#eddie Munson x female reader

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: It's Hendrix's first Thanksgiving, and though he's not even one month old, he still manages to be part of a sweet surprise.

TW: Reader is breastfeeding, mention of Grandma, reference to the events of chapter 8

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

November 1999

You had given Eddie one job: buy the items on the shopping list—and only the items on the shopping list. There’s the usual weekly groceries, but now there’s the addition of ingredients for Thanksgiving dinner. 

And, of course, a plethora of diapers and wipes for your nearly three-week-old son. 

Sweet baby Hendrix is the reason why you’re excused from navigating the overcrowded Walmart aisles, and why Eddie and Harris have gone in your place. You gaze down at your infant son, wincing as he latches onto your breast. 

“There you go, little man,” you murmur, smoothing down a wisp of his hair. “We’ve got this.”

The apartment is unnaturally quiet; the only sound coming from the living room radiator kicking on to ward off the early winter chill. It’s the calm before the holiday whirlwind, a slice of silence carved out just for you. 

You savor it, inhaling deeply. Hendrix remains undisturbed by your chest rising and falling, happy to be filling his belly before his next nap. He spends his days eating, sleeping, or crying. As Harris says, he doesn’t do any tricks yet. 

Hendrix finishes nursing as the front door clicks open. Adjusting your shirt, you offer Eddie and Harris a tired smile. 

“Glad to see you two survived.”

“Sure did.” Eddie places the bags on the countertop. “And we stayed within budget.”

Your heart surges when he begins unpacking and pulls out a plastic bag filled with Granny Smith apples. Even though Eddie and Wayne will be doing most of the cooking this year—which means a lot of pre-made and boxed dishes—you had insisted on making Grandma’s applesauce. 

“These the right ones?” Eddie asks, wiping a fake bead of sweat from his brow when you answer in the affirmative. “Thank God. I know how much the applesauce means to you.”

You offer a grateful smile as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. It reminds you of the very first Thanksgiving you’d spent with him happened before you two were a couple—before he’d even taken you on a date. 

And, no, the drunken hook-up after his show at The Hideout didn’t count. 

Thanksgiving 1996 was spent eating Oreos and snuggling up on the couch, watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving with Eddie and Harris. Grandma was still alive, and you even caught a glimpse of her pre-illness self when Eddie played the Sinatra record. It seems like a million years ago, but it’s only been three. 

“Mommy, guess what?” Seven-year-old Harris calls out from where he’s peering into Hendrix’s bassinet. He doesn’t give you time to guess before he blurts out, “we got a surprise!”

You raise your brows. “A surprise? What is it?”

“Can’t tell ya.” He throws you a wink—where did he even learn that?—and makes a beeline for his room. 

Turning to your husband, you put your hands on your hips. “That surprise better not be more candy,” you warn. “He still has so much left from Halloween.”

Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Not candy.”

“Then what?”

“Can’t tell ya.” Eddie mimics the same wink as his oldest son, solving the mystery of its origin, tucking one particular bag underneath his arm. 

If you weren’t still freshly postpartum, you may have chased after him and insisted that he spill the secret. For now, you settle for flipping him off, and he blows you a cheeky kiss in return. 

Thanksgiving begins like any other normal day. Well, normal for the Munson household. 

Hendrix wakes up around the clock, but you get up for the day when his shrill wail jolts you from your sleep at six A.M. Your breasts are heavy with milk; a good thing, considering he sounds hungry. 

Harris, clad in his blue flannel pajamas, shuffles into your bedroom an hour later. He’s still wiping sleep from his eyes even as he talks. 

“Can we watch the parade?”

You hold your forefinger to your lips, praying that Harris’s entrance doesn’t wake the baby sleeping in Eddie’s arms. 

“It’s not on for another hour, Har Bear,” you whisper, patting the comforter. “But you can hang out with us until then.”

Harris nods, scrambling up onto the bed and plopping down between you and his dad. He glances up at Eddie with a pout. 

“Can I hold Hendrix? Pleeeeeease?”

Never one to shy away from theatrics, his brown eyes are wide as he pleads. 

“Actually,” Eddie says, his gaze flicking over to Harris, “I think we should get the surprise ready?”

Harris wrinkles his nose for a split second before he remembers. “Oh, yeah!” He tugs on Eddie’s undershirt sleeve. “We gotta do the surprise.”

You reach out for the baby, but Eddie shakes his head. “Not so fast, Sweetheart. All of the Munson boys are in on this.”

You’re not quite sure what your three-week-old could possibly contribute, but damn if you’re not intrigued. So you sit back, propped up against the pillows, and wait for them to return. 

Five minutes is long enough for you to doze off again, your body desperate for any scrap of sleep it can get. 

“Dad, she’s sleeping!” It comes from a voice right next to your ear. 

“Gently wake her up.” This voice is a bit farther away. Something shakes you. “I said gently, Har!”

You blink, massaging the back of your stiff neck from the awkward position you assumed during your impromptu nap. 

“I’m up.” You manage a small, tired smile. Harris stands right next to your bedside, but Eddie and Hendrix are nowhere to be found. “Is my surprise ready?”

Harris nods, glancing back at the empty doorway. “So…we just unwrapped the turkey, and it looks a little weird.”

He’s supposed to deliver it like it’s bad news, but his mischievous smile betrays him. 

Still, you play along. “It looks weird? What do you mean?”

That’s apparently Eddie’s cue. He creeps into the room, cradling Hendrix in his arms. Except the baby is no longer wearing his sage green pajamas. Now, he dons a brown onesie, a cartoon turkey face emblazoned on the belly. But the pièce de résistance is a tiny hat, a light brown pom pom puffing out from the top.

“That’s the cutest turkey I’ve ever seen!” Tears spring to your eyes, another sign that you’re still in the throes of postpartum hormones. You wipe them away before they can cause concern for the emotionally intuitive Harris. 

You reach out to take the teeny turkey from your husband. “I could just eat you right up,” you coo, pressing a kiss to Hendrix’s chubby cheek and breathing in his baby powder scent. 

“I found it,” Harris announces with a triumphant grin, “and Dad paid for it.”

“I know my place,” Eddie chuckles. “My wallet and I were ready.”

There’s a beat of silence as you take it all in. Your husband, proudly beaming as you snuggle Hendrix to your chest. Your oldest son, tickling Hendrix’s onesie-clad feet and making himself laugh. And your newborn-turned-turkey, scrunching up and then unfurling his little fist as he relaxes contentedly.

Harris looks up at you expectantly. “Is the parade on now?”

You and Eddie laugh, and Eddie ruffles Harris’s hair. 

There’s certainly plenty to be thankful for this year.

--

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x fem reader

warnings: mostly fluff but all my works are 18+, established relationship, fear of flying, a very dramatic nose bleed and eddie being an adorable but horny mf

a/n: i recently started rewatching supernatural again, and in doing so i came to the conclusion that dean and eddie are very similar. so this is a little something that’s loosely based off a scene in season 1, episode 4: phantom traveler. enjoy xx.

“are you seriously humming enter sandman right now?” you ask, amusement creeping into your voice as you glance over beside you.

only to see your boyfriend. with his cheeks flushed, leg bouncing erratically and ringed fingers gripping tightly onto the armrest nestled between you.

when you originally brought up the idea to book a flight to visit your folks for the holidays, instead of making the almost 10 hour trek to good ole’ minnesota, eddie had seemed all for it.

he encouraged it actually.

making some joke about how his “decrepit, aching twenty-six year old body” couldn’t handle another 10 hour drive.

however, the closer the trip loomed, the more reluctant eddie became. and he tried every which way to get you to cancel the flight and make the dreaded drive instead. but that was an argument he wasn’t going to win.

it wasn’t until the plane began to ascend into the air that the reason for his sudden reluctance became blatantly obvious.

eddie munson was scared, no scratch that—petrified of flying.

and try as you may, you just found that new tidbit to be even more endearing.

eddie gives you a sideways glare as you attempt to hide your grin. and really it shouldn’t be this funny. but maybe your lack of sleep from the early morning drive to the airport is finally beginning to weigh on you and soon the delirious giggles will start to kick in.

“yes, it calms me,” he huffs, gaze tearing away from you to glance out the small window of the plane.

“well you don’t look very calm to me.”

you rest a hand on his bouncing knee, just as another round of turbulence rocks through the cabin. and your amusement quickly delves into concern as he grips your arm to pull you closer into his side.

“okay—that cannot be normal!” he nearly whines, leaning his head back against the seat.

“baby, it’s just a little turbulence. you know you’re more likely to die in a car accident than on an airplane, right?”

while he appreciates your attempt to ease his mind a bit, it’s seriously not working.

“nice try, but i’ve seen final destination, sweetheart. i know how this shit ends.”

and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his dramatics.

soon his humming starts back up, becoming a lot louder. and earning him a solid kick in the back from the teenager seated in the row behind you. the kick seems to be perfectly timed however. as the force of it and another jostle of the plane has his body flying forward, his nose smashing directly into the seat in front of him.

his pained groan has your temper flaring, ready to whip your head around and give that shit head kid a piece of your mind. but you freeze when you notice the way he’s cradling his nose. your gaze following the drops of crimson that have dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt.

“shit, eddie you’re bleeding.”

he makes a noise in confirmation, but before he can utter some sarcastic remark you have unbuckled both of your seatbelts and hauled him to his feet.

the flashing seatbelt sign be damned.

a flight attendant tries to stop you on your way down the aisle toward the bathroom, but you’re having none of it.

“miss, you both need to return to your—”

and if looks could kill, this whole plane would come crashing down.

“either you let me through so i can help clean him up, or he makes a mess of your aircraft. your choice.”

while you can tell she wants to argue, seeing the blood beginning to seep through the space between his fingers has her moving aside to let you pass.

“christ, sweetheart.” eddie groans when you carefully shove him inside the small bathroom and squeeze in behind him.

“sit, now.” you order.

he does as instructed, spreading his legs so you can slip in between them. you grab a wad of the practically sheer toilet paper, running a corner of it beneath the stream of water.

“keep the bridge of your nose pinched, it’ll help stop the bleeding.”

and when you turn back toward him, your brows pull together in confusion. his lips are stretched in a toothy grin, any trace of his anxiety now forgotten.

at least for the moment.

you begin to gently dab at the drying blood on his upper lip, thankful that most of the gushing had ceased for the time being. and eddie winces slightly once you start to clean around his nose.

“why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, having felt his burning gaze from the moment he sat down.

“you’re just…” he trails off, slipping his fingers through the loop of your jeans to tug you closer—if that were even possible. “really fuckin’ sexy when you’re bossy.”

and a subtle glance down has you huffing out a laugh of disbelief.

“eddie, do you seriously have a boner right now?”

and he just grins wider.

“guilty as charged.”

[munsonify]

good morning kiss

pairing. eddie munson x fem!reader

summary. after endless attempts to try and wake you up, eddie’s kisses are finally what make your eyes open up

genre. fluff

warning/s. pet names (princess, baby, sweetheart), reference to being “his girl” and a “sleeping beauty”, she/her pronouns, kissing, slight allusions to sex (in past memory)

authors note. i’m so sorry if the pov is weird in this?? i tried writing this differently than i usually write my fics, so i think i might’ve been switching between past and present tense. anyways i hope you guys like this!!

word count. 529

disney princess collection

you look so peaceful. your eyes rest closed, body slumped into eddie’s bed. even in one of his ratty old kiss t-shirts and your cheek pressed against his floppy pillow, you look so beautiful.

it’s late april, sunlight spilling in through the window, catching his dusty blinds to cast shadows against his blankets. only glimpses of you illuminated - your right eyelashes, the bridge of your nose, one corner of your mouth that twitches ever so slightly in your sleep.

as much as eddie loves admiring you (with his distaste for interrupting your peace much stronger), you two had only 30 minutes to get ready for school. with a soft smile, eddie’s hand gently squeezes at your hip, shaking you with care. he knows you never wake from the first few shakes.

two more gentle shakes go by before he starts tracing his fingers beneath your his shirt. eddie’s voice, though a little gravelly, whispers softly into your ear, trying to ease you awake the best he can.

