Eddie Munson x Reader | 𝗢𝗻𝗲𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝟭𝟴+

Vocal Exercise (18+)

You nibbled at your thumb as you stared at the sign-up sheet. It shouldn't be this difficult a decision, so why was it? You had played in front of a crowd before. Your band was always excited about any opportunity to play. What was keeping you from signing up for the annual Battle of the Bands?

You heard him before you saw him. The bane of your existence. Eddie Munson. The chains attached to his clothing rattled with every confident step he took.

You had no good reason to dislike Eddie. There was just something about him that got under your skin, and he knew it. He used the fact to his advantage, even if only to get a rise out of you.

You refused to turn your gaze to him as you continued staring at the sign-up sheet. Three entries so far, and no Corroded Coffin in sight. Tammy Thompson was on top of the list, as always.

"Unless you've developed telekinesis, can you move?" His voice, though somewhat attractive, was like nails on a chalkboard. It sent raised the hairs on the back of your neck.

You grumbled as you crossed your arms, took a step back and gestured to the sheet. "All yours, Munson."

"What, too scared to sign up? Not like you'll win. Why don't you just let the pros do what they do and keep practising in your friend's basement until you're ready, hmm?" He smirked as he all but etched 'CORRODED COFFIN' into the paper.

"Oh yeah, the pros, like Tammy Thompson? I'm sure she'll get real far. Can't beat raw talent, Munson." You rolled your eyes as you snatched the pen from his hands and wrote your band's name under Eddie's recognisable handwriting.

Eddie never moved an inch, leaning against the wall. He watched as you scribbled your bandmember's names and what you'd be doing, never taking his eyes off your disgruntled face.

Usually, you'd try to not let him have the upper hand. His gaze was knawing, screaming at you to return it. You caved and turned to look. His smirk grew as he chewed his gum obnoxiously. "See you there, (Y/L/N)."

_____

"I don't think I can do this. I think I'm gonna hurl." You fanned your face as the stagehand came over to give you your microphone headset. The loud music faded to a halt as Corroded Coffin finished their set.

"We'll leave you to it for a bit, yeah? I'll get you some water, maybe. Just calm down, it'll be fine." Your bandmates gave a thumbs-up as they filed out of the room.

"Y'know... I might know something to take the edge off." Eddie's voice came from the hallway, peering his head around the corner into your dressing room. His bangs stuck to his forehead, sweat covering his skin. Lucky bastard, he'd already gotten it over with.

"Piss off, Munson. I'm not interested in any of your drugs." You scoffed as you messed with the positioning of the clunky headset.

The stagehand left you once she connected all the wires and had given you the last rundown of when you'd be on. Three more acts, two and a half before your mic was hot. You had to get the vocal jitters out now.

Eddie paraded into the dressing room and closed the door behind him, locking it. "That's not exactly what I had in mind. But that offer does stand." He crossed his arms as he leaned against the vanity. You'd never quite noticed how toned they were or how tall he was until now.

Perhaps it was the adrenaline rushing through the room, your nerves combined with his post-performance butterflies. You couldn't help but be intrigued. You gestured for him to continue. -

He put his hands on your hips and pulled you to stand between his legs. You frowned as he leaned to whisper in your ear. "Nothing more relaxing than a decent orgasm, babe."