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libraryofgage · 1 year

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Librarian Steve :)

Was talking to a friend about people (specifically this one kid that gives such Dustin energy hfjdks) I meet at work (I'm a librarian) and that evolved into this plot bunny so:

Librarian Steve, rock star Eddie, and the 5 times Steve pretends he doesn't know who Eddie is while they flirt + 1 time Steve reveals he knew about Eddie's rock star status the whole time

There is also, definitely, at some point, going to be a second part where the kids keep just barely missing Eddie and refuse to believe Steve is actually dating anyone but especially not Eddie Munson of all people

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

One

Steve stares at the man on the other side of the circulation desk. He's wearing a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, a guitar pick necklace, clunky rings on each finger, and an expression that says he's bracing himself for something painful.

Here's the thing: Steve knows who Eddie Munson is. It's hard to listen to alternative rock or punk or any other genre like that and not know Eddie Munson. It's hard to be a librarian who works primarily with kids in middle school and high school, all going through that painful, angsty phase that they express through music, and not know Eddie Munson.

So, yeah, Steve takes one look at the admittedly (incredibly) attractive guy and immediately knows he's Eddie Munson. Like, of Corroded Coffin fame. Of Rock n Roll Hall of Fame fame. Of platinum-level album sales fame. Of--okay, his point has probably been made.

Anyway, yeah, Steve knows this is Eddie Munson, and while he'd love to say he's a fan and smile at Eddie and maybe ask for an autograph, Steve also grew up as a Small Town Rich Kid. So he knows that look on Eddie's face, the one that says he's bracing himself for someone to start fawning over him and potentially ask for uncomfortable favors or his number or any other request that's definitely crossing the line into invasive.

Steve easily makes the decision to pretend he doesn't recognize Eddie. So, he puts on his customer service smile and says, "Hello, how can I help you?"

The sheer relief in Eddie's eyes is more than enough to tell Steve he made the right choice. "Right, uh, this is my first time here," Eddie says, shifting slightly before placing his hands on the counter and drumming his fingers.

"Oh, congratulations," Steve says, his tone and smile becoming more genuine. "Did you come here to print something?"

Eddie shakes his head, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a library card. "My friend has, like, a...hold? Yeah, a hold on something and asked me to pick it up," he explains.

Steve nods once and takes the card when Eddie offers it. He scans it and watches the computer load for a few seconds before opening an account window for someone named Asher Katz. "Since you aren't the cardholder," Steve says, navigating to the "Additional Information" tab in the account, "I'll need you to tell me the four-digit pin or code word connected to the account."

He clearly wasn't expecting that requirement, and Eddie flounders for a moment. "Is that a requirement?" he asks.

With an apologetic smile, Steve nods. "Yeah," he says, stretching out the word as he tries to think. "Oh, you could also call him and have him tell me the pin. Then I could confirm that it's okay for you to check out materials on his behalf."

"This is a lot of hoops for a book," Eddie says, frowning slightly as he takes out his phone.

"We have to make sure people's materials are secure. Also, we have to keep track of what people check out for the library's stats report at the end of each quarter."

Eddie looks like he understands about half of that, and Steve once again flashes an apologetic smile. After a few taps on the screen, Eddie glances around the library, ensuring it's empty, before putting the phone on speaker. The moment it picks up, and before Asher can speak, Eddie says, "Hey, man, I'm at the library. Can you tell, uh--" Eddie looks up to check Steve's nametag "--Steve what your pin is so I can check that book out."

A few seconds pass before Steve hears a sigh on the other end of the phone. "1234," Asher says.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks.

Steve glances at the account page, confirms the pin, and nods. "Could you also provide me with your code word?"

"Password."

"Dude!" Eddie says, staring at the phone like he's once again being reminded that his friend is a dumbass.

Steve checks the account again and nods once more. "Great, thank you. Could you confirm that...," Steve trails off, looking at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie blinks like he forgot Steve didn't know who he was and hesitates before clearing his throat and quietly saying, "Eddie."

"Thanks," Steve says, flashing another smile before looking at the phone and continuing, "Can you confirm that Eddie here is allowed to check out holds on your behalf?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine, man."

"Great, thank you," Steve says, checking the card number once more before heading to the hold shelf behind the desk. He crouches and starts scanning stickers on the spines for Asher's last name and the last four digits of his number. Behind him, he hears Eddie say goodbye, his voice sounding a little strained for reasons Steve can't really figure out at the moment.

He finds the right book after a few moments and pulls it off the shelf. "Here it is," he says, walking over to the desk and pulling up the check-out window on his computer. He scans the library card once more, carefully pulls the sticker off the spine, and scans the book.

"It's due in two weeks, but if your friend needs more time, he can just give the library a call," Steve explains, passing the book and card back to Eddie with a smile. "Was there anything else I could do for you?"

Eddie just stares at him for a few seconds, his cheeks looking a little pinker than before, and Steve wonders if the building's A/C somehow gave up on life. Again. But he can hear it running so that definitely isn't it. "Uh, nope, that's it," Eddie says, gripping the book tightly in his hands, his rings pressing into the cover. "Thanks, Steve, appreciate it."

"Of course, man. Have a good day," Steve says with a genuine smile and wave as Eddie heads toward the door.

With a slightly awkward wave back, Eddie walks out the door, glancing back over his shoulder once before the door completely shuts. Once the library is empty again, Steve hears the door to the backroom open, and Robin practically slides up to the counter, leaning onto it next to him.

"Was that?" she asks. Steve instantly translates the question in his head: Was that Eddie fucking Munson?

"Yep."

"And did you?"

And did you just pretend you didn't know him?

"Yep."

"Did he?"

Did he catch on?

"Nope."

"Do you think?"

Do you think he'll be back?

Steve shrugs, glancing over at her. "Don't know," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "He's hotter in person."

Robin barks out a laugh. "Maybe you'll actually get to flirt next time," she says, and Steve grins at her, kind of hoping she's right.

Two

Eddie returns exactly two weeks later, and Steve is lucky enough to once again be working a desk shift when he walks through the door. He's wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt this time, and his hair is pulled back into a messy bun with strands escaping to frame his face. He goes up to the counter, focused on Steve and completely ignoring Robin sitting at another computer, and sets the book down. "I wanna return this. And get a library card for myself," he says.

Steve can't help a clearly amused smile as he takes the book and scans it in. "Do you have an ID with you?" he asks, sliding the book along the desk to rest next to Robin.

He ignores the glare she shoots at him before grabbing the book to place it on a reshelving cart for later.

"Yeah, do I need anything else?" Eddie asks.

As Steve shakes his head, he leans over to grab a library card application from a small organizer. He places it in front of Eddie and passes him a pen as well. "Just fill that out," he says, leaning forward on the counter as Eddie picks up the pen.

"So, uh, what can I do with a library card?" Eddie asks, glancing up at Steve briefly before focusing on carefully writing. His letters are blocky but awkward like he's consciously thinking about how he's writing each one.

Maybe he just doesn't want to risk his writing being recognized, too? From what Steve remembers of the signatures he's seen, Eddie's handwriting is fairly distinctive.

"You can borrow up to 75 materials at one time, place items on hold, use the computers, and you get one dollar of printing credit that renews each day," Steve lists, tilting his head slightly as he watches Eddie write.