“gotta wake up sweetheart, don’t want you late again this week.”

you had two very logical explanations as to why you were late two times already this week. you spent monday morning preoccupied with the way eddie’s hand felt on your thigh on the drive to school. completely not your fault.

as for your second tardy, tuesday morning, you spent twenty minutes helping eddie replace the flat tire on your car. he insisted that it couldn’t wait, and that you need reliable transportation outside of himself. as if he’d ever say no to giving his girl a ride.

eddie still failed to wake you. your back was turned to him, though he could still see some of your face. the corner of your lip twitches again, but this time it looked somewhat like a smile to him.

with raised eyebrows, eddie pushes his weight up and over top of you to get a better look of your face. his fingers find their way to your tummy now, softly feeling your skin. he desperately wants you to keep resting. everything in him tells him to let you be. eddie, however, knew he’d feel guilty letting you be late again.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he whines softly, watching as your eyelashes flutter ever so slightly. you’re faking being asleep. with a wide grin plastered onto his face, eddie decides to play into it. his fingers begin to dance against the ticklish spots on your skin. still, you force yourself to stay ‘asleep’.

“what’s a guy gotta do to get his sleeping beauty to awaken?” that’s when it dawns on him. a kiss. the hand that was once on your tummy reaches up to your cheeks, smushing them together gently.

only a few seconds later was your cheek greeted with a big, wet kiss. quiet giggles erupt from your chest, slowly twisting in eddie’s arms to face his direction. in between your giggles, you can hear him whisper “she has risen”.

he un-smushes your cheeks for just a second, giggling along with you as you speak quietly. “i think your sleeping beauty needs one last kiss on the lips to seal the deal.”

“anything for my princess.”

———

taglist. @songbirdofthenight

[the-au-thor]

ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴜɴ | ᴘᴛ.14 | ᴇ.ᴍ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: everything is coming up roses (not really)

Cynthia and Gareth get married. You look stunning, Mun's hot.

Everything is gonna explode in your faces.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fey!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Click here

[¹][²][³][⁴][⁵][⁶][⁷][⁸][⁹][¹⁰][¹¹][¹²][¹³][¹⁴][¹⁵]

You climbed the stairs of the massive château, carrying your high boots in hand, and walked down the hallway. Before you even opened the door, you called out Eddie's name, pushing it open and stepping inside. They were about to play the final dance of the night, and you weren’t about to waste it searching for him. He’d mentioned going to the bathroom about fifteen minutes ago.

You’d been with him long enough to know that even if Eddie was setting some kind of bathroom world record, he wouldn’t take this long. So, with a slight huff, you shoved the door open and entered the room. The lamps on the bedside tables were on, casting a soft light across the space. That’s when you saw him, sitting on the bed, his profile illuminated.

He was hunched forward, elbows resting on his thighs, his hands holding his trusty notebook open.

“What…?” you murmured, catching your breath with a half-smile. “What are you doing with my notebook, Munson?” you asked, your voice teasing but tinged with reproach.

Eddie lifted his face to look at you, his expression fractured by a furrowed brow. There was something there—a mix of worry and maybe even disapproval.

“Your notebook fell on the floor,” he explained, pulling a card from the open pages. You recognized it instantly; Will had given it to you in Glastonbury after offering you that job. You’d tucked it into the notebook, trying not to stress about a decision you already knew, deep down, that you’d made but hadn’t been ready to face.

“Fey,” he said, his voice heavy, “I need to know why you’ve got Will Walsh’s number tucked away in here.”

You swallowed hard, bracing yourself. This was the start of a tough conversation, and a wedding wasn’t exactly the perfect setting for discussing your future with your partner. Everything had been going so smoothly—of course, something like this would come up now.

You’d arrived in France a few days ago, and right after the second concert in Paris, everyone traveled to Château du Rivau. A place originally built as a medieval fortress, steeped in history—literally—from the Hundred Years' War onward. It was almost spiritual, as Cynthia had put it, to add this union to the château’s storied past.

“Not that you can compare a rock star’s wedding to Joan of Arc’s cavalry,” Robin had whispered in your ear, “but I get her point.”

Robin, Steve, and Vickie had arrived to Paris with you. The rest of the psrty would arrived to the Wedding. Eddie, being the amazing friend he was, had ignored their protests and insisted on covering the best suite and all the meals and parties for them. Steve had even reconnected with an old friend working as a chef at one of the restaurants they visited. Robin assured you that this one was strictly a friend, which somehow made the whole thing even more romantic. Everything was still fresh, but Robin was convinced this could lead somewhere meaningful.

“This place, Fey… have you seen it?” Eddie had murmured, collapsing onto the bed you’d share for the week. “I could write an entire album here. Just give me a pencil, a tape recorder, and lock me in with you.”

He’d reached out, gently tugging you down beside him.

You’d followed naturally, curling up almost on top of him, resting your head on his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re writing in the middle of a huge tour,” you reminded him, tracing slow, idle patterns along his side. Your hand skimmed over the fabric of his Judas Priest shirt, your fingers occasionally catching on the faint ridges of old scars beneath.

“These days are for Garret and Cynthia,” you added softly, not looking up. “Maybe take a little break?”

The rooms in the château were limited. The new owners, who’d taken over in 1992, were still restoring parts of the property, leaving some wings unavailable for guests. That meant sharing rooms was a necessity. The group didn’t mind; they’d once all crammed into Mike’s basement, and nothing could ever be worse than that.

Eddie had kissed the back of your neck in silent acknowledgment before eventually drifting off to sleep. You’d pressed a kiss to his cheek, easing out of bed with practiced care not to wake him.

You wandered through the château’s winding halls until you reached the rear gardens. The courtyard had been restored, and a few gardeners were tending the trees and flowerbeds, giving the space a refreshed glow.

You hugged yourself, taking in the view until Robin’s voice interrupted your reverie. She and Vickie approached, arms wrapped around each other, both smiling as they studied you.

“What?” you asked, noticing the curiosity sparkling in their eyes.

"You look worried. Didn’t Cynthia hire a wedding planner?" Vickie asked, her tone genuinely concerned.

Robin let out a sigh.

"Don’t tell me she roped you into organizing everything?"

You laughed, relaxing your arms.

"Oh, she tried," you said with a half-smile. "But I’m pretty sure I found her a solid planner who’s going to handle all her requests."

Robin let go of Vickie, tilting her head at you.

"Then why do you look like someone peed in your cereal?"

You saw Vickie try to elbow her, but it didn’t seem to faze Robin at all. The two of them stared at you, their curiosity piercing. You hesitated for a few seconds before finally speaking.

"You two work in the music industry, right?" you asked, scratching at your scalp.

"Yeah, well, I’m in music production," Robin started, "and Vickie handles all the boring stuff."

Vickie crossed her arms, her mouth tightening into a silent growl.

"Legal. I handle all the legal stuff," she corrected while Robin nodded and gestured like, Yeah, I said that.

You took a moment, looking down at the ground before meeting their eyes again. "Good enough for me," you admitted, starting to pace. A step here, a step there. "And I’m trusting in the concept of confidentiality—especially from…" you pointed briefly at Vickie, who nodded in understanding.

Stopping in front of them, hands still on your hips, you exhaled sharply. Then, with a slight pout, you finally said it:

"About a month ago, Will Walsh came up to me at Glastonbury…"

Robin’s grin spread like wildfire, sharp and knowing.

"I see you remember that, Robin," you said dryly.

"Of course I do," she shot back, like it was obvious.

"He told me he’s leaving his brother."

Vickie gasped, placing a hand on Robin’s shoulder as if that single motion could communicate a flood of emotion.

"Oh my God," she said first. "Robs…"

"It’s happening," Robin said, nodding, just as shocked. "He’s leaving that jackass!" She spoke with such conviction, closing her eyes like she was savoring the thought.

"The musical balance is finally going to be restored," Vickie said with a smile.

Okay, so clearly they were fans of The Lull, but like the rest of the world, not fans of Freddie Walsh.

"So… back to my story," you teased, amused by their reactions. "Will made me a not-so-tiny offer to become his…"

"MANAGER! YOU’RE GOING TO BE HIS FREAKING MANAGER!" Robin screamed, jumping up and down.

Your eyes widened in panic as you looked around, rushing to cover her mouth. "Vickie, what part of confidentiality did she…? Oh, crap, do these walls echo, or what?"

Vickie massaged Robin’s shoulder casually, smiling.

"Give her a second," she said with a shrug. "It’s the excitement. She has to let it out, or she’ll get migraines, you know?"

Sure enough, Robin’s volume eventually lowered to a more manageable level.

"Muh-muf-tajk-it," she mumbled against your hand. You let go."Take it. Take the job. What are you even talking about? It’s your dream!" Robin exclaimed insistently. "What’s the problem?"

"The problem…" you murmured, looking between them, meeting their eyes in turn. "…is that I haven’t told Eddie. And Will’s business card has been burning a hole in my notebook—and my conscience—for weeks. Eddie keeps asking why I haven’t signed Robert’s new contract, and I haven’t found the right time to tell him. It never feels like the right time."

The three of you fell silent. Robin seemed to be deep in thought, mulling over the best way to respond. Vickie, however, was already smiling, her opinion at the ready.

"Oh, honey," Vickie started gently, "there’s no such thing as the right time. You have to make the time."

Robin nodded. "And it’s not like you’re telling him you’re breaking up with him or that you’ve…"

"I don’t know, caught a rare and deadly disease," Vickie finished, placing her hand over yours. "Sure, it might be a little weird for him at first. Eddie’s pretty competitive when it comes to your…"

"Attention," Robin interjected, clearly finding the right word before Vickie could.

"Yes! Attention. Exactly," Vickie agreed. "And yeah, it might feel a little strange, but if there’s anyone who’s ready to be your biggest fan and see you shine, it’s Eddie. Remember how he reacted at Steve’s party?"

"He was so mad about underestimating your talent and how Robert was overworking you," Robin recalled with a smirk. "He’ll be fine. You just need to tell him."

You nodded, absorbing their advice, and reached a conclusion.

"Maybe not during the wedding, though…"

They nodded in unison.

"Definitely not during the wedding," they agreed.

You smiled. "I’ll tell him after, then. Right? It’s not crazy to say yes to this. Is it?"

"It’s not crazy," Vickie reassured you.

"And I’m not leaving Eddie. I’m just working for someone else, and he’ll understand."

Robin scoffed. "Eddie? Of course."

That evening, dinner was served in an enormous dining hall that had been recently renovated. It was almost too ostentatious—tall ceilings with elaborate frescoes, chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a museum—but you knew it would make for a great story someday, the kind you'd laugh about with friends: "Remember when we had dinner in that over-the-top château?"

The band had asked you to hire cooks for the days they'd be staying, and the château's owners had recommended staff who could help with anything you might need. The meal was lavish, course after course arriving as the sound of conversation and occasional bursts of laughter filled the room.

As you ate, you caught Dustin watching you from across the table. His expression was thoughtful, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

When Eddie leaned over and offered you a taste of his dessert, you didn’t hesitate. You took a small bite from his spoon, then instinctively reached out with a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth. He smiled at you, that genuine, easy smile that lit up his face in a way that still caught you off guard sometimes.

“That,” Dustin said, breaking the moment but not the warmth of it, “is exactly what I was talking about that night by the lake.” His tone was soft, a quiet reflection. “Seeing him like this? It makes me happy. Makes sense, you know?”

Eddie chuckled softly, brushing off Dustin’s sentimental tone, but his hand found yours under the table, squeezing it just enough to make you feel what words couldn’t say.

The sounds of the wedding preparations echoed outside. You and the rest of the girls had gathered in Nancy and Jonathan’s room to get ready. Cynthia had been sweet enough to hire a stylist for herself, her bridesmaids, and all of you, even though she didn’t have to.

