping y’all enjoy it!!  read here or on ao3  _____________________________

“Stop staring, dweeb.”

The voice cut through a fraction of your brain fog. Not enough to draw your attention away from your current pin-pointed focus, but certainly enough that some semblance of normal thought would have eventually trickled back in. You know, had it not been for the second later when an arm cut across your vision and someone flicked you on the forehead. Patience was never your sister’s virtue.

Still, it did shock you enough out of the stupid little reverie you had fallen into that had been going on for a good five minutes. It was probably better she busted the daydream before someone else caught you and thought you were someone’s lobotomy patient left without supervision.

“Christ, Robin!” You huffed, slapping away her hand as she gave you an indignant look. It was distraction enough that you managed to flick her right back on the forehead right after. Maturity was never your virtue.

“That was a lot harder than I did it,” she argued back, already trying to thwack you once again.

It quickly became a sitting wrestling match as you tried to capture each other’s arms, biting low insults at one another as it went along. You finally managed to yank Robin’s arm down and back to her side, head twisting fast to see if anyone was watching the scuffle. Thankfully not. There was already so much commotion between the football idiots trying to knock soda cans off one another’s heads by throwing a spiral. They probably weren’t even trying to hit the can anymore with how much harder they laughed when the ball slammed into someone’s face instead. I mean— It was kinda funny.

“I sat beside you, and you didn’t even notice me. Do you think that if you stare long enough, it will intimidate Eddie’s clothes into falling off his body?”

The instinctual hand that slapped over her mouth at that moment might have been loud enough to draw some attention if it wasn’t so perfectly timed with the loud smack that came from the football hitting someone in the face again. Divine intervention at its finest. 

“You don’t have to say every thought that pops into your head,” you whispered harshly, eyes still nervously darting around just to double-check no one had heard. Your only solace was that you hadn’t decided to sit at a closer table to Eddie, who was far out of earshot halfway across the quad.

“Tell me about it,” offered a new voice from directly behind you. Shock and surprise rolled through your body as if electrocuted, eyes widening as a familiar figure sat opposite you at the picnic table. “The other day, she was complaining about how annoying it is that your mom tells embarrassing stories about you both to company, but then lets it slip in the same sentence that she wet the bed until she was nine.” Robin must have kicked Steve’s shin under the table because he let out an even more dramatic “Ow!” than you thought him capable of.

“What, did they realize they made a mistake in letting you graduate and rescind your diploma?” You asked him, probably a bit more snippy of a greeting than usual, given that you were still red-faced and deflated from Robin’s mental attack.

Robin gave a short snort at how Steve reared his head back an inch, his floppy hair moving with him like its own appendage. “Ignore them. They’re just mad Eddie Munson doesn’t know they exist.”

You always thought choking on water was something only people on television did when they were shocked. Turns out, It was very much an honest reaction and one you could do simply with your own spit. “I hope you trip over your own feet and the doctors have to wire your jaw shut,” you breathed out, covering your heating face with your hands as you tossed your head back, wishing you were anyway else. And by anywhere, you meant that in the truest sense there was. Let the footballers whisk you away and use your face as target practice instead.

“Munson? You like Eddie’ The Freak’ Munson?” Steve sputtered back. You were thankful that he didn’t just laugh in your face instead, like when Robin found out. You still felt the phantom feeling of her spit flying on your face when she did. Then again, maybe laughter wasn’t the worst reaction. When you removed your hands from your face and saw the genuine look of astonishment and confusion cross his features, brows furrowed, head slightly cocked to the side and studying you as if you were the freak, you began to wonder if you’d prefer the slice of a chuckle and not the hammer of a disappointed and alienating stare. “So you’ll joke about me never graduating— which I did, they can’t just take that back— but find that a desirable trait in Eddie? You do realize he was held back for two years.” As if his own words finally hit his ears, he screwed his face up like he smelled something bad. “Jesus, dude is like twenty years old.”

“I never said it was logical, okay?” you huffed back, folding your arms over your chest, then unfolding them, feeling too restless and itchy at the scrutinization your sister and her idiot friend were putting you through. “I know it’s not going to happen—known that since I was a freshman and joined the Hellfire Club. You can both let it go now.”