"That's it?"

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at Eddie when he looks up. "Oh, that's not enough for you?" he asks, unable to help a slight grin, "You can use it at any library within our system, too. So you'll still have options if you get banned from this one."

"Oh? And what would I be banned for?" Eddie asks, his writing pausing long enough to meet Steve's gaze once more and smirk at him.

"I wonder," Steve says, not missing the way Eddie's gaze drops to his lips for less than a second before moving back up.

Holy shit, he's flirting with Eddie Munson.

"I can also help you find books to read based on what you've liked previously," Steve adds, somewhat clumsily pulling back from the flirting. It's only Eddie's second time here, and he doesn't want to let himself get too caught up in...well, Eddie when there's no guarantee he'll be back.

Eddie hums softly as he looks back at the application. "Oh? What would you recommend for me?" he asks.

"What's your favorite book?"

"The Hobbit."

"What did you like about it?"

"The adventure and the characters."

"Do you prefer fantasy? What about sci-fi?"

"Yeah, those are fine."

Steve hums softly, thinking as Eddie sets the pen down and slides the application to him. "Thanks. I also need to see your ID," Steve says, opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a library card. He scans it, a new account window popping up and waiting to be filled out.

"What's the ID for?" Eddie asks.

"To confirm that you live in our service area," Steve explains, taking the ID when Eddie offers it. He glances at the photo briefly, confirming that it is, in fact, Eddie Munson, and then double-checks the address. It matches what Eddie wrote on the application, so he nods and slides the ID back to him.

"That's it?"

Steve nods, beginning to type Eddie's information into the account page. "Yeah, that's it," he says, glancing up and smiling at Eddie, "Anyway, I think you'll enjoy the Murderbot Diaries. It's about a cyborg that hacks its control module, thinks about maybe going on a killing spree, and then discovers TV instead. It then just goes on adventures through space while fighting, like, capitalism and corporations."

"Sounds pretty badass," Eddie says, leaning forward on the counter like he wants to get a peek at the computer. "How long is it?"

"It's mostly novellas, so they're quick reads."

"Got any copies here?"

Steve hums, entering the last of Eddie's information. "I can check," he says, "but first, I need a code word for your account. Like, if you forget your pin or have someone else come pick up a hold, this word will confirm it's you."

Eddie thinks for a few seconds, his gaze dropping to Steve's nametag once more. "Stevie," he says.

Steve's fingers falter, accidentally typing an incomprehensible key smash into the information field. He glances up at Eddie. "...as in Stevie Nix? Don't forget, this has to be something you'll remember," he says, raising an eyebrow.

With a playful grin and a wink, Eddie says, "Well, I think you're pretty unforgettable, Stevie."

A beat passes as Steve stares at Eddie, feeling a rush of heat to his cheeks. He clears his throat and looks back at the computer, hesitating for a second more before typing "Stevie" into the field and saving the account. When he's done, he slides the card to Eddie along with a Sharpie. "That's your card, please sign on the back."

He notices Eddie stiffen at the request, but Steve doesn't comment. As he instead searches the library's catalog, he tries to ignore the sheer panic coming from Eddie as he tries to figure out how to sign the card. Eventually, Eddie picks up the Sharpie and writes his name in the same awkward, blocky writing he used for the application.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention once more, "we don't have any copies of the first book here, but I can put it on hold for you. It should be here in around four days, and you'll get an email when it's available. Does that work?"

Eddie nods as he places the Sharpie down. "Sure, I'm happy to swing by and pick it up," he says, his tone and smile and the playful look in his eyes telling Steve there are more reasons than that for him to come by the library.

And as Steve places the book on hold for Eddie, he can't help a tiny, eager smile.

Three

The D8 sits innocently on the counter in front of Steve, marbled colors of blue and red with streaks of gold to complement the gold-painted numbers. Steve had immediately recognized it as Will's when he was cleaning the meeting room, and he knew the kid was probably losing his mind right now searching for it. He feels kind of bad knowing Will is going to lose all hope of finding it before his next visit to the library.

At the same time, though, he's looking forward to the expression of sheer joy on Will's face when he next comes in and Steve gives it back. Maybe it'll even score him a bonus point with Mike, and he'll be a little less of an asshole. Though, knowing Mike like he does, Steve is sure he'll just get jealous that Steve made Will smile like that instead of himself.

That kid is incredibly skilled at finding new grudges to hold.

"Whatcha got there, Stevie?"

Steve blinks, looking away from the D8 to find Eddie leaning on the counter, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. His hair is loose today, falling over his shoulders, and he's boldly wearing a Hellfire Club shirt, like he's confident that Steve won't recognize any of Corroded Coffin's merch.

Which, sure, Steve is great at pretending by now. Especially after he and Robin made a bet on whether Steve could keep the secret until Eddie asked him out. Steve has incredible faith in himself; Robin says he's too dumb and gay to last that long. So far, after around two months and multiple visits from Eddie, Steve is still going strong.

"A D8," Steve says, holding it between his thumb and forefinger so Eddie can see it clearly. "One of the kids left it behind yesterday."

"They were playing D&D here?" Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he holds his hand out.

Steve drops the dice into his hand, watching as Eddie inspects the gold numbers and hums softly with appreciation. "I host a weekly D&D program," Steve explains. "A group of regular kids plays, and they were getting a little disruptive when they played in the common area--" Steve gestures to the cluster of tables where the kids used to set up "--and the program gives them the meeting room for a whole afternoon."

Eddie looks up at him like he's just said he's a volunteer firefighter on the weekends. It's not an awe and appreciation that Steve really deserves, but he also can't help the slight puff of his chest when it's coming from Eddie. "Do you play, too?" Eddie asks.

"Sort of?" Steve frowns slightly, trying to remember how Dustin and Will explained his role during the campaign to him. "I'm, like, extras. Their DM, Will, wanted his, uh, NPCs? Yeah, NPCs. He wanted the NPCs to feel more real, so he'll give me, like, a little script before each session and then have me voice the NPCs and give me signals to guide my interactions."

"Signals?"

"Yeah, like, if I'm a shop owner and the characters bargain for stuff. He'll give me a signal of when their, like, rolls are effective or when they suck. And if I'm a villain NPC, he'll give me a signal of when to die and give dramatic monologues," Steve explains.

And Eddie grins again, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement and curiosity. "I kinda wanna hear a dramatic monologue," he says, propping his chin in his palm and looking at Steve expectantly.

He's clearly settled in to watch a show, and Steve isn't one to disappoint. Steve does a quick sweep of the library and confirms that it's just as empty as he remembers. Then, he sits up a little straighter in his chair, clears his throat, and tries to remember his whole dying monologue from the most recent session.

When he speaks, it's with a raspy voice, laced with pain and anger at being defeated, "Curse you, adventurers! You may have won the battle, but the war! The war yet rages, and you will be caught in its carnage! Savor this victory now, for it will be your last, and you will fa-"

Steve cuts off, grinning when Eddie blinks and pouts. "Why'd you stop?" he asks.

"Mike's character killed me before I could finish. Said my monologue was boring."

Eddie snorts, raising an eyebrow at that. "It sounds like your monologue was going to reveal info about the BBG."