As you got dressed and had your makeup done, the girls talked about their dream weddings. Some of them saw it as a distant future; others, like Suzie, felt it was just around the corner—literally. You listened, amused, as they debated everything from family life to the ideal number of kids. Nancy wanted one, citing her career and the importance of giving a child quality attention. Suzie agreed but for simpler reasons; she’d grown up surrounded by siblings and craved personal space.

Robin and Vickie wanted “a ton,” laughing about a rainbow of kids from all walks of life.

You felt a bit out of place in the conversation. You hadn’t thought much about love, let alone a family. But for a moment—just a fleeting second—you pictured yourself in that kind of life.

The revelation hit like a gut punch, leaving you feeling both heavy and hollow. Was it the wedding atmosphere? Or the way Eddie’s face came so vividly to mind in that fleeting fantasy? Whatever it was, it terrified you.

The girls left the room one by one, their black dresses trailing behind them as they headed outside. The groomsmen were supposed to be wearing white, except for Gareth and Cynthia, who stuck to traditional attire.

As you stepped out of the room, you didn’t expect to find Eddie waiting for you.

He was dressed in white too, though his shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and his bow tie hung loose around his neck, giving him that effortlessly cool but maddeningly attractive vibe. His hair had been tied into a neat bun, styled just enough to look intentional while still keeping his edge.

The chain with the ring he always wore dangled from his neck, and his fingers were adorned with his usual array of oversized rings—including the one you’d given him in Denmark.

Your mouth opened, words tumbling out before you could stop them.

"What? Trying to outshine the groom?" you teased, not bothering to hide the fact that you were really looking at him—from his boots to his perfectly tousled hair.

But Eddie stayed quiet, doing the same to you.

It felt like his gaze burned wherever it landed, starting with your black platform boots and slowly trailing up to your exposed shoulders.

You laughed nervously. "What?" you asked again, as if the word could shield you from the intensity of his stare.

Eddie wasn’t going to let it slide. Leaning against the stone wall of the castle’s west wing, he let out an incredulous laugh and shook his head.

“Jesus Christ, Fey,” he muttered, disbelief dripping from his tone. “God…” His eyes lifted to the ceiling, as if pleading to the heavens instead of addressing you. Slowly, his gaze dropped again—fixing on you, then on the gift he’d given you, now draped perfectly on your figure.

“Hurricanes are gonna get their names from you,” he said, dragging his fingers over his mouth like he needed to stop himself from saying more. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your skin prickle as if he were physically touching you.

For a few seconds, silence stretched between you, heavy and electric. Then, as if he couldn’t bear it any longer, Eddie crossed the space and cupped your face, pulling you into a kiss.

You surrendered without hesitation, your body leaning into his like it was second nature. Only when your breath faltered did you manage to break away, gasping for air. Eddie didn’t seem to care. While you caught your breath, his lips continued their exploration—trailing kisses across your jaw and cheek, as if no inch of you could go unacknowledged.

“Munson…” you murmured, his lips dipping to your neck, setting off a rush of warmth that pooled in your core.

This. Wasn’t. Normal.

“Mmm?”

“Mun…” you laughed softly when he kissed the center of your chest, just above the edge of your black dress. His hands pressed into your lower back, pulling you against the cold stone.

“What the hell—” you managed, breathless, as his lips continued their downward path, dangerously close to challenging the fabric separating him from his goal.

“Fey,” he murmured against your skin, his lips returning to your neck like it was home. “Gareth doesn’t need me.”

“You’re his best man,” you reminded him, your voice tinged with both amusement and exasperation.

“He’ll forgive me.—Eventually,” Eddie replied, voice low, his hold on you unyielding.

“Babe, this is one of your best friends’ weddings. It can wait.”

“No, no, no,” he protested, shaking his head. “Fey, this moment—this—is going to slip away, and I can’t let that happen. Not now. Not like this.”

He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze urgent, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“This damn dress. Oh, God,” he groaned, glancing up at the ceiling again like it might save him. “How the hell did I not think this through? You can’t wear that dress and look at me like that. Fey, how do you expect me to stand next to Gareth all night knowing you’re out here looking like trouble?”

You laughed, but it wasn’t all at him. His frustration mirrored your own, though he didn’t seem to realize how much of it you shared.

“It’s not going to slip away,” you reassured him, cupping his face and kissing him softly. “We’ll pick this up later, right where we left off.”

He seemed to understand then, the tension in his frame softening slightly. In the quiet corridor, Eddie pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead—a gesture so reverent it felt like a signature on invisible promises.

With a heavy sigh, he nodded, taking your hand firmly in his. When he finally let you go, it was with clear reluctance. You watched as he returned to the hall, positioning himself beside Big Rock and Jeff, ready to fulfill his role.

The Château stood like a timeless gem in the French countryside, its stone walls bathed in the soft glow of late afternoon sunlight. A long gravel path lined with meticulously trimmed hedges led to the grand entrance, where guests were already gathering. The theme was strikingly unconventional yet undeniably sophisticated—men dressed in pristine white suits, save for Gareth, who stood out in a classic black tuxedo. Women, draped in flowing black gowns of silk and velvet, created an ethereal contrast. Cynthia, radiant and otherworldly, was the exception among them.

Her blonde hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the golden light. Her gown was a dream of white lace and satin, tailored to perfection. The neckline dipped tastefully, and the train swept gracefully behind her as she walked, a vision of timeless elegance. In her hands, she carried a bouquet of pale orchids and roses, a touch of white amidst the dark palette.

The ceremony took place in the château’s rose garden, framed by rows of perfectly pruned hedges and trellises heavy with climbing roses. A soft string quartet played in the background, their music weaving through the gentle murmur of the guests. Garret, standing at the altar beneath a wrought-iron arch adorned with white roses and greenery, could barely hide the emotion in his eyes as Cynthia approached.

The reception was held in the grand ballroom, its walls adorned with intricate carvings and chandeliers dripping with crystal. Long tables covered in white linen and accented with black centerpieces—candles, delicate vases filled with lilies—gave the room a timeless, cinematic charm. Champagne flowed freely as friends and family toasted the couple, their laughter filling the air.

The black-and-white theme extended to every detail—the towering wedding cake was a stunning black fondant masterpiece, adorned with white sugar flowers, and even the dance floor was a checkered marble expanse. As the evening deepened, Cynthia and Garret shared their first dance beneath the glittering chandeliers, their silhouettes perfect contrasts against the black-and-white backdrop.

It was a wedding for the ages, unforgettable in its bold elegance and the palpable love that filled every corner of the château.

Eddie’s eyes were on you throughout the entire ceremony—those deep brown eyes locked on yours, intense, as if silently repeating the promise you’d made to each other earlier. You felt it low in your stomach, a warmth building with every glance. There was no way you’d make it through the night without Eddie’s hands on every inch of you. You knew it. You felt it. And at this point, you didn’t care—you wanted it. That desire felt amazing, not obscene or easy to dismiss, and you both seemed to agree. You prolonged the feeling as much as possible: through dinner, the toasts, the cake, and the dance floor.

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom,” Eddie announced, his breath warm against your neck as he pulled his hands away from your waist.

“Come on, Munson!” Steve groaned from his spot on the dance floor, arms wrapped around her famous friend you’d barely had the chance to greet before the ceremony started.

“I’ll be back,” Eddie called over the music, leaning in to kiss you quickly before walking away.

Max and Jane pulled you to the dance floor, urging you to join them. You’d kicked off your platform boots, dancing barefoot now, the cool tiles grounding you as you twirled and swayed. You barely felt your feet, but you wouldn’t stop until the celebration officially ended and everyone had retired to their rooms. Two more songs passed, and Eddie still hadn’t returned. A flicker of worry crept in—you imagined him a little too drunk, lost somewhere in the château’s half-renovated wing, buried under scaffolding and rubble.

When you finally found him, of course, it wasn’t at all what you’d expected. That conversation you’d planned to have after the wedding? It had come early.

You didnt' plan to throw it at him like this. Not in the quiet tension of that room in that dark and big castle. Not in the middle of a wedding.

“Feywild,” Eddie’s voice cut through your thoughts like a jagged blade, pulling you back into the present. You turned toward him, only to meet the weight of his accusing glare. In his hand was Will Walsh’s business card, the number you’d tucked away scrawled across the back like a secret exposed. “Why the hell do you have Will’s personal number in your planner?”

The air between you felt electric, suffocating. You frowned, struggling to suppress the unease crawling up your spine.

“Sounds like you think I shouldn’t,” you murmured, stepping closer. The ache in your chest deepened as you kicked off your black boots, their heavy thud lost in the charged silence. Reaching for the planner in his hands, you tried to keep your voice steady. “What is this, some kind of rule now?”

His eyes didn’t soften—if anything, they darkened, sharp as broken glass. “You know that’s not what I’m asking, Fey,” he said tightly, his jaw twitching with the effort to hold himself together. “I just... I thought you said you weren’t taking that offer, that Freddie was a walking disaster. So why the fuck keep Will’s number if you’re not planning to take the job?”

You felt your pulse quicken as his words lingered in the air, heavy with unspoken accusations. Your tongue darted over your dry lips, a nervous reflex, and you reached out to pluck the card from his grasp. It felt flimsy in your fingers, weightless compared to the storm brewing in the room.

“I wasn’t gonna talk about this until after the wedding,” you admitted softly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. Your voice wavered, and you hated the vulnerability it betrayed. “Will’s leaving his brother to go solo, and he—he offered…”

“You’re leaving me for Will Walsh?” Eddie’s voice cracked, and for a fleeting moment, the sharp edge of anger faltered, replaced by something raw and pained. It hit you like a punch to the gut.

“Are you joking? No,” you said quickly, though your heart clenched at the disbelief etched across his face. “I’m not leaving you. I meant the job—he asked me to be his manager.”

The words hung in the air, but they didn’t seem to reach him. His jaw tightened, and his gaze flickered away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. When he spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “And when exactly did you decide this?”

The question felt like a blade, twisting. You could feel the weight of his disappointment, the unspoken hurt laced into every syllable. It wasn’t fair. His gaze, searching and relentless, bore into you, and you felt a flush of heat rise to your face.

“I haven’t decided anything yet,” you replied carefully. “I’ve been weighing the pros and cons, that’s all.”

Eddie let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp enough to make your chest ache. “Nah, Fey. You decided the second he gave you the offer. Otherwise, why haven’t you signed the contract Robert sent you? Huh?”

The question came like a slap, and for a moment, you just stared at him, stunned. Blinking rapidly, you felt the sting of unshed tears. “I haven’t signed anything because I’m still figuring things out! Why would I sign something if I’m not sure yet?”

“How long has this been on the table?” he pressed, his tone sharp enough to cut. There was a challenge in his voice, a dare for you to lie. But you didn’t.

You sucked in a breath, the admission sticking in your throat. “Since Glastonbury,” you finally confessed, your voice barely audible.

Eddie’s laugh was humorless, his smile a mere shadow of something real. “Since fucking Glastonbury?” he repeated, and the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. “And you couldn’t find a single damn moment to tell me? Why the hell did you hide it, Fey?”

Your heart twisted painfully at the look in his eyes—an agonizing blend of betrayal and disbelief. “Because I knew you’d react like this!” you shot back, the words escaping before you could stop them.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m betraying you!”

Eddie’s hand shot out to point at your planner, his voice rising with every word.

“And keeping it from me isn’t betrayal?” he snapped. “Will Walsh, Fey. Will freaking Walsh.”

“I thought the problem was Freddie, not Will,” you countered, your own voice beginning to rise.

“It’s all the same!” Eddie shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his anger. “You’re leaving me for Will Walsh.”

The accusation sent a wave of frustration surging through you, and you rolled your eyes, the motion as sharp and deliberate as your words. “So this isn’t about when I chose to tell you, is it? It’s about me working for someone else.” Your voice trembled with the effort to keep your emotions in check, but there was no mistaking the bite behind your words. “See? I knew it. This is exactly why I said we needed to keep work and our relationship separate—to avoid this. And now, you’re being completely fucking unfair.”