You’re a Junior now, and Eddie still treats you the same as if you were a wandering lost puppy he pitied and took in. You kind of were back as a freshman. No friends, not really anyone to talk to other than Robin, wandering around aimlessly in the hallways like the least scary ghost there was, given how many people tried to walk through you. You’d prefer outward avoidance to that. Still, things were different now. Maybe your only friends were members of the Hellfire Club, but at least you’d ranked up from lost puppy to social pariah but with a decent backbone. Eddie, however, clearly didn’t see it that way. His nickname of pipsqueak stuck and has followed you since. Sometimes, he shortens it to Pip, which would be fine if half the student population didn’t think that actually was your name. Some didn’t even believe you when you corrected them.

Robin raised her hands up in surrender, which was bullshit if you’ve ever seen it. “Whatever. Look, I’ve got band practice, so you have to walk home by yourself. Tell Mom to remember to leave the leftovers in the fridge this time, okay? I don’t want to accidentally eat a fly like last time because she left my plate out.” She said that with so much ease as she stood up and walked away, acting as if she hadn’t behaved like someone sprinkled rat poison on her tongue when it happened. It was pretty gross, to be fair. Just thinking about it made you mentally gag and reach for a toothbrush.

“I’ll be fine,” you called out, the same time Steve let out a disgusted mangled noise that sounded halfway between a dog trying to get a stuck piece of kibble out of its throat and a baby trying to say their first words. You stood up from the bench and swung your backpack over one shoulder.

Steve’s voice cut off your movement when you began to walk away. “Hey, let me drive you home. Your sister made me come all the way here to drop off her trumpet she left in my car. I’m already acting like a glorified errand boy today.”

You gave a short, breathy laugh, eyebrow raised. “Just today?” You asked teasingly. That got you an eye roll. “I’m good. Robin just acts like this town is more dangerous than it is. I assure you, a walk by myself will not kill me.” She’s had a tendency to hover lately. And by association, so did Steve, though you just assumed it’s because you were hanging out with Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Max lately, and he had that weird sort of older brother/fifth-wheel type relationship with them. You also assumed it had something to do with Nancy. A lot of what Steve did had to do with Nancy.

“Are all you Buckley’s this painfully stubborn? Just get in the damn car,” he fought back with as much patience as your sister had. Which, as stated earlier, is none at all.

“Steve, it’s fine.“ At this point, you were arguing back merely on some screwed-up principle. You might have gotten farther with it had Steve not stalked next to you and yanked your backpack from your shoulder, already walking off towards the parking lot with conceited expectations that you would fall in line and trail behind him.

You did. He had your bag.

At least you managed to snag one last glance at Eddie as you walked past.

“Has anyone ever told you that your bossy?” You muttered under your breath as you stopped at the familiar burgundy brown BMW that your sister had begun to use as her personal taxi. He tossed your bag into the back once he slipped into the driver’s seat, leaning over the center console to push open the passenger door you waited by.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have bad taste in men?” He supplied back, putting the key in the ignition when you slammed the door shut.

“Don’t start,” you said, staring at him heavily annoyed as he pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m not even as bad as you. Everyone sees the way you pine after Nancy.”

His head snapped so fast to look at you that you quickly smacked his arm to remind him to keep his eyes on the road. “Everyone does not— I don’t *pine* after Nancy, okay? I get it. She’s with Jonathan. We’re friends.”

“Friends who want to—”

“Don’t start.”

Alright. Fair.

Still, it was hard to believe the whole friend’s thing, not only because of the looks Steve gave Nancy, but the ones you saw her give him behind his back. Jonathan wasn’t here. He was in California. And whether or not Nancy just gave Steve lingering looks that were remnants of the past, there were moments you wondered if that was just it. Robin surely didn’t. She was pro-Steve and Nancy all the way. You were shocked she hadn’t already made embarrassing T-shirts about it.

“Don’t let Robin pollute your thoughts,” Steve broke the silence, a more quiet seriousness passing over his concentrated face. “She thinks there’s still something there, but there isn’t. Probably because all these dates I’ve been on lately have all gone to shit. I think Nancy even stares at me with pity about it too.” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he ran his other in a frustrated motion over his jaw. “It’s annoying. I wish everyone would get off my back about the whole thing.”

“Well, why not just tell them you’re seeing someone? Not like it has to be anyone in Hawkins. Dustin’s got that long-distance girlfriend of his.” It was easy enough to lie about that sort of thing, right?