"Yep. It was, but Will refused to tell them what the rest would've been, and Dustin threw his dice at Mike for killing me."

"He's lucky it was only that," Eddie says, completely serious, "I might've just killed him."

Steve can't help laughing, imagining Max leaping over the table to tackle Mike to the floor. She's done it before, actually, and the only thing that keeps her from attacking again is the knowledge that Steve will ban her from the library for at least a month if she gets violent again.

"He's lucky none of them want to be temporarily banned," Steve says.

"Oh? That's all it takes to get banned?" Eddie asks.

Steve smirks at the teasing lift to Eddie's question. "Yep, so you'd better watch yourself, Munson. I expect you to be on your best behavior," he says.

"I've never been very good at behaving."

"Great, you'll fit right in with the kids."

He looks up to see Eddie's smile growing wider, and Steve suddenly finds himself wondering how it would feel to kiss that smile away.

Four

Something library school never prepared Steve for is how overwhelmed certain days would make him. That's the thing about working with the public: some days are just never-ending, a line of patrons needing something practically wrapping through the stacks, meaning Steve can't turn off his customer service voice and smile.

Usually, he'll just escape to the back, lock himself in the employee bathroom, and take five minutes to cool down. Robin has gotten great at knocking on the door when the five minutes is up, pretending she needs to use the bathroom so the other staff members don't suspect Steve of breathing away a breakdown.

Today, though, Steve can't hide in the bathroom because of the music Robin is playing in the back. It's grating on his ears, scratching against his brain and down his spine like nails on a chalkboard, made all the worse by his interactions with an older patron with a voice that was rough and somehow rounded with sharp edges at the same time.

If Steve asked, Robin would definitely turn off the music, but he also saw her tense shoulders, how on edge she was, and how the music was the only thing helping her calm down. So Steve couldn't. Instead, he just said he was going to shelf-read the non-fiction section.

Because nobody goes into the non-fiction section. At least, nobody goes to the part of the section filled with encyclopedias. It's a safe corner, tucked into the back of the library where few people wander unless they're desperate for an outdated book of information that has no real bearing on their life.

So here Steve is, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes closed. This part of the library is quieter, but he can still hear the general ambiance of the building: people talking in hushed voices, the keyboards clicking as people type, chairs scraping against the floor as people pull them out.

And quiet footsteps coming closer. They're accompanied by the gentle sound of metal bouncing against itself. Steve doesn't open his eyes, but he does know that it's Eddie, and he's not at all surprised that Eddie managed to find him deep in the stacks.

It makes him feel a little warm, actually.

When Eddie reaches him, he doesn't speak. He just sits next to Steve, close enough for Steve to feel his presence without their shoulders touching. And he seems content to stay in silence for as long as needed, but Steve doesn't want silence. He wants to hear Eddie's voice; maybe it will override the discomfort of the music and the patron from earlier.

"Could you talk?" Steve asks, his voice soft and barely audible.

But Eddie hears him and scoots a tiny bit closer, letting their shoulders brush.

"I have opinions about library shelving because of you now. Like, why are science fiction and fantasy shelved together as one category? They're two different genres; they represent different things. One is a reflection of our society and all that it could be, an escape into something new, and the other is a reflection of what our society was through the eyes of a new world. And, like, it's not even the ones you think. They both embody different lessons and values and pairing them together is, like, demeaning to the hallmarks of the genres and what they can do for readers."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like an opinion about library shelving and cataloging. Steve can't help a soft laugh escaping him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. "What started this?" he asks.

"There are Star Trek novels right next to, like, Seven Blades in Black on the shelves, Stevie. It's horrendous. What the fuck?"

Steve smiles a little, gently knocking their elbows together. "Unfortunately, I can't control how our cataloging department works," he says.

"Sounds like a skill issue to me," Eddie says, "Maybe you should just get good."

Steve barks out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand at how loud it sounds. He glares at Eddie, his eyes holding no real heat.

Eddie grins right back and leans in a little closer. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle and brushing against Steve's brain like a cool stream of water on a hot day.

It makes his shoulders relax, something in his stomach uncurling and draining all the tension from his muscles. "Yeah," he replies, "thanks."

"Anytime, Stevie," Eddie says, smiling at Steve like he's capable of hanging stars in the sky, like he'd do a backflip with a broken spine if Steve asked.

And Steve...Steve finds himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and he has no plans to find his way out anytime soon.

Five

Most of the library staff hates reshelving books, but Steve loves it. He doesn't have to use his brain beyond remembering the alphabet, and he can listen to music while he works, easily zoning out so the time passes quickly.

Which is what's happening now. He's probably been shelving for a while, but he's been listening to a Corroded Coffin playlist the entire time, humming along to Hellfire and Chains. His head is bobbing along to the music as he works, and he turns to grab another book off the reshelving cart only to find Eddie standing right behind him.

Steve jumps, his heart leaping into his throat as he chokes on air and Corroded Coffin notes. Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, somewhere between afraid and infatuated, and Steve can't help asking, "What the fuck, man?" in a whispered voice.

"Whatcha listening to, Stevie?" Eddie asks, ignoring Steve's question.

Oh. If he admits to knowing Corroded Coffin's music, then he'll probably be giving up the whole "I know you're famous" thing, and based on Eddie's somewhat terrified look, that's not a great idea right now. But he also can't lie about the music because Eddie's going to recognize his own songs.

"Uh, Corroded Coffin, I think? I heard Lucas playing one of their songs. It sounded catchy and he sent me a playlist he'd made on Spotify," Steve explains.

It's not a lie, technically. That is how he discovered Corroded Coffin, but that was almost two years ago now.

"And, uh, what do you think?" Eddie asks, glancing at the earbuds still playing in Steve's ear.

Steve studies him for a moment before smiling. "They're really good," he says, turning around to continue shelving books. "I like stuff from their second album best so far."

"Do you usually listen to metal and rock?" Eddie asks, glancing at the shelving cart before passing Steve another book.

Steve almost tells Eddie to let him do the shelving, but then he sees that Eddie passed him the correct book for this section, so he bites back the words. Instead, he nods and crouches to slide the book into a bottom shelf. "Yeah. More older stuff, I guess. Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Nine Inch Nails, Queen. That kind of stuff," he says.

"Holy fuck, you're perfect," Eddie says, his voice soft and full of awe and Steve is about to laugh when Eddie adds, "Marry me."

Steve blinks, nearly losing his balance and falling on his ass. He saves himself at the last minute, quickly standing up again so he can look at Eddie. "Seriously?" he asks, wondering if maybe he had just misheard.

He did not. And this is proven by Eddie moving around the shelving cart, grabbing Steve's hand, and getting down on one knee. "Incredibly. Your music taste is fucking immaculate, sweetheart. Also, you're funny, hot, and sweet, and I've recently developed a librarian kink, I think. So. Marry me," Eddie says before using his teeth to pull off one of the chunky rings on his left hand so his right hand doesn't have to let go of Steve.

He then holds the ring up, and Steve really shouldn't find that as hot as he does. Like. Really hot. And he almost considers saying yes. But then he fully processes Eddie's words and almost laughs. "You've developed a librarian kink? So, what, you'll drop me the moment another librarian starts ranting about the Dewey Decimal system?" he asks.