“Unfair?” Eddie barked out a bitter laugh, the sound so cold it sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes burned with something darker now—something dangerous.

“Yes, unfair!” you shot back, your frustration spilling over. “You were the one who got drunk at that party and told me I deserved more than this job. So why is it, the moment I get an opportunity that matches my skills, you take it so personally?” You crossed your arms, a defiant gesture, as your voice rose in pitch and intensity. “What is it, Eddie? Do you actually want me here because you love me, or because you’re so used to me saving your ass you don’t know how to live without it?”

The words hung in the air like a challenge, and for a moment, Eddie just stared at you, his lips parted like he wanted to respond but couldn’t find the words. His silence only stoked the fire inside you.

“Fey, I’m warning you. Don’t start throwing accusations at me—”

“No, no. Don’t you dare turn this around on me,” you cut him off, your anger surging like a tidal wave. “You’re the one who started with the accusations. I get it, maybe I should’ve told you sooner, but your reaction is so completely over the top. I’m not fucking leaving you, Eddie! I promised I wouldn’t, and I’m not. I’m just changing jobs. Is that really so goddamn horrible?”

“Yeah, it is,” he shot back, his voice trembling with emotion. His hand gripped the back of a chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white. “Will’s going solo. He’s gonna be neck-deep in backlash from his brother’s fans, and you think you’ll have time for a relationship? You’ll be launching your career just like he’s launching his.”

“And what?” you challenged, stepping closer. “I’m supposed to give up on my dreams because you’re scared we won’t spend enough time together? Your tour ends in a couple of months. We’ll make it work. We’ll adapt.”

Eddie started shaking his head before you even finished, his curls bouncing with the movement. His disbelief was almost palpable, and it was like you’d been stabbed.

“For fuck’s sake, Munson!” you burst out, throwing your hands in the air. “Do you even realize how happy it makes me to see you succeeding? So why the hell can’t I expect the same from you? I don’t want to walk behind you, Eddie. I want to walk beside you. Can’t you see that?”

For a moment, his gaze dropped to the floor, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but heavy, weighted with resignation. “You won’t be walking beside me, Fey. You’ll be walking away. You’re leaving.”

You let out a hollow, bitter laugh, the sound echoing in the small space. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut—he wasn’t speaking as your boyfriend anymore. This was your boss talking now.

“I can train someone else,” you offered, though the words tasted sour on your tongue.

“Not in the middle of a world tour! Are you insane? Do you really think anyone could fill your fucking shoes?”

You shook your head, trying to keep your voice steady. “I was hired because you couldn’t stay out of trouble. But since we landed in Europe, you’ve been focused. No incidents, no drama. You don’t need me, Eddie. Not anymore.”

He stared at you, and in that moment, the raw hurt in his eyes nearly undid you. “You always wanted to leave, didn’t you?” he said quietly, his voice shaking with barely contained emotion. “Admit it. You’ve had one foot out the door since the moment you realized your heart was involved.”

The accusation hit like a slap, and you felt your chest tighten as you fought back the tears welling in your eyes. “And what about you, Munson?” you shot back, your voice breaking. “You’re so scared of being abandoned that you can’t love me the way I deserve. You’re so wrapped up in your own feelings, you don’t even see mine. What am I to you, Eddie? Your safety net? Your little fairy, flitting around to make your life easier?”

“Fey…” His voice cracked, and you saw the tears in his eyes, but they weren’t sadness—they were fury, a storm you weren’t sure either of you could weather.

“Don’t call me that,” you whispered, stepping back as he reached for you. The distance felt unbearable, but you couldn’t let him close the gap—not this time.

“Don’t go, Fey,” he pleaded, his voice breaking.

Your chin trembled, and for a moment, you hated how fragile you felt under his gaze. “This was a mistake. We were never ready for this. You need me more than you love me, and I love you more than I need you.” Your fingers brushed over his as you took his hand from your face, the cool metal of his rings grounding you for a fleeting second. “I quit, Munson,” you said firmly. “And this... us... it’s over. We don’t know how to make this work, and if we keep trying, we’ll destroy each other.”

“You’re fucking running away, Feywild,” he accused, his voice raw with desperation.

You nodded, tears finally spilling over as your heart shattered. “Yeah. And you’re scared, Eddie. We’re both just doing what we have to to survive.”

[storiesaplenty]

Jelly Bracelets (13) (18+)

Eddie Munson x f/Reader

Jelly Bracelets Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though.

Warnings: swearing. Oral (m and f receiving) 69 position. Pussy fingering. Clit sucking. Ball playing. Cum swallowing.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me: 1st gif @depressedbagpipe

WC: 1342

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: Do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Glittery Green - the wearer is willing to "69"

Eddie Munson may be the freak of Hawkins, but he is your best friend. Who is always willing to teach you new things, even when you get new bracelets from your cousin. Eddie will even go as far as teaching & showing you what each one means.

Eddie Munson's Pov:

I actually cleaned up the place.

I mean, a proper cleaning.

Scrubbing down the counters, moving the cushions from the sofa and vacuuming there.

Even changing my bed sheets and pillow cases.

I have no idea what is going to happen tonight, as she still has three bracelets left.

I gulped just thinking about what is left, and if she will even do the one I am keeping for last.

My thoughts were pulled by the knock on the door.

She is early.

Fuck.

Of course she is.

If she is on time, she considers that late.

I opened the door and to my suprise, there was Henderson.

"Don't have time for you tonight." I told him.

"Come on man, let's go out. I know you haven't been out a bit." He held up a $20.00 bill, and I was about to ask him where he got that much, but I could see her car turning into the park.

"Get out of here. I have plans." I shooed him away towards Max's trailer.

"Why are you trying to get rid of me so bad?" He asked me, confused, until he heard the sound of the car door closing shut.

He turned his head and saw who it was, then looking back at me, one eyebrow raised.

"I see. Have a good night with your girlfriend." The little shit smirked as he walked back to Max's place.

I noticed that he wasn't the only one there with her, and I was going to call out and say she isn't my girlfriend, when she is now standing in front of me.

"Hey Eddie." She said to me with a soft smile on her face.

"You look good sweetheart." I looked her up and down. Her hair was down, with a bit of makeup on.

Her hands smoothed down her skirt, and she was wearing a Hellfire Club shirt.

One of my spare ones that I gave her.

"You going to let me in?" She asked as I am blocking the door.

I scoffed and stepped to the side, bowing to her dramatically as she walked past, me catching a wiff of her perfume.

I closed the door behind her, not even to bother to look back at the teens that were watching the two of us.

Already knowing that Henderson has a smirk on his face.

"Did you clean?" She asked as she looked around.

"Yeah, I time to spare." I said, acting like I wasn't nervous inside.

"Eddie, it is just me." She said to me as she looked at me.

"And that is why I cleaned." I told her as she took the few steps towards me, placing her hand on my chest.

I couldn't help myself as I placed my hand at the nape of her neck and leaned down to kiss her, gently.

This didn't feel rushed as I deepened the kiss, her arms wrapping around my neck to bring us even closer.

The two of us standing there, making out in the kitchen of the trailer.

My hands left her neck and started to trail down her body, until my hands were cupping her ass, pulling her lower body closer to mine, making her gasp at how hard I am for her.

Only for her.

"You see what you do to me? Always have." I muttered against her lips, but I don't think she heard me, as when I pulled my head back, her eyes were already but glazed.

"Want you Eddie." She whined.

I ran my thumb across her cheek and then placed it on her bottom lip.

She wrapped her lips around my thumb and started to suck, making my cock twitch in my jeans.

Instant flashes of her sucking my cock came to mind, and I groaned at the thought of her sucking me off again.

"You will have me sweet girl, but for now, why don't we help one another out in a different way."

My other hand snapped the lone bracelet on her right arm, as the other two are on the left.

I held it up for her to see.

Glittery Green, 69.

She let go of my thumb with a pop.

"I have never done that before. Eddie."

"Neither have I. We can learn together."

♣︎

I grabbed her hand and gently pulled her down the hall towards my room, already knowing that this is one step closer to us actually sleeping with one another.

◆

Her and I slowly took off eachother clothes, our lips barely leaving one another unless we had too.

I laid on my bed, my back flat against the mattress.

I grabbed her hand and helped her climb over me, her head facing my feet.

She is hovering over me, as I grabbed her hips.

"Sit on my face. I won't die." Was all I said before I pulled her hips down, and gently licked her pussy up and down, making her gasp out my name.

She placed her hands on my thighs as she leaned down to take my cock in her mouth.

I groaned against her pussy, as she took more of me into her mouth.

"That's it baby. Just like that. Damn." I groaned against her as I placed two fingers on her pussy, and spread it, burying my face even closer in her pussy.

I couldn't help myself as I raised my hips, forcing another inch or two down her throat, making her gag around my cock.

I inserted one finger, then another one, all the while still eating her out.

She ground her hips against my fingers and face, clearly enjoying what I am doing to her.

Her hand was at the base of my cock, twisting and jerking me off every single time she slowly brought her mouth up.

She is making me lose my mind as I have dreamt about this more times that I will ever admit.

"Eddie." She pulled her mouth away from my cock, her hand still jerking me off.

"Tell me what you need." I said, as I wrapped my lips around her clit, and sucked.

She let out a long drawn out moan at that.

"Add another." She finally said.

"Oh you want another. I got you." I inserted another finger, groaning against her pussy at how tight she felt wrapped around my three fingers as I fingered her and ate her out.

My cock is back down her throat, and I knew I was going to last much longer.

I sped up my fingers and wrapped my lips around her clit one final time, and sucked, hard.

She moaned around my cock as she ground her pussy against my mouth as her juices soaked my face.

I am loving every single second of this, and then her hand cupped my balls and pulled on them gently, and I couldn't hold back anymore.

I groaned, loudly as I came.

Her mouth wrapped around the tip as she swallowed quickly.

Her other hand was jerking me off, trying to get every last drop of me.

"Fuck." I groaned as I pulled my mouth from her pussy, leisurely fingering her still as she pulled her mouth away and her hands.

She pulled away from me, and I couldn't help but look her up and down once again, this time taking in her naked body.

"Eddie..." Her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Kind of hungry." I snorted when she said that, already knowing she hasn't ate since this afternoon.

"I'll make us some spaghetti." I said to her, already feeling hungry as well.

She got dressed before me, and I was sitting on the side of my bed, just pulling on my jeans when she spoke up.

"Eddie. I will be staying the night."

I looked up at her, and she was staring intently back at me. I caught on to what she was meaning.

"If you are sure." I said.

"I have never been more sure about anything."

"Okay sweetheart. Let's get you fed." I teased.

Red (18+) ♥︎ Black (18+) - coming soon

[fairylights-throughthemist]

I dreamt about Eddie can I go back to sleep please

[jqmalikhsgib]

planets aligned

three

trigger warning: mention of self harm

it’s been three months. three incredible, amazing, beautiful, months since you’ve met eddie. you enjoyed every second of your time with eddie. he was sweet, charming, respectful, and caring. he made you laugh like no one else could. for the last three months the two of you gotten to know each other.

you both decided to keep things low key. with the beginning of a relationship being so fragile, you didn’t want anyone to fuck it up. you both knew how crazy your fans could get. you didn’t want to risk losing each other. but not telling people went beyond just your fans. eddie decided he wasn’t ready for his daughter to know and you weren’t ready for fariah to know.

but after three months, eddie thought telling his daughter was the right time. he wanted the two most important women in his life to get to know each other. with his daughter already being a fan of yours, he knew she’d be excited.

what he wasn’t expecting was her high pitch scream to nearly burst his eardrum.

“oh, ry! way to bust your old man’s ear drums?”

“sorry, daddy! it’s just, you’re dating yn. the yn? she’s been my idol for years now. how long have you been seeing her?”