Steve gave an unamused snort. “Yeah, like Robin will just let that one slide. She’ll see right through it.”

“Then just ask someone to pretend to be your girlfriend for a while. I’m sure plenty of people are lining up just to have a shot with the late, great Steve Harrington, even if it isn’t real,” you joked, though it was true. You’d never really talked to him before he became friends with Robin, but you remembered him from the hallways last year. Heard his name bounce around girl’s lips too often to ignore it.

“Thanks for that,” he muttered in return, hand gripping his steering wheel tightly as he went quiet once more. You shrugged, turning your attention to the window as you watched your neighbourhood come into view. Playgrounds, bright red fire hydrants, trees with tire swings hanging off thick branches. Yeah. Truly a terrifying small town if you ever saw one.

“But maybe you’re on to something.”

Of course, you were on to something. You may be hopeless sometimes, but you were actually pretty clever—

“Why don’t you date me?”

It was a good thing you weren’t the one driving. You would have crashed the car. He would have deserved it.

“You can just drop me off here,” you replied, reaching for the handle, thinking the best option in this scenario was to tuck and roll out of the car. Steve grabbed your wrist before you could. Damn.

“I don’t mean for real, smart ass. But think about it. It would solve my problem, and maybe even yours too.”

You turned back to look at him with a face that read, ‘maybe they should have taken away your diploma, after all.’ “And what problem do you see me facing?”

“Eddie. Eddie’s your problem. You want him to notice you, right? Jerk off’s never been my fan, and it probably annoys the shit out of him that I hang around Henderson and the other idiots. Add you to that equation, mixed in with a guy’s stupid need to have something they can’t have, and he’ll want to be dating you in no time.”

Huh.

“It’s surprising you were never a mathlete in school with logic like that.”

“Can you be serious for a second?” Steve pleaded back at you, turning into your driveway as he did. Even though you were home, you didn’t think getting out of this car was going to be any easier at that moment than it was any earlier.

“I am being serious!” You replied back, a small laugh escaping you at the absolute absurdity. You wouldn’t be shocked if this was just some elaborate prank set up by Robin to pay you back for ruining her favourite sweater a week ago. It was a bit overkill, but you had to appreciate the effort. “You’re the one not being serious. No one would even believe it anyway.”

Steve gave an oddly offended look. “And why wouldn’t anyone believe it? What, you’d never stoop so low?” Jesus, here he was, putting words in your mouth already.

“No,” you said bluntly. “I mean you would never stoop so low. What, the holy ex-basketball player dating his best friend’s little sibling who spends most of their days drawing alone or playing Dungeons and Dragons? Doesn’t exactly scream your type.”

He opened his mouth to argue back, judging by the narrowed look of his brows but decided to drop whatever it was. He deflated with a sigh into his seat, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I-“ he paused again. “That’s not true, alright? Can you just think about it?”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, studying him and trying to understand why he was being so pushy with it. You could see how his predicament was bothersome. You’ve been on the receiving end of Robin’s persistent nagging countless times. But there was probably more to it than that if you were to bet. If Steve was so willing to sell himself out to try and make Eddie jealous, chances are he was hoping that using you would do the same for Nancy. He could deny it all he wanted, but there was still a hang-up there.

“Fine.” You relented, Steve’s hand immediately dropping from his face as he sat up perfectly straight like an obedient child just being told they could have one treat. You held up your hand to tamper it down. “Fine, I’ll think about it. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Turning back around to grab your backpack, you opened your door and slipped out of the car. Steve leaned over the seat and reached for the handle. You thought he would shut it and just be done with it, but he surprised you by saying, “don’t take too long. You don’t have to play hard to get with me,” with an infuriating smirk.

And then he shut the door in your face.

[theunburntsblog]

༆Rock out༄ ||E.M||

Gn! Masculine-alligned Reader, No pronouns used,, fix-it type !

---

||Summary: Eddie has graduated from Hawkin high, he focuses more on his music. Him and his band 'Corroded Coffin' has their first big show. You and Eddie have been best- friends for a few years now, bonding over music, doing all dumb shit together. Will this progress into something more? Or will damage be done. ||

---

-backstage-

"Ready to rock on, Jackass? " You smiled brightly at him, as to wish him good luck for what's to come.