"Okay, fair," Eddie says, nodding once. "Let me rephrase that. I've developed a Librarian Steve Harrington kink. Only you, big boy. Nobody curses out the Dewey Decimal system like you, sweetheart."

That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to Steve, actually. "It's a shitty cataloging system," he says without thinking.

Eddie nods in agreement, still on one knee, still holding up the ring (it's shaped like a coffin, now that Steve spares it more than a quick glance) and still looking up at Steve with an infatuated smile. "It is," he agrees, voice a little softer than before like he's ready to just kneel through Steve's passionate rant about it.

And Steve thinks that might be the final straw for him. "I'd prefer at least one date before marriage," he says, grinning down at Eddie and pulling him back to his feet.

Eddie follows his lead, standing a little too close considering Steve is, technically, still at work. He turns Steve's hand over so it's palm up and drops the ring into it. "Of course, Stevie. How about lunch tomorrow? My treat," he offers.

Of course, Steve says yes.

+ One

"I still think there are funnier ways to tell him," Robin says, crossing her arms and pouting as Steve leans against the counter, his back to the door.

Steve sticks his tongue out at her. "You're just mad you lost the bet," he says. Telling her she lost had made Steve's entire week, especially since it means Robin is finally (finally!) going to dress up with Steve the next time they go to a basketball game together. He's got a jersey and shorts ready for her; he's had them ready since the first game he invited her to. They have her name across the back, are the ugliest shade of mustard yellow he could find, and match his perfectly.

"That jersey is the work of the devil," she says, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of it.

Steve just grins. "You never know, maybe a nice girl will be enraptured by your awkward lesbian swag," he says.

Robin is about to answer when she looks over Steve's shoulder and grins, her eyes lighting up. Steve looks over his shoulder to see Eddie smiling at him. "Hey, Stevie," he says.

And here it is. The moment of truth. Steve grins right back at Eddie and turns around, letting him see the graphic on his shirt. It's one he bought at a Corroded Coffin concert a year ago. It has the band's first album cover emblazoned across it with Eddie front-and-center, playing his guitar with the other band members around him as bats swirl in a red haze above their heads.

Eddie stares at the shirt, his smile freezing on his face and his body tensing. Panic starts to fill his eyes, and he glances up, looking ready to explain himself only to stop when he sees Steve's soft, endeared smile. He pauses, studying Steve's expression for a moment before laughing a little awkwardly and tugging on a lock of his hair, using it to cover his mouth. "So, uh, you knew the whole time," he says.

"Yep," Steve replies, leaning forward on the counter so it's harder for Eddie to avoid looking at him. "I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eddie asks.

"You didn't want me to," Steve says. Then he considers his words and corrects, "Or, you didn't want to be recognized. When you first came in, you were bracing yourself for it, and I figured you'd feel more comfortable if I pretended not to know you."

"What about all the other times?"

Steve shrugs, his smile becoming reassuring. "I figured you'd either tell me when you were ready, or I'd tell you when we went on a date because you'd probably get all in your head about having a secret like that while we were dating."

And Steve is right. Eddie would have freaked out over the secret, and he would have struggled with telling Steve at just the right moment, and time would have stretched on and on until it had been too long to tell him anything. It would have been agony for Eddie and left Steve concerned and just not a good time for anyone.

"So, uh, how long have you been a fan?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I wasn't lying about hearing your music from Lucas, but I did lie about the time. It was two years ago," Steve explains.

Eddie slowly nods and then starts to grin. "So, how's it feel dating a celebrity?" he asks playfully, leaning closer and wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Like a Wattpad fantasy come true," Steve deadpans, nearly cracking when he hears Robin lose her shit behind him, her laughter turning into wheezes within seconds.

Eddie laughs, too. It's loud and bright and makes Steve feel warm and happy, like every problem could be solved simply by making Eddie laugh just like this.

Steve is eager to find out if that's true.

#steddie #steddie fic #librarian steve harrington #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #5 + 1 fic #my writing #i'm a librarian btw so this was a bit inspired by my experiences #also fuck the dewey decimal system all my homies hate the dewey decimal system #it is a plague upon this earth

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rebelspykatie · 1 year

Text

RWRB Steddie AU - Part 1

Wayne Munson who accidentally won the presidency running on a progressive working class ticket. Eddie Munson, the first son that causes international incidents without even trying. Like the time he made a crude hand gesture towards a foreign dignitary thinking he was saluting them. Or the time he connected his phone to the speakers during a dnc event and blasted Metallica through the entire arena. Or the time he knocked over a child on the lawn of the White House during the annual Easter egg hunt and had to issue an apology to a five year old for stealing their eggs.

Wayne has reprimanded him more than he’s spoken in front of Congress. The secret service hates him, especially Hopper, who has to drag him back inside when he tries to escape down the trellis and cockblocks him from flirting with the barista at the Starbucks right outside of the White House.

But nobody hates him more than Prince Steven. He doesn’t even understand why Steve hates him, only that their first interaction was disastrous, leaving Eddie fuming and confused. He remembers seeing Steve all over those teen magazines before Wayne had any political aspirations, his now gorgeous locks once too big for his tiny head and hazel eyes staring back at him from the glossy pages. Gareth never let him hear the end of it when he found those magazines tucked away under his bed, a collection that only grew over the years as Steve got more attractive.

The frosty reception from Steve had Eddie doubting every good thing those magazines ever said about how charming the prince could be. Sure, not a single hair was out of place on his stupid head and his polos were ironed within an inch of their lives, but his smile was fake and a bitchy retort slipped out of his mouth before Eddie could even introduce himself.

He gave up on playing nice after that, not heeding his Uncle’s advice to stay away and not cause another international scandal while he was trying to make a deal with their prime minister. He practically begged Eddie to keep his big, dumb mouth shut.

Which is of course why The Incident happened. Eddie was a bit too drunk at a dinner for diplomats and their families. He approached Steve and started going on about the monarchy, a bit too loudly, where a very nosy reporter could hear. And that reporter wrote a scathing article about the first son not believing in tradition and how he was trying to undermine the authority of the crown, dredging up old tweets about how useless monarchies are and how Steve is handed things on a silver spoon.

Wayne’s deal is in jeopardy, so he’s sent to smooth over international relations with the crown, which is a horrible idea considering Eddie’s track record. Staged photo ops have always made Eddie uncomfortable, but he sucks it up for Wayne. He winds up enjoying himself more than he thought possible in Steve’s presence because one of their PR stops is at a teen center where a group of kids regularly plays dnd.

If it weren’t for a swift tug on the back of his suit from Hopper, Eddie would be standing on the table flailing around about a campaign, having already forgotten about the swath of reporters following them around on this tour. Steve doesn’t appear to know anything about dnd, but the little curly headed boy with an infectious toothy smile keeps tugging him around, talking a mile a minute while Steve fondly rolls his eyes. It’s the most relaxed Eddie has ever seen him.

He learns that they’re both insomniacs during that trip, stumbling into the kitchen at 2am only to find Steve already there, riffling through the pantry. It’s the first time he’s ever seen Steve without the ramrod straight posture, notices the circles under his eyes and the way he’s always got a line of tension in his jaw. They come to some kind of truce in the dark of night over twin bowls of cereal. Something inside of Eddie unfurls at that, lets go of whatever weird grudge he was holding after their first interaction.