“just a few months now. listen, i really want you to me her.”

rylee squeals. “when?! god tell me it’s soon. where would we go? what would we do? what should i wear? daddy, you have to take me shopping before meeting her. i can’t believe im gonna meet yn.”

eddie playfully rolls his eyes as his daughter start to ramble. she was just like eddie in so many ways but had her moms looks.

“slow down, ry! remember she’s a person, okay? don’t go scaring her off, yeah?” eddie jokes. rylee rolls her eyes at her father.

the next day you came over. knocking on the door nervously, eddie greets you with a smile. he moves out of the way to let you in.

eddie could tell you were nervous. he gently caresses your cheek before kissing you softly. “everything’s gonna be fine, baby. i promise she’s gonna love you!”

a few minutes later you see eddie’s daughter coming down the steps. she was wearing a t shirt from one of your collections. eddie groaned at his daughter as she steps in front of you guys. “i thought i told you not to treat her differently. what’s with the shirt?”

you shake your head. “it’s cool! it’s one of my favorites i designed believe it or not.”

“yn is in my living room! daddy, yn is in our living room! you’re so cool. why are you dating my father?”

“hey! i have you know young lady i am one of the hottest metal artist known to man.”

you laugh.

“not hot enough to date the yn, dad! i mean, she is perfect. im sorry. normally i am not like this around other celebrities. but you’re my idol. you’re so pretty, kind, sweet, and you’re an inspiration. i have always loved how inclusive you are and how you’re not afraid to tell people off. i know im rambling but i struggled with the way i looked for so long. been bullied, picked on, torn down so many times. when you came out i finally became more confident and started defending myself.”

“baby, it’s okay.”

eddie knew his daughter only rambled this much when she was having a lot of feelings.

“thanks, daddy. sorry again yn.”

“no, it’s cool! im glad i helped you build confidence. means a lot. that’s all ive ever wanted to do for others.”

the three of you enjoy each other company. soon you had dinner together and you got to know rylee better. eddie was happy his girls were getting along. seeing you with rylee made him feel like she could finally be happy again. it made him feel like he can give her a family.

rylee was eight when her mother died. she was young but had a little understanding that her mother was gone. eddie hated seeing his little girl live without her mom.

when rylee was thirteen she showed signs of depression. eddie didn’t know how bad it was until he saw the scares on her arm. he cried with his daughter in his arms as she explained how she was being bullied and how cruel a lot of the kids were being. eddie hated seeing his little girl go through so much hurt. it made him wish bri was still alive. she would know what to do, what to say, how to handle the situation.

it was only so much eddie could do. he felt like he was failing his daughter. over the next few months, after finding rylee someone to talk to and getting her the hell out of that fucked up preppy school filled with rich prick children that never had to work in their lives and posh ass parents, eddie noticed a change in rylee.

she was happier. eddie assumed it was therapy. but she started mentioning you. going on and on about this new model who was a huge advocate on mental health and loving yourself. rylee adored you. you had helped her find herself and even helped her stand up for herself. she went out to buy posters of you, books you’ve written, and adored your clothing line. you were a huge inspiration to her.

two years later, at the age of fifteen, rylee still adored you. you saved his little girls life. meeting you was a happy accident. he wasn’t expecting to fall for you so quickly. seeing you here with his daughter, seeing her smiling, laughing, and enjoying her time with you, it only made his heart grow fonder for you.

once you all were finished with dinner, you helped eddie clean up. once the two of you finished he wraps his arms around your waist. he kisses the side of your head. you smile lovingly before turning around to face him.

“do you think she likes me? not just as yn but as, whatever this is.”

eddie chuckles. “first, she adores you. i never seen her so happy. she really enjoyed getting to know you better. and secondly, this is what you call a relationship, baby. you and i, me and you. together.”

“does that make you my boyfriend?”

eddie winced. “im a forty-two year old man, baby. calling you my girlfriend feels premature.”

you laugh. “so what would you call this?”

“id like to call you my life long partner. someone i want to spend the rest of my life with someday. my love, my heart, my soul.”

“yeah?” you asked shyly.

“mhm. what do you say? want to be stuck with this old man forever?”

“id like that very much, eds.”

“good! ill go buy a ring.”

you laugh thinking he was joking until he shakes his head and caresses your cheek. “‘m serious, baby.”

“eddie, you’re not proposing for real are you?”

“if i am?”

“ill be very pissed at you! you cannot propose to me looking like this. i look a mess eddie! im wearing one of your t shirt, a hair scarf, and my nails aren’t done!”

eddie lets out a breath before laughing. “who fucking cares, baby. i think you look fantastic, yeah? come on! we can fly to vegas right now. grab rylee and get married.”

“eds! my parents will be pissed if i marry someone without planning a wedding and going all out.”

“who gives a shit! we can plan a big wedding another time. come on, let’s go get married. remember, i told you im a live in the moment, carpe diem! come on, baby.”

you bite the bottom of your lip. “ill have to go home and pack.”

“okay.”

“and i want a nice dress. not too flashy! let’s save that for the big wedding.”

“sure.”

“okay.”

“okay?!”

“okay! let’s get married.”

eddie picks you up and spins you around. he runs upstairs to go tell his daughter the news while you text fariah, letting her know you’re gonna be gone for a little bit. you hear rylee screaming before she sprinted downstairs to you.

“tell me my dads not taking the piss out of me. are we all going to vegas right now? are you about to marry my dad?!”

“yes. are you okay with this? because if you—”

“you’re shitting right?! this is the best news ever! you’re gonna be my step mom. holy, fuck! yn yln is gonna be my step mom! i gotta go pack.”

eddie walks over to you with a suitcase. your eyes widened. “you packed fast!”

“technically i packed two weeks ago.”

“what?”

eddie starts opening his suitcase. “you know how i said we should go ring shopping earlier? well, i kind of did already, baby. i saw this ring two weeks ago and knew. i had to ask you to marry me immediately.”

eddie pulls out the most beautiful engagement ring you’ve seen. you hold out your hand and he puts it on your ring finger.

“oh, eds! it’s beautiful.” eddie kisses you passionately. you wrap your arms behind his shoulders, kissing back with equal passion.

“are we ready to do?!”

the two of you pull away from one another before eddie hums. “just one more stop. then we can buy everything there before we get married!”

“lets go!”

eddie grabs your hand as his daughter walks in front of you. you were about to marry eddie munson in just a few short hours.

[ashwhowrites]

Man I always have the best ideas for your requests and then the moment I see they’re open it’s like no thoughts only smooth brain.

Can I request where reader is friends with both Eddie and Steve, they become a little trio. Reader is attracted to both of them but keeps it secret because she doesn’t want to mess up the dynamic, doesn’t know how she’d pick when she loves them both. Eddie and Steve both really like her but their situation is complicated. They’ve been secretly together for a little bit but both agree they want reader. It’s just how do you spring that on someone and if they refuse not make everything weird? (Plus, people are really judgmental about same sex dating and alternative dating etc.) They both actively flirt with her, treat her right, they think they’ll actually reveal if she confesses to liking one of them. They all go out together as they normally do but there is a lot more teasing flirting from both boys to her. She says goodbye to them at the end of the night but is so keyed up from the flirting and what not she has to have an answer. She is intent on telling them that she likes them both and doesn’t know what to do. Except She catches them messing around? (Cause obviously they liked the flirting a lot too.) She’s super embarrassed and lowkey a little sad that they kept the relationship from her and that if they’re together they won’t want to be with her. But then Eddie and Steve confess and happy fluffy sexy ending.

Thank youuuuuu I love you mwah

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

⚠️little bit of smut

Flirting game

Y/N dreamed about the day she'd fall in love ever since she was young, how her heart would race from eye contact and plan a future by their side. She didn't expect how hard it would be to be in love with two different people.

Y/N, Steve, and Eddie had been close friends and didn't spend much time apart. It was easy for them to get along, and they barely had boundaries. Everything in their life was shared and secrets didn't exist. Well, that was a small lie.

Y/N was head over heels for Steve. She felt it was obvious since she could never keep her cool around him. She craved to run her hands through his hair, feeling how soft and silky it was. His sweet compliments paired with his smile made her stomach do flips. He was softer than Eddie, offering a comforting shoulder. He listened to all her feelings and made her feel accepted.

To make it more complicated, she was in love with Eddie too. His long hair and boyish charm never failed to make her heart race. His dirty jokes warmed her cheeks. His rough exterior always had her attention and she wanted his attention on her.

She felt tugged between the two. Steve pulled one arm and Eddie pulled the other, and she wasn't sure who she wanted to win. Her plan was to suffer in silence until one of them made a move, but one night got too hard to walk away from.

~

"Steve this place is amazing," Y/N said in awe as she walked around Steve's newly owned apartment. Eddie nodded as he sipped on his can of beer, walking behind her.

Steve smiled as he handed her a glass of wine. "Thank you, there's one place I want you to see." Y/N was intrigued, blushing to herself when Steve ran his fingers down her arm and moved to hold her hand. Eddie smirked as he stood behind, sharing a look with Steve.

Y/N let Steve lead her blindly, enjoying the feeling of his hand in hers. Steve walked her down the hall and stopped, a smirk on his face as he opened the door.

She looked in the room, expecting something exciting but all she saw was a bed and boxes. "What is it?" she asked, not understanding what he wanted to show her.

"It's my bedroom," Steve said, his hand still in hers. She looked at him confused, and then she felt Eddie's body pressed against her back. She held her breath as he moved his nose against her neck, her eyes locked on Steve.

"You know what happens in a bedroom right, baby girl?" Eddie whispered into her ear. She tried to cover the fact that her insides were burning as she stood between them. Steve moved closer until his body crashed against hers.

"Don't look so scared, love," Steve chuckled, pushing up her head as he placed a finger under her chin, "The bedroom is for sleeping." Eddie and Steve moved away at the same time, allowing air to move through her lungs. Their touch was gone and she felt cold air wash over her. She stood in shock and confusion as the boys walked down the hall. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out what happened.

"Coming?" Eddie asked from down the hall. She turned around and nodded, quickly walking towards him.

They worked on putting away boxes for the next few hours. Steve's apartment slowly came together as more drinks were shared. Building up an appetite, Steve ordered pizzas declaring they'd take a break for food.

"Since I have no table, the floor it is!" Steve said cheerfully as he sat on the ground. Y/N held her third glass of wine as she took the spot across from him, and then Eddie joined after. Steve and Eddie's knees touched and Eddie's knee touched hers, all connected in a way.

They talked among themselves as they ate. Y/N listened closely as Steve talked, watching his lips form the words. She was so zoned in on him that she didn't realize she dripped sauce down her chin, but Eddie noticed.

When Steve finished his sentence, Eddie reached over gaining her attention when he swiped his thumb over her chin. She jolted in surprise, her eyes on Eddie as he cleaned up the sauce. She was stunned by the small intimate touch, staring in awe when Eddie slipped his sauced thumb into his mouth. He soaked in her stare, giving her a wink. She quickly looked away, gulping down the rest of her wine.

Eddie excused himself to the bathroom and Y/N breathed a sigh of relief. With her body warm and brain in overdrive, she stood up to grab water from the kitchen.

Steve followed, walking quietly enough that she didn't know he was there. She opened the fridge and let the cold plastic soak into her skin. She took a few sips as she calmed herself down. She turned around and her back was pressed against the fridge. Steve looked down at her with a smile, loving the way her breathing picked up.

"Are you feeling okay? You look a bit warm," Steve said reaching his hand out and pressing it against her forehead.

"Um, yeah. I think I need some rest, though," she said, needing a break from the way these boys were throwing her around. Steve clicked his tongue, and his hand moved down to her neck. She held her breath as he leaned in, his face inches from hers. She couldn't help but look down at his lips, wanting to lean in. Steve's lips formed into a smirk, and he backed away, his touch no longer lingering on her skin.

"Do you need a ride?"