"You bet it, L/N" He grins in response before lifting you up and spinning you around backstage. You grumble into laughter

"What's the matter, Y/N, Scared you'll lose?" He sings out jokingly grinning at you, You roll your eyes hitting him a bit harsh in the rib , making him groan out "OW! OKAY OKAY ITS ON!"

"Like you'll win!" As both of you fool around and fake wrestle, limbs flying around in the air as you struggle out of his grip.

Knowing he would never harm you in any form, you wrap your legs around his waist trusting him to support your weight as you both spin. You reach up flinging your arms around. Eventually you both grow tired as Eddie settles you down, laughter dying out as deep breaths take over the backstage room .

"You know, Munson I'm fucking proud of you, show the world your talent." You shove his chest playfully.

"Aw, L/N are you getting all soft on me?" He places a hand over his heart pretending to fall dramatically and you chuckle "oh you're full of shit!" Eventually it was close to time, Gareth was calling him over.

Quickly, He waves his arms around you like a magician and goes "and for my next trick!... I run away!" Before walking off to his bandmates.

You giggle at his failed humor and leave backstage going to over within the crowd, sitting down in your preferred seat.

---

On Stage

The stage lights dims, The equipment is on stage, The band appears. People are cheering them on, screaming their names As you cheer with the crowd, giggling like mad in excitement.

3,,, 2,,, 1

Eddie reaches his arm up pointing upwards before he strokes his guitar strings in a fast motion. The band begins to play an original song. The Crowd grows wild, cheering them on and especially making comments of Eddie the cheers of fangirls "STOMP ON ME!",, "MY NUMBER IS 44-", as well as girls sitting on their boyfriends shoulders screaming "IM SINGLE FOR YOU!",, not to mention the fanboys saying "FOR LEGAL REASONS I'M NOT GAY"

Eddie seems to smirk at all the attention raising his eyebrow at all of the fans screaming for him, he seems to soak up the attention.

You frown, jealously pouring within your gut making you heated. But you wanna support your friend so you brush it all off even though you're very close to snapping.

The song gets more intense as fans cheer and Headbang their hair all in sync with eachother. Cheering the band on as fans continue to compliment and praise the life out of Eddie.

You try to enjoy yourself and the music as Eddie licks his bottom lip down at his fans just to mess with them. Then he walks over jamming out, going over to a very attractive person, reaching over and holding their hand, caressing their skin. You scoff at that, folding your arms over your chest flexing your muscles through your shirt, titling your head to the side.

Eddie walks backwards, headbanging as his hands fiddle with the chords, playing beautifully as the song ends.

---

One song left !

After a few original songs, you grew more and more bitter about how Eddie was interacting with his fans. Yet, you reasoned that it's stage presence and it's performative.

Eddie's eyes search for you within the crowd, when his eyes meet yours and he winks as the outro song starts and it's the intro to your favorite song: 'Rock Me Amadeus'. Your eyes light up immediately smile as Eddie continues to look at you, flipping his hair back and forth with his bandmates.

You giggle at his antics, rocking out with the crowd before realizing the bitterness in your heart was because you loved him. You LOVE Eddie fucking ' freak' Munson and it shows.

You smile brighter as the song fades into your ears, you cheer him on "SHOW EM WHOSE BOSS!" Dancing to the beat, poorly swaying your hips lightly just having fun and Eddie catches on, staring you down giggling to himself at your poor dancing.

Eventually the song ends and the fans cheer louder. The stags dims once more as the Eddie flips the crowd off as an ending motion and the crowd cheers louder.

You ran out of the crowd to backstage where the band is heading, seeing Eddie you tackle him to the ground, giving him a bear hug. "Man, you did not!" Eddie grumbles in pain before adjusting himself "Man, I did." He smiles up at you before flicking your forehead.

You giggle at the impact playfully saying "ow Man, that hurts". Eddie rolls you both over stands up. Then helps you back up off the ground "I'm guessing you liked the show" he did finger gun movements.

You roll your eyes, blowing some of your hair out of your face well tried blowing the strands/coils out of the way until Ed's just helps you move it. "That better for you, sweetheart?" You punch his chest gently "as if I needed your help, unlike you I can graduate high-school without retaking senior year" Eddie gasps dramatically "oh that's fucked up, don't be like that!"