It starts with a text. Steve sends him an article with the most ridiculous picture of Eddie, asks if he wakes up looking like that every morning. They’re teasing each other, taunting remarks about their status, realizing they have more in common than they thought. All summer, Eddie’s eyes are glued to his phone, anticipating texts from HRH (his royal hairiness), late nights dedicated to learning everything about Steve. Chrissy, the vice president’s daughter, corners him before the annual Halloween Party, forces him to invite his new friend Steve. She says it with a tone he doesn’t really understand, but it’s one that brooks no argument.

Maybe he learns all too well what Chrissy meant when it’s close to midnight and Steve pushes him against a tree outside and kisses him so thoroughly Eddie’s lost all oxygen to his brain. It changes the course of his entire life. He can’t stop thinking about it, feels the phantom taste of Steve on his tongue, but Steve isn’t answering his calls and Eddie doesn’t get a chance to corner him until a charity event almost a month later.

They take each other apart that night, spend hours learning each other's bodies. Confessions spilled into the sheets they’re tangled in. Steve admits that his father arranged for him to be seen with Nancy Wheeler, who he has no interest in. They decide to try something casual, see each other when they can, get some much needed relief from the public eye. But Eddie’s never been the casual type, and he doesn’t think Steve is either, not after their nightly talks. He falls hard and eagerly hopes for more every time they meet up, wishing that Steve wouldn’t flee from his bed the next morning.

Wayne’s pretty busy, running a country and all, but he eventually puts the pieces together on Eddie’s disappearances and his trips coinciding with events where Steve is present. His uncle knows him better than to think they’re just friends. Eddie never really had to come out to his Uncle, but they do have an intense talk on whether he’s ready to be perceived in that way by everyone in the world, Wayne apologizing for putting him in the spotlight.

But Eddie feels forever about Steve. And Wayne’s presidency brought him to this man, to the love of his life, so there’s no way he could be upset about any of it.

If only Steve felt forever about him.

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #katie writes #you get two stories today as I continue to try to catch up with what i posted on twitter already #thank you for your patience #wayne munson

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daddy-ul · 2 months

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I love the Metallica report so much.

#WTF DOES IT MEAN #'inamorata is hakuna matata to me'#JAMES??????#WTF DOES IT MEANNNNNN SISKWKWJWJWJS #metallica report #i swear i did not expect that and i laughed out loud for real while i was preparing lunch #that is what lars calls a 'sound bite'#i gotta have it on my blog. i need to record that and put it here for NOBLE reasons #memetallica #james hetfield #is a fucking goof #also please give the metrep a chance. pick a random ep that inspires you and go. you will have fun. just not the first one. the others #are good

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prosciuttulipa · 8 months

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What profession would La Squadra be in, if they weren't in the mafia?

aka what normal jobs La Squadra would use their Stand abilities for because I love being a bit silly

Risotto: Blacksmith/Artisan

I feel this is rather intuitive, with Metallica. He's one of the most sought after blacksmiths in Italy, and is famous for producing kitchen knives. Any self-respecting chef knows of Risotto's knives— the word around is that his knives are so sharp, they cut through bone like butter. They require little to no maintenance, not to mention the fact that it takes years for them to start getting dull. Because of their outstanding quality, Risotto's knives are constantly in high demand, so much so that he's able to jack up the prices to eyewatering amounts. They're also limited in stock, since he only makes 52 a year, one for each week.

(He can definitely make more, but why bother? Work smart, not hard.)

He also has other side brands to his blacksmith business. He has a branch for barber supplies—razors and hairdressing scissors, whose blades also share that signature sharpness. He tried to start a side brand for stationery, but quickly stopped production when it was reported that kids had hurt themselves on the scissors and mechanical pencils. Luckily, the scandal was quickly forgiven, seeing that Risotto had covered these kids' medical fees as soon as he was notified.

His favourite side brand, however, is his jewellery. It's a hit amongst the goth and emo communities, who enjoy his horror-inspired designs. There's one design that has been affectionately dubbed 'Ghosties': little monsters with ghoulish faces, wiggling around in bunches. His most popular product is his blood jewellery—buyers send him a vial of their blood, and he transforms it into a jewellery piece of their choosing. The patterns on the metal arise from the makeup of the client's blood, making each piece one-of-a-kind.

Prosciutto: Winery Owner

Rotting is just a hop, skip and a jump away from fermenting, and The Grateful Dead always delivers results.

Prosciutto's wines are an enigma to connoisseurs. A general rule of thumb is that wine is better the longer it's been fermented, but Prosciutto's year-old wines taste like they've been aged for decades. This makes his actual, decade-old wines the pinnacle of decadence: rich, smooth, and unforgiving on the wallet.

His winery produces all sorts, but he's most famous for his red wines. They're full-bodied and complex the way a symphony is, each layer arising with an almost engineered exactness. Many say that he's managed to manipulate the precise amount of fermentation for each component—a compliment that Prosciutto receives with a wry smile.

Most people are happy to accept that wineries have their trade secrets, but Prosciutto's one generates more discourse than most. His winery has been the subject of many a rumour—that he steals and resells other wineries' products; that he adds illegal substances into his wines to make them taste that good; that he's a nepo baby who inherited his father's wine collection and is just slapping his own brand onto old bottles.

It's when an investigative journalist tries to break into Prosciutto's winery, only for his body to turn up in a river a week later, that the rumours stop circulating. There have been a few more attempts to unveil the winery's secrets since then, but each one has resulted in more dead bodies. If it's a competing winery who's trying to do some digging, they find that an entire decade of their wine goes bad the very next day.

Because of this, Prosciutto's winery has also earned the nickname, 'Azrael's Wine'. It hasn't affected sales in the slightest.

Formaggio: Heister

I'm certain that there are other jobs which Little Feet would be useful for, but Formaggio likes to live life on the edge. He's the only person (aside from Illuso) that I can see willingly choosing a life of crime, if he had a chance for a do-over.

So yes, he absolutely would abuse his abilities to steal things. He starts small at first, nicking wallets and watches, taking them off their owners without piquing their notice. But as he grows more confident, he pulls off more elaborate robberies—stealing diamond necklaces off their stands in broad daylight, sneaking into safes by shrinking to the size of their locks, breaking them from the inside out. He's more than able to get in and out without a trace, but Formaggio is a cocky bastard, and leaves a shrunken shoe at each scene, a sign that he was there and got away with it. As his crimes start to gain traction, the shoes earn him the nickname, 'Ken Doll'.

His biggest heist is when he steals the chandelier from Tiffany's. It takes a week to pull off, unscrewing the chandelier slowly and imperceptibly, shrinking parts of it in the night. He has to live inside the chandelier the entire time, but he doesn't mind; it's beautiful, and he feels like he's in a mansion. But as soon as the last screw is undone, he shrinks the chandelier and stuffs it into his pocket, taking off with a triumphant cackle. The only evidence that he was there is a cheeky, normal-sized shoe hanging from the ceiling.

Illuso: Storage Facility Owner (?)

I feel like Illuso is the sort of person you imagine when someone says, "I know a guy," and Man in the Mirror doesn't help his case in the slightest. Or maybe that's how he likes it. Hard to tell, with Illuso.