"No!" Y/N knew she wasn't going to survive a car ride with him. "I can drive."

She grabbed her keys and practically ran to the door, saying goodbye to Eddie as he approached.

"She's leaving?" Eddie asked, watching as the door closed.

"Yep. But I think our plan is working," Steve smiled walking over to Eddie.

"Then why won't she just admit something?" Eddie groaned. It's been months of the cat-and-mouse game, and he wanted it to end.

Steve wrapped his arm around Eddie's slim waist, bringing the boy against his chest. "She will, I know she will." Eddie rolled his eyes as he lost patience.

"In the meantime, we can enjoy what the little show does to us," Steve flirted, placing a hand on Eddie's chest. Eddie smirked as Steve's hand slid down his body, landing on the button of his jeans.

"Yeah? Turns you on working her up like that?" Eddie teased. Steve unbuttoned his jeans, sliding his hand inside. Eddie shivered as Steve teased him over his boxers, the touch setting him on fire.

Steve pressed his lips against Eddie's, moving his hand inside Eddie's boxers to wrap around his cock. Eddie moaned into his mouth, diving his hands into Steve's hair. Eddie slid his tongue into Steve's mouth, their tongues massaging against each other. Steve moved his hand up and down on Eddie's cock, twisting near his tip forcing his pre cum to drip out. Steve smeared the pre cum along Eddie's length, using it to help jerk him off.

~

Y/N was halfway home when she turned around. The heat between her legs reminded her how badly she wanted them. Even though she was scared as hell to tell them the truth, she made her way back to Steve's.

Her head was all over the place and she had no idea what she would say but kept moving forward. She dug out the spare key Steve gave her and let herself in. The house seemed empty but she knew they were there somewhere.

She walked down the hall towards the bedroom, freezing when she heard the sound of moans. She gulped as she went to step back, not wanting to intrude on Steve's private time. But a part of her wanted to see, she wanted to see Steve moaning out curious of what was making him feel so good. She stepped forward, peeking her head in the open doorframe.

Eddie and Steve were naked and tangled in Steve's sheets. Their naked chests pressed against each other as Steve pushed himself in and out of Eddie. Their moans meet each other in the air between them. Y/N stood in shock. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She never thought anything was going on between them, hell she didn't even know they were gay. She felt hurt that they kept this from her and that her feelings didn't matter anymore.

She turned to sneak out but her step caused a loud creek to echo throughout the hallway. The boys froze and looked towards the door, catching Y/N's stunned expression. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Then she booked it, running down the hall. Steve and Eddie called out to her, quickly scrambling out of bed and throwing on their underwear as they ran after her.

By the time they reached her, she was staring at the door, trying to decide whether she wanted to leave.

"Y/N..."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let myself in," she apologized. She turned around and took them in. Their sex hair, Eddie's marked chest, and Steve's bruised lips.

"It's okay," Steve coughed, "can we talk about what you saw?"

Y/N nodded and hugged herself. "Are you guys...together?"

"Yeah, for almost four months now," Eddie answered.

"Four months?" She screeched, she dropped her arms in shock. "Why didn't you guys tell me? Did you think I wouldn't accept you?" She accused.

"NO!" Steve rushed, "It's just we are so used to hiding so we hide from everyone."

"So was all the flirting to throw me off? Make sure I believe you're straight? Because that's fucking shitty! You played with my feelings!" Y/N cried, getting so frustrated that tears began to fly down her cheeks.

"No, baby. It is nothing like that," Eddie said softly. He slowly walked up to her, and she allowed him to touch her arm. "We weren't playing with your feelings or using you. We meant the flirting, we were hoping if we made advances towards you that you would tell us how you felt about us."

"How I feel about yo-ouu...b-both?" she stuttered. Did they already know? She looked between the two with fear in her eyes.

"We are both interested in you. We both have strong feelings for you." Steve confessed. Y/N was stunned by their confession. All the time she hoped they'd look her way, and they truly were.

"What do you feel about us?" Eddie asked, leaning closer to the shaky girl. He smiled as he cupped her cheek, landing a soft kiss on her cheek. "Just tell us," he whispered, his lips leading down to her neck.

She gasped in pleasure, and her eyes met Steve over Eddie's shoulder. Eddie continued to kiss her neck as Steve stared into her eyes.

"I want to be with both of you," she moaned out, Eddie's teeth sinking into her neck. Steve smiled at the confession and walked towards them. He walked around her, his naked chest to her back as he pressed his lips to the open side of her neck.

Y/N shivered as both of their lips pressed against her skin, her eyes closing as their hands began to work up and down her body.

"Let us show you how much we want you," Eddie whispered.

"Please," she moaned.

"Our pleasure, baby girl," Steve whispered against her skin.

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123 @emxxblog

[summermp3]

"𝖨'𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇" (𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇!𝖾𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

→ in which you and Eddie become rivals after an illegal street race led to you breaking an arm and being locked up for a few months, what happens when he see's you again at one of the biggest races of his life?

Chapter two: DAY TWO

→ wordcount: 1.7k

→ warnings: Strong language, past childhood trauma, parental abuse, reader goes to prison for a little, reader crashes on her motorcycle, eventual smut, minors dni

→ Pairings: modern!streetracer!eddie x streetracer!fem!reader

lowkey boring chapter..

← Previous — Next →

At first, you wake up in a cold sweat. Your eyes dart around to get your eyes to focus on anything that will help ground you from the nightmare, they find a glowing red alarm clock the numbers read; 1:21am. The couch had begun to feel. not so comfortable throughout the night, but Eddie had offered you to stay with him regardless of knowing you for less than a few hours.

So you weren't about to complain.

You had tried getting to sleep again, but after tossing and turning and sighing after the way your back felt for about ten minutes. After a while, you just gave up on your rest and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen instead.

The floor creaked under the sudden pressure and at first, you thought it might've woke Eddie from his own sleep.

Fortunately, there were no signs of an awake Eddie Munson.

The tap water filled in for all the liquid you lost in the night, you now also realize that you could probably see through your shirt. Your feet carried you towards all the figurines on the shelves of the living room, various dungeons and dragons characters, and what you assumed was Lord of the Rings.

They were cute items, and as you picked one off the shelf you began to think how much he spent on an item like this.

"Put. that. down." His croaky voice had scared you so hard, you almost dropped his figure in your clammy hand.

"God...Edd—wait—do you have spidey senses or something, how did you know I was touching your shit." Slowly and carefully, you put his belongings down back on the shelf with all the others.

“My hands start tingling when people touch my stuff." He joked, only then did you take in his appearance.

Curly brown hair in a ponytail, baggy pants, and a tank top that was much too short...it showed a lot to the imagination.

You turn away.

"Couch isn't all that comfortable is it." Was he a mind reader or something? "I've spent a few nights there" he adds.

"It's better than what I'm used to lately, I'm really not in a position to complain." You reassured, turning back around to face him.

"Now...why are your clothes wet?" He rubs his eyes in case he's seeing what isn't there, however...

Your shirt was indeed showing more than you thought earlier, now your chest was almost on full display. "Sweat, it's kinda hot in here." You lie, crossing your arms over your chest to hide your breasts from showing even more. "It's lukewarm at most." He argues, pulling up his arms to show zero pit stains on his body.

"Maybe I have overreacting sweat glands."

"I love how you have excuses for everything, really makes these interactions between us more enjoyable." Eddie walks past, ever so slightly accidentally brushing his hand against yours as he shimmers past the small space to get behind you to the kitchen "I don't have excuses, just...it's...difficult." You sigh, sitting back on the uncomfortable couch.

"I figured that, by the way, you haven't told me anything about you. I took an estranged woman home after meeting her at a bar...For all I know, you might kill me." He grins, taking a cigarette off the marble kitchen counter.

"Mhm, very possible. I'd watch out if I were you. I'm known for being very 'dangerous'" You smile using your fingers for quotation marks.

Ring

Ring

Ring

"That must be your phone." He yawns, pointing to where your phone sat on the coffee table screen down, meaning neither of you had any way of knowing who exactly was calling.

Regardless of how long it rang, you ignored it.

"Avoiding someone?" He sits down next to you on the couch, leaning back on the couch pillows opposite you. "I avoid someone? That doesn't sound like me at all! I'm just talking to my new best friend Eddie...right?" He stares ahead into your eyes.

"Best friend hm? Here I was thinking I actually meant something to you." He passes you the freshly lit cigarette as he goes to open a window nearby. "Oh yeah, you mean everything to me. I love it when they've known me for less than 24 hours, it really gets me going" you joke, speaking seductively.

"Good to know" he smiles and you swear you see his tongue hiding behind his teeth "Now don't kill me, but I do actually have a spare bedroom" Your eyes widen. "You have a spare room and you let me sleep on your dumbass uncomfy couch?!" You yell, Eddie immediately 'shhhhing' you as your voice rises.

“I thought you said you weren’t going to complain?” Eddie tilts his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.

“That was until I knew you had a spare bedroom!”

"Old people live in this apartment building Toots!" He covers your mouth with the palm of his hand, you notice his ringed hand fits perfectly around your face…he listens for any indication of his neighbors waking up.

Although there is nothing.

"Are you trying to get me evicted? Then neither of us have a place to stay." Whispering, he removes his hand and points towards the hallway, indicating he wants you to follow him towards the corridor.

The carpet in the hallway and the wood in the living room are rough on the bottoms of your bare feet, but you’re willing to go through it to have a place to stay and a now…comfy bed.

Eddie stops outside of a doorway opposite his own bedroom, he twists open the door knob. Waiting for you to enter first then flicking on the lights.

“God that bed looks so comfortable Eddie, I'll never forgive you." You mutter under your breath. At first, you thought he hadn’t heard you but you knew he had when you by the sigh he let out shortly after. "I hadn't expected you to actually fall asleep on it." Eddie flicks the light switch so you're both surrounded by the dark.

"Time for bed...for real this time, sweetheart."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say" you fall onto the bed, sighing in actual pleasure of the linen sheets and pillows.

"Goodnight.." he expected to get a short and sweet, 'goodnight' from you, but when he turned around to inspect why you hadn’t.

He’d seen you had already fallen asleep, star-fished on the bed filled with white clean blankets.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

Voices. voices were originally what had woken you, however, the exhaustion of last night drifted you back to sleep fairly quickly, and only woke up when Eddie had thrown something at your sleeping figure.

"Wake up idiot" a hard object connects with your clothed body underneath the blanket covers. "God it's like seven AM!" You groan.

"It's twelve PM—also, you missed breakfast." He states, walking out of the room. Upon inspecting what was thrown at you, your hand directly matched Eddie's motorcycle helmet.

Gathering on your clothes, you walk down the hall to meet Eddie who seemed to be packing away items from the coffee table. "What is this for?" You ask holding up the motorcycle helmet, and then your eyes immediately connect to the kitchen coffee machine. "That is for a motorcycle." He says bluntly, fixing items on his shelf.

"No shit, why did you throw it at me?"

"You're coming with me today; I don't trust you in my house alone." The whirring of the coffee machine drowns out everything else Eddie says. "Sweetheart?" He lightly grabs your shoulder. "I heard you, just thinking," you reassure.

You bring the cup of coffee to your lips and close your eyes in pleasure. "I already have a house...I'll be out of your hair in a few minutes." Holding the mug, you turn to face Eddie, whose expression is unreadable.

"And before you say anything, I'm taking myself. I have stuff to do first...anyway." He slowly nods as you speak. "But thank you for letting me stay last night, seriously I appreciate it more than you will ever know" You stroke Eddie's arm lightly.

"Of course, come back anytime you need a place to crash."

"I'll see you around?" You ask

"Maybe dead in a river somewhere." He adds

You both smile as you walk out the door.

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

It hadn't been a far work, around an hour or so.

The house looked the exact same as it had six months ago when you left it, although the grass and flowers were overgrown. It was still home.

Nothing had been locked and the windows had been open the whole time, walking in absolutely nothing had changed and you weren't sure if you would've preferred it had.