You look at him and his band before pulling him away to talk to him privately. "Hey, eds? Can we talk and not fuck around for a moment?" Eddie raises an eyebrow looking at you, his eyes filled with curiosity and worry "what's up, Y/N?"

You look down, gaining the courage "I know this is like so stupid and I know you don't even swing that way I just- I don't know. I think I'm in love with you. I was just so.. so bitter over your fans it's so stupid I just, forget it"

Eddie starts grinning like the menace he is "so you drag me over to make out with me, cause I don't really mind that part, listen I don't know if you're forgetting the whole bandana thing or how I played our song we love.. but I gotta admit L/N. You're fucking mind-blowing, now kiss me."

Your jaw just drops, eyes all wide, eyebrows perched together. Your whole face just saying 'are you being legit.. like you want me to?' Ed's urges you on, pulling your waist to his indicating he really wants this just as much as you do.

You take a step, getting closer to his face brushing your nose against his. Before Eddie just gets all impatient so he kisses you deeply.

You quickly match the movements of his, putting your fingers into his curls. As the kiss turns more passionate and full of love until you both have to break off for air. "I guess that settles it, my place? Horror movies? Pizza?" Munson smirks at you as you reply "I think I would like that."

Honorable mention because they helped me with this one ! @thegirlwhohides

[madaboutmunson]

The Eddie Munson Tape Dates Metallica 'Ride The Lighting'

Warnings: fluff, swearing, romance, implied sexual interaction, drug use, heatwave, love

The heat had been relentless all day. Even the fan in your room had given up and was just pushing around warm air at this point.

You'd rolled up your rug and lay star-fished on the exposed wooden floor, in your shorts and vest, staring at the ceiling. Patiently waiting for the heat oblivion to come to an end.

You hear the front door slam shut, "Y/N? Mama? Pops? Anyone?" You hear Eddie call out breathlessly.

"I'm upstairs, babe!" You yell out, refusing to move from the one cooler spot in the house you'd located.

His normal thundering run up the stairs was replaced by the pace of an average person, totally sluggish for Munson's speed.

A few seconds of carpeted silence and a small thud against your door as it opens. Eddie's forehead is still pressed against it, "It's so fucking hot ou-" he starts to say but is interrupted by looking at you on the floor.

A weak grin creeps across his perspiration-coated face, his hair being its most curvy, sticking to it in places, "Babe, this is the most lacklustre invite that has ever been thrown at me, but I'll take it... in a second.. don't move."

Eddie sheds his clothes to his vest and shorts as he lumbers his way to the shower and walks in for a few seconds. Then, his clothes and self completely soaked through, he runs back into the room and pounces. He finishes in a straddle of your waist, his hands on the floor on either side of your head, as the cold shower water falls from him onto your body.

"Jesus Christ! Eddie!" You start in an annoyed tone, but soon the cold water is appreciated. His mischievous face makes you laugh, "Alright, alright, that has actually improved the heat situation."

"Oh yeah? What about this then?" He says, moving his hands to your shoulders to keep you in place as he shakes his head rapidly from side to side, water flying everywhere. The shake moves down his body until he's just sitting shimmying on you, laughing impishly.

"Ok, right, that's enough! I hear you. I'm moving," You say, wrestling your way back to sitting up.

He wraps his arms around you, and they are already almost dry. You flop your head onto his chest, mumbling and fake sobbing, "This weather sucks. When is it Winter again?"

"I dunno, it has some perks," he says, playing with the waistband of your shorts, "These are, very...very short", he sighs.

"I honestly can't believe you're thinking about anything like that when we are basically in the centre of Mount Doom right now," you say, creating some space.

He puts his hand to the side of his mouth, whispering, "Ok, this is top secret information, but I'm pretty much always thinking about that".

He leans back a little removing his vest, "And Mount Doom? A Rings reference? My influence is very clearly infectious."

Your eyes trail slowly over his exposed torso, "Like what you see, huh?" He says quietly, looking down into your eyes.

You swallow slowly and say quickly, "Well, yes, but it's also way too warm for all of that."

"Not everywhere." He says with a smirk, pulling you up with him and heading back to the shower with you.