On his business cards, he's a storage facility owner. He owns several warehouses, and they're well maintained. Companies who store with him are impressed by how neat everything is, not a single dust particle to be found when they retrieve their items. Contrary to popular belief (re: his resting bitch face), he provides excellent customer service, things showing up where and when they're needed without a hitch.

But there are a few things about the operation that feel a bit...off. There are no employees in these warehouses, save for the occasional elderly cleaner. Illuso doesn't hire any delivery trucks for his company, which doesn't line up with the amount of things he has to store and transport. Then there's the matter that all the storage rooms are lined with mirrors. It strikes his clients as strange—what if something falls and shatters the glass?—but they never comment.

One time, a salesman had forgotten his things in one of the storage rooms, having just delivered 20 boxes of supplies. He returned to the room, and to his surprise, found that nothing was in there, save for what he had left behind. Distressed, he went to find Illuso, saying that someone had stolen his company's supplies.

"Relax, sir," Illuso had assured him, with a smile that the salesman didn't dare question, "everything is safe with me, I assure you."

After all, what safer storage is there than a mirror world?

Melone: Fortune Teller for Couples

Melone will be making no strange creatures with Baby Face, but he will be using it to predict couple compatibility, and the character of their children, should they want any.

At first, he started off by giving predictions to his girl friends when they met on Sundays for tea, accurately guessing whether the new person they were dating would be a hit or a miss. It had been all fun and games at first, but when it became clear that Melone's accuracy was damn near perfect, Sunday tea times were taken with all the seriousness of a prophecy. His friends invited more friends, who invited more friends, until he ended up just opening a stall on Sundays to predict couple compatibility.

Apart from his skill, Melone's personality made him a major hit from the get-go. He gave surprisingly good advice that wasn't just "incompatible horoscopes", offering insightful ideas about communication, boundaries and care. However, he would occasionally forget to follow what he preached, becoming enamoured with how pretty a woman's skin was, or explaining in entirely too much detail how fertile someone's husband would be if they wanted children.

He became significantly more careful with his tongue (both literally and figuratively) when he was scouted by radio for his predictions, widening his audience to the entirety of Italy. His show, 'Matching with Melone', aired during Sunday tea times, during which couples would send in their details and horoscopes. There was doubt as to whether or not Melone's accuracy would hold up, but without fail, he managed to predict the fortune or downfall of each couple he interviewed.

Once, a listener rang in, saying that Melone had predicted the outcome of their relationship incorrectly. The man had laughed, and answered, "Darling, Melone is never wrong. Only your horoscope is."

It turns out that, as always, Melone was right. The listener thought that their partner was a Pisces, but it turns out they were an Aries instead. Oops.

Ghiaccio: Freezer Warehouse Owner

Unlike Illuso, Ghiaccio's business is fairly cut and dry. What you see is what you get, with White Album keeping his freezers cold all year round. He's only got one warehouse, located near the coast for fishermen to dump their produce in.

There's honestly not much to say about Ghiaccio's life. He keeps out of people's way, finding them irritating most of the time; his job is a means of money, not purpose. Aside from the daily check that his freezers are still freezing, he spends most of his time relaxing on the dock, hanging out with Pesci (elaborated on in Pesci's part). He hates that the coast is such a popular tourist spot, though. He can't stand it when he hears foreigners mispronouncing Italian words.

Otherwise, it's a quiet existence. Sometimes, when he's feeling it, he'll freeze a path into the sea, standing on the ice to watch the stars.

Pesci: Fisherman

True to Beach Boy, Pesci finds a quiet and fulfilling life as a fisherman. Although his ability ensures that he has a catch every time, he makes sure not to overfish, so that the ecosystem stays balanced. He doesn't have his own stall at the local fisherman's market, preferring to sell his catch from his boat instead. He finds that he's able to converse with the locals in a much more intimate manner this way, taking his time to chat with them instead of hurrying them off for the next customer.

Once he's sold everything for the day, Pesci spends his afternoons trying to teach Ghiaccio how to fish; Ghiaccio had approached him about it, the man saying that he had heard it was a good way to learn patience. It's been slow going. Sitting on the dock and waiting for a fish to bite has not seemed to produce any further patience for Ghiaccio, but he returns day after day out of spite. Though, Pesci likes to think it's a little bit for his company as well.

They talk idly about town affairs and daily life, otherwise happy to sit in silence. Every so often, Pesci will use his ability to guide a fish onto Ghiaccio's line, smiling as his friend lets out a triumphant shout. It feels good, to give back.

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llittletingoddess · 1 year

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We are getting fed ❤️‍🔥

#metallica #the metallica report

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rocknbolan · 3 months

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Recap 7-12

General News:

T-shirt theft continues, a rash of apparel crime, apparently. First crimes done in the Skid Row camp, and now Letti getting on Axl (GnR) to return her Faster Pussycat t-shirt or else!

Something happened to Jani (Warrant), Bret (Poison) arriving swiftly to extract him from a party. Where did things go wrong? Only someone well versed in drunk-ese will be able to decipher the Warrant frontman's type to figure it out.

Kitchen foibles continue in the Primus camp, Herb trying to put a taco into the toaster. For his crimes, banished to the chicken coop to sleep with Buckethad! Oh the humanity!

Rob (Skid Row) tackled the math problem of 2 + 2, with help from Arthur (New York Dolls), Dave (Megadeth) and Bret (Poison). While a number of solutions were floated around, and arguments/insults over who was wrong traded, eventually Snake slid in and helped Rob figure out the answer. (It's 4. FOUR. srsly.)

The Gossiptrain:

Rumor hazzit that øystein can't reach the sink! Height or skill issue? We just don't know.

Rumor also hazzit that Scotti (Skid Row) is kinda dumb. Rachel disagrees but he's also very biased. HEY I AM NOT!

Another rumor, Jani (Warrant)'s cat can open doors. Also he takes showers at 4:30 pm because he is from Ohio.

Fred (Cinderella) is rumored to e a grown man. IS HE? Inquiring minds want to know.

Joined the Chat: Jeff Nahherman @r3ign-in-bl00d has joined the chat!

Tom Araya @hauntingthechap3l has joined the chat!

And now, the weather:

It's a beefstorm, rockland. A cold front jettisoned down from up north and we got Lars (Metallica) beefin' with everyone. With Max (Escape the Fate), with Mozart, with Ron. Hide your kids, hide your wife, and hide your husband cause he's beefin' with everyone out here.

Also affected are Snake and Rachel (Skid Row), arguing over... someone having a crush on Rob? Don't ask, we just don't know. That weather front stalled out over Rob, though, demanding both his bandmates apologize to each other.

Meanwhile, there's a flash flood warning in the Motley Crue and GnR vicinities, Nikki reporting pipes breaking or... is that sewage backup? Either way, steer clear. Turn around, don't drown!

#rock star rp recap

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tjmystic · 1 month

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I've heard that everyone hates crossovers, but bear with me for a moment.

I think it's safe to say that Dean Winchester—Dean who canonically hums Metallica when he's scared, who still owns cassette tapes in 2020, who loves Led Zeppelin with a passion—would be a huge fan of Corroded Coffin (in an alternate universe where Eddie didn't die and, instead, got to live out his dreams of becoming a rockstar). I think it's safe to say that Dean would own every one of their albums, know all of the guitar riffs by heart, obsess over the band's lore as much as he does any monster's. I think it's safe to say that Eddie Munson, who would have just started making it big when Dean was still a kid, would be one of Dean's rock heroes.