Really the only thing that had changed.

Was you.

The electricity and water were still on, meaning somebody must've been paying the bills that wasn't you. The nerves were surging through you, eyes flicking in confusion when the garage door was open at the end of the hall.

Slowly pushing the door open, your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat.

Your bike?

You were sure it had been impounded months ago by the police, so why was it here and why did it look like someone had been tending to it. Just when you were about to reach out and touch it, almost convinced this was all a dream.

Your pocket vibrated.  

Eddie: make it 'home' safe?

You: yeah I made it to the brothel alright, few cuts on my feet...no biggie.

Eddie: send pics

You: of the brothel?

Eddie: I was thinking your feet actually.

You: "Mr foot-fetish Munson"

Eddie: Mr foot-fetish Munson was my father, please call me Jr foot-fetish Munson.

You: apologies.

Eddie: stay safe ㅤ♡

You hearted Eddies Message

The rest of the night was spent cleaning the house, not that it was messy but just old.

And by the time it was seven pm, your phone vibrated again.

Robin: Party tomorrow...you better show up!

You: I'll try make an appearance.

Having friends was for sure going to kill you.

TAGLIST: @mykuup

[isthlsfate]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

001. elvis presley/austin!elvis masterlist

002. eddie munson masterlist

003. outer banks masterlist

© isthisfate. please do not copy, translate, or post my content on other platforms. 18+, minors do not interact.

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Full Throttle Heart

Pairing:Eddie Munson x Reader

AU: Mechanic Eddie x reader

Warnings: none

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, I need Eddie so bad rn- especially with the release of Gladiator 2

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

You weren’t surprised to find yourself back at Munson’s Garage, not after how your car had been behaving lately. The thing was a mess—sputtering and groaning like it was on its last legs. Eddie Munson, though? He’d been fixing it up for years now.

Years. You weren’t sure how time had passed so fast, but it had been nearly five years since Eddie had rolled into town, taking over the garage after his uncle retired. You remembered the way Wayne Munson had always been kind to you, fixing up your parents’ cars on the cheap. When he handed the reins to Eddie, you’d been skeptical.

Eddie, who you’d known vaguely from high school, was more known for playing his guitar in the cafeteria and making dramatic speeches about “the conformity machine” than anything resembling responsibility. You weren’t exactly close back then, running in different circles, but you remembered his energy, his loud laughter, and his ability to command attention.

When you walked into the garage that first time and saw Eddie, covered in grease but still rocking his signature chain and bandana combo, it took a moment to recognize him. He grinned, leaning against the workbench like he had all the time in the world.

“Well, well. Look who’s stumbled into my domain,” he’d said.

Your car had needed a new starter then, and Eddie had been surprisingly competent. The snark and flair were still there, but underneath that was someone who really cared about his work. You left the shop that day with a working car and the faint beginnings of a friendship you didn’t expect.

Now, all these years later, you realized just how much Eddie had become a constant in your life. It wasn’t just car trouble anymore. Anytime you had an excuse to swing by the shop—whether to drop off coffee, borrow his tools, or just complain about your day—you did. And Eddie? He always made you feel welcome, even if it was with a teasing smirk and some exaggerated comment about how much trouble you were.

You’d told yourself for years that you didn’t think about him that way. He was Eddie. Loud, messy Eddie who played guitar in his garage band and spent half his weekends fixing up junkers with some of his old high school friends. But the more you showed up, the more you saw him for who he really was: funny, kind, hardworking, and, yeah, ridiculously attractive.

It was in the little things. Like how he remembered how you took your coffee. Or how he never charged you for little fixes, no matter how many times you insisted. Or the way his face lit up when you laughed at one of his jokes.

That autumn evening was no different. You walked into the shop, shivering against the chill, and found Eddie bent over an old Chevelle. The sight was one you were used to—his wild curls tied back, grease smudged on his cheek, his bandana barely holding his hair out of his face.

“Munson, tell me my car isn’t completely dead,” you said as you crossed the room.

He straightened, wiping his hands on a rag before grinning at you. “Sweetheart, your car’s got one foot in the grave, but I’m a miracle worker. You know that.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned against the workbench. “So, what’s wrong with it this time?”

He launched into an explanation about the alternator, but you weren’t really listening. Instead, you found yourself watching the way his hands moved when he talked, the way his lips quirked into a smile when he teased you, the way his eyes lingered just a little longer than necessary.

“And that’s why you need to stop ignoring the weird noises it’s been making,” he finished, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “What was that last part?”

Eddie’s grin widened. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

“Just fix it,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Of course,” he said, stepping closer. “But only if you agree to dinner.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Dinner?”

He shrugged, trying to look casual, though the slight twitch of his fingers gave him away. “Yeah, dinner. Or coffee. Or whatever excuse you need to keep coming back here and making my day.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the admission, but you quickly covered it with a smirk. “Fix the car first, Munson. I’ll think about it.”

The next day, you returned with coffee and takeout, feeling more nervous than you had any right to. Eddie greeted you with his usual teasing grin, but there was a warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Peace offering?” he asked, taking the coffee from you.

“Something like that,” you said, handing him the bag of food.

As he worked on your car, the two of you fell into your usual rhythm—banter, jokes, stories from your day. But beneath it all was something unspoken, something that had been building between you for years.

When he finished, he leaned against the car, crossing his arms as he looked at you. “She’s good to go. But, uh, you know, I meant it. About dinner.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding. “I know.”

“And?”

You bit your lip, trying to fight the smile that was threatening to take over your face. “I’ll pick you up at seven. But only if you clean up first.”

Eddie laughed, the sound warm and full of promise. “Deal.”

Dinner turned into takeout on the hood of your car, parked by the lake where you used to hang out as kids. Somewhere between bites of fries and Eddie’s terrible jokes, he reached for your hand. You let him, the grease-stained calluses on his fingers grounding you in the moment.

“Guess you’re stuck with me now,” he said, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

“Guess so,” you replied softly, leaning just a little closer.

Eddie Munson, once the loud kid from high school, was now the quiet comfort you didn’t know you needed. And as the stars reflected on the water, you realized you didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[mrsmnsn]

“It looks better on you anyway…”

summary: you’ve been dating for a while and, to make you officially his, Eddie gives you something very special….

*no warnings only fluff (ok maybe there’s a bit of a suggestive content here but nothing too serious)*

(i had this draft for a while now and i loooove this headcannon! hope you like it as much as i do)

“What do you mean by it’s not official?” You desperately asked Robin

“Wait a minute, i didn’t say that! It is official, just not official official.” She says sipping her drink.

“Robin you’re not making any sense right now.” Nancy replies seeing how nervous you got.

The three of you were having a girls night at a bar, only to gossip, have some drinks and celebrate womanhood. But now, after a few drinks, you shared with the girls your story with Eddie and how it was when you finally got to be together. It was actually so casual and simple because Eddie knew you didn’t like to cause a big scene and to have all attention to you. So you had a nice date and on the way back to your house, before you could get in, he asked if you wanted to be his girl and if he could be your boyfriend. You didn’t waist a minute and involved him in a hug and a lot of kisses.

“I’m just saying that some couples like to make a gesture to make it official, so everyone else can see they’re taken. And, in your case, that’s not what happened.” Robin explains herself and now your head was thinking of all the things Eddie might have given to you

“Didn’t you hear her story? That was exactly the opposite Eddie was trying to do, he wanted to be a special moment for just the two of them. I think that’s very sweet of him.” Nancy and Robin keep arguing when it comes to you

“So you’re saying that hypothetically he was supposed to give me something, like a ring?” You interrupt them making both girls look at you

“He’s not supposed to do anything, but yes, that’s what i meant.” She replied and then started to tell a story about one of her old friends.

By the end of the night, Eddie picks you up and takes you to his place, as you agreed. You were going to spend the weekend with him.

“Hey pretty girl! How was girls night?” He kisses the top of you head and help you get in his van.

“It was very nice, but you know how Robin can get very excited about some stuff and how Nancy doesn’t agree with her but still tries to be nice and it goes on and on.” He laughs at your words and he enters the van too. “But you’ll see, i’m still going to make them become best friends!”

You keep talking about your night to him and you two stay in a comfortable silence listening to one of his Black Sabbath tapes until you get to his home. He turns off the car and before he could hop off, you stop him.

“What is it sweetheart?” He asked looking at your face, searching for something wrong.

“Can i ask you something?” You look at his hands full of rings holding yours.

“Of course you can, you can ask me anything.” He said and his tone couldn’t be sweeter

“Earlier we were taking about dating and the girls asked me how it was when you asked to be my boyfriend, and i told them. But Robin said that even though it was the most teeth-rotting story ever there was something wrong, something was missing…”

Eddie was scared of your next words but still encouraged you to continue.

“She said that normally, after a while, it’s common for the guy to give to his girlfriend something, like a gesture or a gift i don’t know. But that’s supposed to be like an affirmation of the relationship… You know what, forget it, it’s fucking stupid.” You give up on telling him what you wanted and turn to leave the car.

“Hey hey, wait a minute. There’s nothing stupid about that! You can take your time, but i want to hear it.” Eddie says, giving your hands gentle rubs.

“I feel stupid asking you this, and you know how you are my first boyfriend so i’m not sure how things are supposed to be now…” You organize the words in your head before you tell him. “Alright, hm, I was going to ask if maybe you plan to do that… i don’t want you to give me anything, and i know we’re not dating for a impressive long time and maybe we’re supposed to wait a bit more for that, i don’t even know if you are expecting me to give something to you. I am a bit lost…” You said everything too fast and got lost on your own words. But Eddie listened to you very carefully and understood what was happening.

“Are you saying that you want something, this ‘gesture’, to officialize our relationship?” He asked and looked at your eyes “Well, i wasn’t actually thinking of giving you something right now, but now that you said that i’m thinking of something here…” He let go of your hands and put them behind his neck. “ I really like the idea of people seeing that you are taken, that you are only mine… turn around, please.”

You were confused but still, you turn around and you can feel him getting closer. So close that your back is hitting his chest. He starts to whisper when you see him put his necklace in front of you.

“What do you think babe?” His soft voice rings in your ear and you admire his hands holding his necklace that you always made sure to tell him how much you loved it on him, of how attractive he looked with the pick hanging over his chest. “I know how much you like this, and imagine that… you walking around with this very specific necklace around your neck. This screams ‘i have a fucking man, he’s a rockstar, a hottie, and im all fucking his’. Uh, i loved that!”

You were smiling and blushing at his words as he lifted your hair up and put the necklace on you. You didn’t know what to say and got all nervous but you were relieved he liked your idea.

“I loved it Eds, thank you!” You dropped your hair and looked at the pick now hanging in the middle of your tits.

“I loved the placement don’t you.” He teases you and you can hear his mischievous smile and the way he’s giggling when you shove him. “I’m serious, i can imagine already, you on top of me and the pick hanging there and… wait a minute. THATS WHY YOU LIKED IT SO MUCH!

You start to laugh and cover your face embarrassed. “Shut up Eddie!”

“No baby, don’t hide your pretty face. Let me see you.” You lean into his body again and look up at him. “You do look very attractive with it.” And as he speaks, you can feel his hand on your jaw, making you look up at him, and the other, caressing your thigh.

“What about you? I don’t want to just take your necklace like that.”

“Don’t worry sweetheart, i can make another one for me so we can match, if that’s your concern.” He says teasing you once again. “But now that’s your necklace. It looks better on you anyway, so”

You just close your eyes, feeling him touching your nose with his before he kisses you passionately. Even after lots of shared kisses between the two of you, he still manages to take your breath away.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” He opened his door and yours too, being the gentleman he is, and with an arm thrown around your shoulder, he leads you inside. “Maybe we can test that theory, to see if the pick will look good on you when you’re on top of me.” He makes you giggle and you playfully slap his chest as you walk up and open the door.