--–--------------------------------------------------------------------

Later in the evening, whilst pouring over some poetry for class, "What rhymes with soubrette?" Eddie says, tapping his pencil against the back of his hand, deep in thought.

"What on earth are you writing about?" You look over at him, confused, "What's a souprette? A little soup?"

Eddie stops tapping his pencil and looks at you with pity, "You really need to read more, honey. It's really wonderful, not just the stories but the language too."

"Hey! I did do a bunch of reading. I read your books about Hobbits." You reply quickly. "I even used the school projector to create huge versions of the maps for you."

Eddie smiles proudly at you, "That you did, sure I'll give you that...But, how much of that reading was actually done by your own eyes and not your ears."

You mischievously avoid his eyes, "Like 50%?" You try

Eddie lets out a loud guffaw and then mimics you, "Oh Eddie, I like it when you do the voices. I can't hear them the same in my head...I like it when you act out the battle scenes...My eyes are so tired from ogling you all day, Eddie. Could you read it for me?... Gym today was a real workout. I don't even think I could lift the book to read it."

You laugh heartily at his impersonation, "Ok, ok, maybe like 25%, but none of those were lies. It was all true!!" He shakes his head at you in mock disapproval, "Besides, it makes you so happy!! And I live for that, Edward! That's why I was put on this God-forsaken planet", you say theatrically.

His smile widens at your antics, "I am quite the showman after all", he bows.

You grab for your dictionary, "Soubrette, a pert or flirtatious young woman" you roll your eyes at him, "Cassette rhymes with Soubrette."

He shoots a set of finger guns at you, "Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner", and he grabs the box of tapes from under the bed.

"But it's not date night?" You look at him in confusion.

He looks at you in disbelief and says sarcastically, "Well, I guess I'll just put them back then, shall I? I didn't realise it was the law of the land, geez!"

"Ooooh, alright," you say, teasing him, and reach for a tape. You go to grab one, and he shakes the box, so you can't catch it. You look up at him and eye him curiously.

You try again, and the same thing happens.

He moves the box until Metallica's Ride the Lightning is under your fingertips. You look up at him again, his eyes are wide, and he's nodding towards the blue tape.

You narrow your eyes at him and quickly grab the tape next to it, laughing as you do. He drops the box grinning at you, "You little minx!!"

You can see from his posture and facial expressions he's about 10 seconds from launching into a tickle attack.

You quickly pick up Ride the Lightning, holding it up at him, just in time for his face to meet the plastic case with a little bump.

"I've picked it!!" You say getting ready to run for it in case the album selection doesn't satisfy.

He nods at you, "That's much better. Wait there."

He enters your closet, grabbing a tote bag and throwing in some clothes.

"Ready? Let's go!" He says, marching you out of the room, downstairs and towards the front door.

"Orf out are 'ye?" your Dad asks from his armchair.

"Yeah, not sure where yet, though," you say, putting your sneakers on.

"Oh, is this one of the tape dates," your Mom says excitedly, running over to Eddie.

"Yeah", he beams at her, "How did you know about them?"

"Moonbeam here told us all about them after the rowboat one. So you planned all 13 of them yourself?" she says, putting her arm around his shoulders.

"Yeah," he says a little bashfully. You are sure you see a hint of him blushing from under his hair.

"Your mekin' us all look bad, ya know, lad?" Your dad jokes.

"Ignore him. May I?" Mama says, holding her hand out for the cassette.

Eddie willingly hands it over, ensuring she can see the track listings. Then, he waits, swaying backwards and forwards on his heels in anticipation.

Mama scans the tape, "Ok, so I can rule out these, right?" Eddie nods with a cute dimpled smile plastered on his face.

"So on a day like today....this one, right?" She taps on the case.

You try to sneak a peek at where she is tapping, but she pulls it away from you so you can't see.

"That one exactly!" Eddie says in triumph.

"Is it..." She starts out loud and then whispers something to Eddie behind her hand.

"No, it's..." He replies in the same way, hiding his whispers behind his hand.

Your Mom looks at her watch, "Now?!"

Eddie smiles and puts one hand behind his back, the other imitating someone putting a cigarette to their lips, "I know a guy", he says.

They both start giggling, and your Mom grabs him in a big hug, "That's gonna be just perfect! You are such a thoughtful young man!" She leans out of the hug, "You hear that, Tom?? Thoughtful!"