So imagine that same Dean, about age 35, off on a hunt. He and Sam are fighting. Cas has fucked off to who-knows-where. He's riding solo on this one. A contact of a contact of a contact called him to give him a heads-up about something lurking around this ghost town in Indiana. Like, literal ghost town—no one's lived there since the early 90s, and there are huge craters dividing the town into quarters. Dean agrees immediately, because this sounds like exactly his kind of thing. He finds out that there was a string of disappearances and murders between 83 and 86. He finds tabloid reports of dogs with flowers for faces. He finds more tabloids about supposed MK Ultra research activity in the local lab, long-since shut down. But, best of all, he finds out that this town used to be called Hawkins. Hawkins, Indiana, aka the hometown of the one and only Eddie Munson, front-man of Corroded Coffin.

He's fricking ecstatic.

At least, he is until he gets there. Until he starts doing a little exploring. Hawkins is nothing but a dead-end. Literally no one lives here anymore. And, more importantly, none of the usual tricks are working. No cold chills, no smells of sulfur, no fogged breath. The streetlights keep flickering, but that's to be expected in a "town" this empty. He's about to call it quits, write this one off as a dud, when, suddenly, there's a clicking sound, and the trunk of the tree he's staring at starts to warp. A monster at least 9 feet tall with gray skin and a flower-shaped head climbs out. He can't even begin to think of what this thing might be. He's never seen anything like it.

So imagine Dean's surprise when he's almost immediately saved by Eddie Munson himself, brandishing a can of hairspray and a lighter, and a veritable silver fox swinging a bat full of nails?

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean is bi #steddie #eddie munson

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the-mighty-het-speaks · 2 months

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james and steff talking about inamorata

the metallica report: episode 50

#HAKUNA MATATA????#i don’t fucking know

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munsonsduchess · 2 years

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Rock N' Roll Dreams Come True

summary: you've been joining corroded coffin on tour and at a big show eddie can't keep his hands off you w/c: 2.767 warnings: 18+ only minors dni, swearing, oral (f receiving), use of afab language to describe the reader (pussy, cunt), p in v sex a/n: i love rockstar eddie with my whole soul and my whole 🐱so this one getting the most votes on the poll seemed like a no brainer, again i did take a lot of this from something I'd written before for a different fandom but i've edited it and changed some stuff

if you like this please consider reblogging it and leaving a comment, it always helps me out

(moodboard by me)

It had been a dream come true when the Band got picked up originally. They’d played small shows here and there at first, bigger bars than the hideout, a couple local music festivals nothing mind blowing. That came later when Corroded Coffin had been asked to be the warm up act for the warm up act for a very famous band.

Now here you all were, it had been ten years of climbing the ladder but Corroded Coffin could sell out an area almost as quickly as Metallica or Iron Maiden or any other band you’d care to mention.

Everyone at home who had cheered them on, who’d believed in the band, they were the original fans. They might not be screaming their songs back to them in a sweaty crowd of metal heads or getting riled up in a mosh pit but there was no way Gareth, Jeff or Eddie could forget those friends who’s faith had never wavered.

Dave the new guy maybe didn’t understand at first when a guy in glasses and pink Ralph Lauren polo showed up backstage with a girl who wouldn’t stop running her mouth in the most beat up pair of red chucks. Or why a certain hard nose reporter was only too happy to do fluff pieces on the band's meteoric rise to fame. He understood the California Stoners a little more but it still kind of baffled him when everyone begged one guy to take their pictures.

This was Eddie’s family. Your family. The band and the Hawkins group. You were all older now, maybe not wiser but you would always share something deep, spring break 86 had truly bonded you all for life. Most of Eddie’s early song writing for the band after Spring Break is what got the band picked up in the first place.

So there you were. Sitting on a busted amp backstage watching the boys argue before going on stage. Eddie had apparently broken some sort of rule about being 'cool' and 'metal' to the point where the other three guys just couldn't let it go. Gareth had even decided to document the 'crime' with his polaroid and now everyone was playing keep away while the photo developed and threatening to give it to the next reporter they spoke to,

“You’re ruining my image!” Eddie protested, "come on dude don't be a dick"

“You’re ruining your own image! You’re drinking out of a juice box! What are you six?” Gareth shot back, holding the picture above his head and signaling for Jeff to take it

“I need the vitamin c!” Eddie shot back, "it's not my fault you all want to get scurvy"

You couldn't help but laugh as Jeff took the picture and handed it off to a random crew member telling them to guard it with their life while Dave and Gareth wrestled with Eddie. This was the Corroded Coffin people didn't get to see, just four guys who loved each other and loved music, not the on stage personas, not what the media loved to make them out to be and you were so fortunate you got to experience it all.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The sound of the crowd cheering and chanting the band name sent chills up your spine and looking up at the others you could tell the band felt it too,

“Knock them dead babe” you smiled reaching up to grab Eddie by the lapels of his worn leather jacket to bring him down for a searing kiss,

“Always do” he laughed before shrugging out of the jacket and draping it over your shoulders. A little pre-show ritual he swore brought the band luck and with how the tour had been going so far, no one could fault him.

You watched as the band took the stage and the crowd went wild. Your chest swelled with excitement as Eddie started playing, a wink thrown to you waiting there for him before his attention turned to the rest of the band and all that nervous energy transformed into an unbelievable stage presence.

You’d read every article that came out about the boys and saved every article you’d found, clipped from magazines and pasted into a scrapbook you were keeping so that in years to come when you were all old and looking back on the glory days of your youth, the boys could look back at their beginnings. Along with Gareth's collection of Polaroids, embarrassing or not.

The articles that made you laugh were usually the ones written about Eddie and his stage presence. The way he acted when he was playing had these journalists convinced he was some sort of tantric sex god, they drew their conclusions from the energy he put out while on stage and how touchy he was with you after. The band thought it was hilarious honestly and put it down to lead guitarist syndrome, everyone assumed because Eddie played lead he was just this amazing lover who could never be sated and while it was partially true it wasn’t everything the assorted press made your relationship out to be.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Eddie’s hair shone under the stage lights, his body covered in a sheen of sweat as he played his heart out to a stadium packed full of screaming fans. They were here to hear him play, just to hear their band. No one else. It had been a long time coming, from playing the hideout every Tuesday to a band of drunks who yelled and threw empty beer bottles at the chicken wire surrounding the 'stage' and demanded old country songs to being hare, now and playing a sold out stadium of die hard Corroded Coffin fans.

His eyes flicked back to where you were standing, your arms inside his oversized jacket as you sang along to every song and danced along to the music. You knew every word to every song they played, you’d been there when most of it was written and Eddie swore up and down you were the band’s good luck charm. If you hadn’t been there at the club there’s no way the band would have ended up where they are now.

Turning his attention back to the crowd, Eddie poured his heart and soul into their last few songs knowing that everyone else would do just the same pouring every ounce of their being into the music. That's what it was all about in the end, the lights, the crowds, the fame, it was all secondary to the music itself.