Eddie's posture straightens up. He looks delighted to have won this badge of approval from your Mom. Even though he's not trying to do that, he's just himself.

You know Eddie's Uncle absolutely adored Eddie and did everything he could to give him the best of everything. But there was just something about him that really resonated with your Mom. You weren't sure exactly what that thing was, but Eddie loved having an extra adult around being proud of him.

It was also nice for him to have someone as openly loving as your Mom around. She hugged him when he arrived, when he left and for many other trivial reasons, just like she did with you.

You Dad mainly stuck to hello and goodbye hugs for Eddie. In-between, he gave him the odd hair ruffle or playful nudge.

Eddie calling your Mom and Dad, Mama and Pops, had started out as a joke. He liked to shout after them in unison with you and occasionally use those terms when saying thanks to them. No one ever corrected him, so it just stuck.

"Come on," he says, reaching for your hand, "before we miss him."

While Eddie drives, you get in the van, listening to the tape and reading through the track listing.

"On a day like today..." You repeat your Mom's words and scan the cassette sleeve.

You get distracted by the music playing, it sounds like a piece of classical music, and you are about to comment on it when the Metallica you are used to hearing rip through the speakers. Eddie assumes his usual singing, steering wheel drumming and nodding. Only allowing for actually head banging when at a stop light.

You glance back at the album. Creeping Death, now that was indeed how today had felt before Eddie had turned up, but it's probably not that one.

"Trapped Under Ice?" You say, looking over at him.

He smiles as you pull into a parking lot, "Ah, my little detective strikes again!".

You look out into the evening and see an arena of sorts.

He grabs his black lunchbox and jogs round to your side of the van to assist you out of it.

As you open the door and the night air hits you. It's still a warm wall of unbearable heat, unnecessary for this time of night, with no breeze to help move it along.

Eddie weaves his fingers in-between yours as he locks up the van and starts walking you over to one of the fire exits of the building.

He taps an intricate beat on the door, and a bushy-bearded face answers, "Eddie! My man. I wasn't expecting delivery until tomorrow."

"I know, right?" Eddie says, leaning in the door frame, "I just thought maybe I could get this to you earlier and call in that little favour we spoke about a few weeks ago. I can always throw you in something extra..." Eddie lets that hang in the air.

"Are you kidding me? I'm a man of my word, dude, and you know what, tonight is perfect. The boss is on holiday" the guy beams at Eddie and spies Eddie's other hand holding yours. He looks further around the door and follows your arm to your face. Finally, he nods and simply says, "Nice!"

You wave with your free hand and receive a big smile and salute in return from the guy at the door.

Eddie hands him a paper bag with some other plastic bags in it, and you are allowed inside.

"You remember where everything is, right, dude?" The guy calls after you both.

"Indeed I do, my man!" Eddie calls back, grinning widely and moving faster down the corridor.

"Eddie, where are we?" You look around, expecting some kind of snowcone stand or something, only to be walked through a tunnel into a seated arena with an Ice Rink in the centre.

You audibly gasp, "Wow", is all you can manage.

Eddie looks at your face and rubs his hands together, giggling excitedly to himself before grabbing your hand again, leading you back the way you came to a locker room.

"Grab yourself a pair, Babe" he gestures broadly at the lockers and a trolley full of skates.

You search through the lockers and eventually find a pair in your size, as does Eddie. Then, you both go out to the team box at the side of the ice rink and switch over from sneakers to skates, and Eddie gives you the bag with the warmer clothes in to layer up if you want to before taking to the ice.

"Have you skated before?" He asks, helping you onto the ice.

"Well..." You say, skating away from him quickly, into a bit of spin on the ice, "a little", you wink at him.

"Oh... you're an ice skater too. So full of surprises," he says with his hands on his hips, "Now you're gonna have to show me how to do that little spin thing", he says, zooming over to you.

The coolness of the rink is so very welcome right now. Your Mom was right. This was perfect.

Eddie can skate well enough to keep balance and catch you up just fine. Still, what he's mastered in speed, he is seriously lacking in his stopping ability. So you grab the back of his jacket just in time to spin him in the other direction, so he doesn't plant into the wall.

You take a bit of time, showing him some techniques for slowing down, and once he's mastered those to the point at which he can stop relatively safely, you show him how to spin.