As the band finally finished their set before the encore they came back off stage to change quickly and rehydrate. Eddie had other ideas apparently and rushed at you, sweeping you into his arms ignoring your cries of protest about how sweaty he was and demands that he at least wipe down first,

“Need you now baby” he groaned in your ear, pressing himself against you so you could feel just how hard he was. The energy from the crowd had been unlike anything else they’d experienced all tour and Eddie needed you.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

You were giggling as Eddie stole kisses as he dragged you towards the band's dressing room, the rest of the boys staying behind with warnings that Eddie better not miss the encore and threats of serious bodily harm if he did. His kisses were heated the closer you both got to the dressing room, your protests about his sweat slicked body dying in your throat before you had a chance to voice them. Instead they surfaced as little moans as Eddie’s hands roamed all over your body, he pushed you through the dressing room door and kicked it shut behind him.

Eyes dark as they took in your form, your home made corroded coffin shirt you wore to every show since the first one you'd ever been to, but above all you were still wearing his jacket and Eddie would freely admit what seeing you in his clothes did to him,

“Baby do you have any idea how hot it is knowing my girl is on tour with me?” he grinned, his hands reaching out to pull you in close by your hips, “knowing everyone is looking at you but they can’t touch”

His teeth nipped at your neck as he sucked a bruise at the base of your throat, his hands trailing down your body to push your skirt up around your hips. You moaned openly as his hands kneaded your backside, Eddie knew exactly where to touch you to make you melt into him.

You pulled at the hem of the tank top Eddie was wearing and managed to pull it off with his help. As soon as the tank top was off Eddie’s hands were pushing you back towards the couch,

“Gonna fuck you so good baby, gonna make you scream my name so everyone knows who you belong to” he growled into your ear.

You let out a yelp of surprise when the back of your knees hit the arm of the couch, reaching out for something to grab onto so you wouldn’t fall but only grabbing air as you toppled backwards. Eddie smirked and licked his lips at the sight of your legs propped up by the arm of the couch while the rest of your body lay flat on the couch.

Crouching down so he was at eye level with your throbbing pussy, Eddie pushed your legs apart and settled himself between your opened thighs. You could feel the heat of his breath against your panties, the sensation only made you wetter as you waited for whatever Eddie had in store for you.

It wasn’t much of a wait as Eddie’s large hands trailed up your thighs, over your panties, his fingers ghosting over the waistband. Placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs Eddie moved his fingers along the seam of your panties chuckling to himself when he started rubbing his thumb against clit and hearing the moan you let out in response,

“That’s my good girl, be as loud as you want baby. Want everyone to hear you” he crooned fingers rubbing your soaked panties against your needy cunt,

“Please Eddie, need you, please” you begged, you wanted more than this teasing sensation. Needed him to stretch you out with those thick fingers, needed him.

Eddie laughed at how needy you were for him. Who was he to deny his girl anything she wanted? His good girl..

“Since you asked so nicely” the sound of fabric ripping filled your ears before Eddie’s mouth was attached to your dripping pussy, licking up the slick from your folds and moaning at the taste of you. Always so sweet for him, he could stay here for hours and had done so on more than one occasion.

You keened loudly at the feel of him, his tongue working wickedly between your legs as he sucked on your clit like it was his favourite milkshake, “taste so good honey” he purred as he slipped a long finger into you.

“Please Eddie, need more” you gasped, “please, please”

“Greedy little girl, you want more than this? Tell me what you want”

“Need you to fuck me, need your cock inside me”

Eddie almost gave in then and there. His cock was straining against the denim of his jeans, it was painfully hard but he was a man on a mission and he would not be deterred. Instead he added another finger using them to stretch you open as his mouth went back to work on your clit.

The room smelt of sex and sweat, the sounds of your moans and Eddie’s fingers in your wet pussy filling the air to the point that you were sure the crowd could hear it from the main stage. It was music to Eddie’s ears and he wasn’t going to stop until you made the sweetest sound of all for him.

Adding another finger he worked them in tandem with his mouth as he found the spot inside that had you seeing stars and gripping his hair tightly in your hands begging him not to stop. You could feel the coil tightening in your tummy, you were so close and Eddie could feel it too with how your walls were fluttering around him,

“That’s it baby, cum for me” he encouraged, his fingers moving quicker and quicker until you felt the pressure inside you boil over and you came with a loud moan of his name soaking both Eddie’s fingers and his chin.

He didn’t stop until he was sure you had come back down from your high and you were panting on the couch trying to catch the breath he’d stolen from your lungs.

Standing up Eddie quickly unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down around his ankles. He looked down at you, your face flushed and chest heaving. God you looked so pretty like this, all wrecked after an orgasm. Almost as pretty as when he fucked you into your shared hotel room bed every night.

That was for later, for now Eddie needed you and he wasn’t going to wait. He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed in, gripping your hips tightly as he did so. God you were so tight, so warm, he had to be careful not to blow his load there and then.

A string of curses left his lips until he bottomed out. The stretch was almost unbearable every time Eddie filled you but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t love the feel of his thick cock dragging through your pussy walls.

The way Eddie fucked you like each time was the first and the last and he’d never get to feel this again, dragging his cock out of you until just the tip was left inside before slamming his hips back against yours. Again and again, angling his hips so that the tip of his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you.

You were clawing at the couch, his arms, anything you could reach. Moaning loudly at each deep stroke inside, you were sure you could feel Eddie in your stomach and it felt incredible.

You could feel yourself getting close again as your pussy clenched down around Eddie’s cock. Knowing you both weren’t going to last much longer he reached between your sweaty bodies and rubbed quick energetic circles on your clit encouraging you to come apart around him.

It didn’t take long for your high to wash over you again and you were screaming Eddie’s name for everyone to hear as your vision whited out, Eddie continued to fuck you through your high his own not far behind as he released into you with a grunt.

You stayed like that for a moment as you caught your breath. Splayed out on the couch with Eddie’s weight on top of you, his head resting on your stomach. Finally he looked up at you with a boyish grin on his face,

“Fuck honey you were amazing” he praised, a small kiss placed against your belly button as he pulled out and you groaned at the empty feeling left behind.

Eddie disappeared from your line of sight for a moment before coming back with a warm wet towel to clean you off with. He placed another chaste kiss against the inside of your thighs before helping you stand and fix your clothes and hair. Not that the other members of the band or really anyone backstage wouldn’t know what the two of you had just been up to.

Reaching up you captured his lips with your own and smiled into the kiss. Maybe the magazines were on to something after all. The moment was broken when Jeff began knocking hard on the door of the dressing room,

"You have two seconds to get out here or I swear to god I'll kill you myself!"

Eddie pulled the door open wide and grinned at Jeff's irate expression as if he hadn't just been fucking your brains out on the couch,

"Relax, I told you I wouldn't miss the encore!" Eddie gave you a quick parting kiss before following after Jeff to finish the set for good.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

Days later Eddie came back to the hotel you were currently crashing in with a ‘surprise’ for you. Peeling off his jacket he was able to show off a brand new tattoo, a heart with both of your names written inside. Eddie showed it proudly on stage that night proclaiming to all the world his love for one girl.

His sweetheart.

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Let me know if you want to be added!

His sweetheart.

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