There are a great many bumps and curses, but he is a quick study and, after a while, manages to spin around on his skates.

"Yes!!!" He celebrates aggressively before skating back over to you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you gently, "Best teacher ever." He smiles and squeezes you.

You hear the tannoy squeak into life with a bit of feedback and the intro to Foreigner's 'I Want to Know What Love Is.'

Eddie looks up at the box higher up the rink and rolls his eyes, "I'm sorry. I did not ask for this," he says, grimacing and cringing a little.

You look up in the same direction and see Eddie's friend swaying gently on his own in the box, lip-syncing to the song, smoke billowing around him. You smile and wave up at him.

You grab Eddie's hand, "Come on, it's not so bad." and skate with him around the rink a few times, like you are at the roller disco in the artic.

The song ends, and Eddie breathes a sigh of relief, but then it immediately starts up again. Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

You let go of his hands, skate into a space, and do your best power ballad lip sync with the odd bit of backward skating and a few spins for his entertainment.

He can't hold back a smile. As you power slide towards him on your knees, your fist clenched and eyes tight, mouthing the words to the song.

"I guess it's not so bad!" He laughs, helping you back up and grabs you in his arms as the song replays again. This time Eddie just shakes his head and tightens his arms around you in some kind of awkward ice slow dance.

You look up at the box. Eddie's friend is still swaying happily but is crying.

"Should we go help him?" You ask.

Eddie looks over his shoulder up at him, "Nope, no way."

"Is he sad?"

"You need to understand that Bob saw An Officer and a Gentleman eight times at the cinema. He's a romance junkie," Eddie laughs.

"Ah, is that why you're such good friends?" You say, gesturing around at the ice rink.

"Look, I'm just great at dates, alright. Nothing to do with being romantic."

The song loops around again, "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??!!" Eddie yells but then immediately starts laughing again when he sees you are already doubled over laughing at his little outburst

"Look, I think there is a way out of this, but I need some answers first," you say, assuming back into middle school slow dance positions.

"Ok, sure. Whatever ends this ear massacre," he pleads.

"So Bob here, asked you if your remembered where everything was, so you've been here before?"

"Yes, very astute of you", he agrees.

"Why have you been here before? Were you an ice hockey player or something?" You ask curiously

Eddie chuckles, "No, honey. It was an after-hours visit like this one."

You stop dancing for a minute, "But you said you hadn't been on a date since 1979. Is that not true?"

He tilts his head at you adorably, "Of course that's true. Why would I lie about something like that?"

Your brows knit together in confusion.

He tuts, "Ok, this is top secret, right? If you must know, someone at hellfire liked figure skating, but they got mercilessly bullied by some assholes at school about it. So I arranged a little hellfire club outing because of my connection here."

"Eddie, that's so kind of you."

"Hmmm, just the felt right to do." He looks out at the ice and back to you, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, "They looked so great on the ice, you know like they were just a nuclear explosion of joy. It was awesome to watch."

You lean into him, with your side of your face against his chest, lowering your arms, so they are around his waist, and squeeze him tightly.

You'd like to try to convey to Eddie what a perfect specimen of human being he was. How his kindness might have changed that kid's life forever. You could just cry, holding a perfect angel in your arms, feeling like the luckiest person in the entire universe.

Instead, you move away from him a little, skate backwards with him into the middle of the rink and say, "Let's give Bob what he wants."

You place your hands gently around Eddie's face and look into his eyes. Your heart is pounding ferociously, even though you must have kissed him a thousand times before.

"For the theatrics," you say, smiling, grabbing his waist again, dipping him to the side, and kissing him.

You lift him gently back up and kiss him again. He rolls his eyes at you but can't hide his toothy grin and huge dimples, "Yeah, theatrics...sure.."

You hear some audible sobs over the speaker. You both look up at the box, "Ok, you kids gotta get out of here. Go live your lives. Drive into the sunset. Shoot for the moon. Dance like no one is watching..."

Eddie looks at you and then his watch, "Shit, we should get back before I lose my golden boy status with the folks", he says before skating off the ice with you.

[heelbucks]

wrestling fan! eddie munson would love this match

[heelbucks]

this could be me trying to tie my two hyperfixations together but,

eddie munson would absolutely be a wrestling fan and if it was modern, he would NUT for the house of black