“Maybe…”

[the-au-thor]

ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴜɴ | ᴘᴛ.4 | ᴇ.ᴍ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: "Eddie Munson has a whaaaat?"

Yep, he has a heart, and it angers you so much.

And he also so has a good taste in clothing which is...weird.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fey!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Click here

[¹][²][³][⁴][⁵][⁶][⁷][⁸][⁹][¹⁰][¹¹][¹²][¹³][¹⁴]

You wouldn’t look at him. Since leaving Los Angeles, flying over the beautiful skies of the United States toward Indiana, you hadn’t made eye contact with him—not even once. It hurt a lot more because you could look the others in the eye but not him.

“So… all your friends and your dad are in Hawkins, but you bought a house in Indianapolis,” you said, holding the notebook you always carried for work while watching Eddie’s driver carry his luggage into the massive house Eddie had bought a few years ago.

“Exactly,” he admitted, watching as questions piled up on your face. But instead of asking them, you adjusted your glasses, which sent the loose strand from your bun falling across your face. You nodded, handing him the keys to his truck.

“Alright. Here are your truck keys. Tomorrow, you’ve got a solo radio interview, and the guys will be traveling here from Hawkins for the concert. We already advertised that any kid wearing a Hellfire Club shirt gets an 80% discount on merch, and I sent VIP passes to all your friends and your unc—your dad.” You corrected yourself quickly.

Eddie took the keys to his truck and stuck his tongue out behind your back. You were too busy studying your notebook to notice, looking neither impressed nor fazed.

“Aren’t you going to ask anything?”

“Nope. I’ll be at my hotel room. Try not to call me because you decided to steal a giraffe from the zoo or throw a hobo party, alright? Great talk,” you said as you walked toward the house's foyer to grab your jacket.

“Oh, come on, Fey! What do you mean, your hotel room? There are, like, ten bedrooms here,” Eddie protested, following you, his arms flailing impatiently.

“I booked a room with the rest of the concert staff. Like it should be,” you explained, still avoiding his gaze as you straightened your jacket, pulling your hair out from under it.

“Come on, you’re not staff—you’re my assistant. What if I need something at night or something?”

You laughed.

“What, to give you a bottle and burp you? No thanks. See you later, Eddie.”

He clenched his teeth.

“How long are you going to stay mad at me, Fey?” he finally asked, pointing out the elephant in the room after four days without contact and two excruciating hours of travel.

“I’m not mad at you, Eddie. I just think we need boundaries,” you explained. “Boundaries will help make sure what happened at the party doesn’t happen again.”

“Don’t call me Eddie,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You looked at him, but not really—your eyes settled somewhere on his forehead as if you were digging a bullet-sized hole there.

“That’s your name. Or would you prefer I call you Mr. Munson?”

Eddie puffed out his cheeks and lightly punched the wall beside him.

“Dammit, Fey, you drive me crazy,” he muttered.

You smirked, victorious.

“Sorry to hear that, Mr.—”

“Oh, don’t you dare,” he cut you off, his tone almost a warning. But to you, it wasn’t threatening—it was entertaining. “And cut it out with the ‘Mr.’ and ‘Eddie.’ That’s not us. I’m Mun, and you’re Fey.”

You blinked rapidly, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“That’s not my name,” you replied flatly.

Eddie rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Enough. I’ll have your luggage brought in. We have a lot to talk about. My friends are arriving Wednesday, and one of them has a birthday. I need you as my conscience because apparently hiring nuns to serve drinks isn’t a great idea, according to Robert.”

“I agree with him, which I never thought I’d say. Tomorrow, after the interview, we can grab lunch and talk about it,” you said, quickly jotting something in your notebook.

“You’re killing me, Fey. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

“Others would say I’m actually making it easier.”

Eddie let out a humorless laugh.

“Oh yeah? Who? I’d like to meet them.”

“I don’t know—maybe someone like Will Walsh,” you quipped, emphasizing the name with sarcasm before snapping your notebook shut and heading for the door. That remark only made Eddie angrier.

“See? SEE?! I KNEW YOU WERE MAD—”

“What’s going on here, son?” Wayne’s voice echoed through the house, interrupting the endless, pointless argument. He had just come inside using the keys Eddie had given him when he bought the house. Both of you looked at him in silence, and of course, Eddie spoke first.

“I’m trying to deal with this woman!”

Offended, you glared at him, eyebrows raised in anger, and your mouth opened instantly to protest.

“Don’t call me that!”

Eddie nodded, pretending to reflect, placing a hand on his chin.

“You’re right. The more accurate word is child,” he said, turning to Wayne. “Wayne, I’m trying to deal with this hellish child.”

“I’m leaving,” you muttered, sighing in frustration, unwilling to hear any more of the nonsense Eddie had to say. Pausing in front of Wayne, you attempted to compose yourself, offering him a polite handshake and a nervous smile. “Sorry you had to see this, Wayne. Nice shirt. See you at the concert, I guess.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let this brat get under your skin,” he murmured the last part to you, making you puff out your cheeks and purse your lips angrily.

“It’s a little late for that,” you replied, leaning toward his ear, earning a chuckle that only irritated Eddie more. He rubbed his face with his hands and started tying his hair into a high bun.

“Fey, can you at least take this?” he asked, rushing to one of his massive suitcases and pulling out a package adorned with a bow. He placed it in your hands when it became clear you wouldn’t lift a finger to take it.

“Who should I send it to?” you asked, studying the package as if it were a foreign object.

“To your hotel room,” he replied, mocking you in a childlike voice. “It’s yours.”

Suspicious, you raised one eyebrow.

“Does it contain an explosive that’ll go off when I pull this ribbon?” you asked, flipping the package over in your hands.

“Jesus,” he muttered, rubbing his mouth. “The only thing you’re pulling is my balls,” he grumbled through gritted teeth.

You nodded silently, clutching the gift to your chest without letting the comment bother you.

“Thanks,” you said.

Now it was Eddie who was giving you a strange look.

“That’s it?”

You glanced at Wayne and then back at him, unsure.

“Yeah. I’m leaving now, Eddie.”

“Damn it!” he growled, the words ripping out of his throat like they were strangling him as he watched you close the door. Then he turned to Wayne. “Don’t ask me to explain, because I don’t know how.”

Wayne laughed, amused.

“It’s pretty clear to me. For once, you’re not messing with a girl—a girl’s messing with you.”

“Ha-ha,” Eddie deadpanned, not even pretending to find it funny. He threw an arm around Wayne’s neck—the man who was as close to a father as he’d ever had. “How about you tell me how life’s been over a couple of beers, huh?”

When the car dropped you off at the hotel, you were honestly exhausted. Thankfully, after the Indianapolis concert, there’d be a two-week break before the tour picked back up in New York. That would wrap up the U.S. leg before heading to Europe in about a month. The idea of seeing even a bit of London or Scotland had you a little excited. You’d always wanted to visit those places. Of course, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it, but you weren’t going to get picky. You had a job that paid the bills and let you see some nice places when you weren’t, as Eddie so eloquently put it, “pulling his balls.”

You couldn’t figure out why it irritated him so much that you were keeping your distance. You’d have thought he’d enjoy it. He was like some hormonal teenager—distant when his parents were around but thrilled to have space to sneak girls into the house. So why was he so bothered?

If you were being honest, though, you were enjoying it. It was about time Eddie Munson, rockstar extraordinaire, got a taste of his own medicine in the form of a little frustration.

You bit your thumb nervously, staring at the package sitting on the bed. You had no idea what in the world it could be. Eddie didn’t give you gifts. Eddie gave you generous bonuses, usually as extra pay for using your free time—or what should have been your sleep time—to clean up his messes.

You knew he was generous and cared about the people close to him, but you weren’t his friend. The only reason you knew anything about his private life was because that’s what you were hired for: don’t ask questions (but do, if necessary), fix problems, and anticipate potential disasters in both the public and not-so-public life of Eddie Munson.

When you’d agreed to an interview with Robert at his office, you’d pictured something completely different. But the man had set a trap. Just like he had an eye for rising stars, he also had a talent for spotting desperate, broke souls.

Anyway, back to the package. Eddie didn’t give anything without expecting something in return. And you hadn’t done anything for him that wasn’t already paid for. So what was in that package?

You muttered a curse under your breath and tore into it, showing no mercy for the expensive wrapping paper or the intricately tied bow, which now bounced somewhere on the hotel room floor.

Inside was more paper—a kind of thin, translucent cushioning for something delicate.

“What, no maze for me to solve, too?” you muttered as you worked to unwrap it.

Finally, you uncovered the contents: a beautiful piece of fabric that appeared to have at least three layers—the lining, the inner layer, and a layer of tulle on the outside. You picked it up and realized it was a gorgeous dress, floor-length and elegant. The lining and inner fabric ended mid-thigh, but the tulle extended all the way down to brush the floor.

It had one sleeve, while the other arm was left bare. A black evening gown, delicate, expensive, and absolutely stunning. It even smelled of a fragrance far too luxurious to come from a convenience store.

You glanced back at the package and noticed a note tucked inside. That messy handwriting was unmistakable.

“Fey,

Here’s something you can wear next time you treat yourself to one of my record label’s boring parties.

Happy belated birthday, and sorry if I’m an ignorant ass.

—Mun xx”

You read the note a couple of times, then stared at the gorgeous dress for a few minutes. You felt the warmth in your chest building, transforming second by second into something else.

When you realized what it was, you threw the dress onto the bed angrily, glared up at the ceiling, and screamed.

Damn. Eddie. Munson.

[joequiinn]

The Dos and Dont’s of Fake Dating | Style Guide

I'm still obsessing over Dos and Don'ts concluding, and now that I'm focusing on further developing Ice Princess, I put together a bit of a style guide!! Cassandra's aesthetic develops over time, so I've created boards for both her high school fashion sense as well as her style evolution from 1987 onward.

Cass's aesthetic from 1982 to 1986:

Teenage Cass most definitely leans into a preppy aesthetic - she loves pleated skirts and sweater vests, and has a fairly neutral color palette. I imagine virtually every single outfit she wears has icy/pale blue in it, but otherwise she sticks to beige, white, cream, etc. Her wardrobe is clean, put together, and evident of the fact that she was raised in a rich family.

Cass's aesthetic from 1987 and onward:

Once Cass and Eddie are off on their own, she starts to borrow inspiration from his wardrobe - she starts to incorporate denim or leather into outfits, her wardrobe pieces start to have more of an alternative influence. Her color palette also darkens, though she sticks with primarily blues, blacks, and beiges. She retains some of her preppy wardrobe sensibilities, but combines it with a grungy aesthetic in a way that only she can pull off.

[chapter list] | [character info/aesthetics]

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Eddie's gorgeous ex-girlfriend arrived with a proposition, and when he was hesitant to refuse it, everything the two of you have been holding back boiled over. (4.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, anxiety, panic attack, vomiting, parental conflict, poverty, insecurities, secret relationship, sexual fantasies, idiots in love, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @word-wytch for helping me with Eddie's mannerisms 💚

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter fourteen: burned

Babe.

She called him ‘babe,’ that one word laced with more than friendliness. There was a history behind it, a sultriness, all of it seeming so natural.

There was no air left to breathe; of this, you were almost certain. Your lungs constricted around nothing, shoved tight behind your ribs with nowhere to expand. 

She called him babe. And she kissed him. 

On the cheek, on the lips—it didn’t matter. She had kissed him and it didn’t sound like he’d attempted to stop her. Nor had he corrected her when she’d called the motel a shithole. His ex-girlfriend showed up and called your home–and his–a shithole, and he’d all but agreed with her.

And she called him babe.

You were going to be sick, your head spinning from the myriad emotions coursing through it. Anger, frustration, confusion, sadness, and envy stirred up a fatal cocktail that had you retching into the wastebasket next to the desk.

A door swung open, and you prayed that it was Mom or Dad, already formulating a believable reason as to why you were suddenly throwing up. Must’ve eaten something that disagreed with me; I’ll be fine–

“Heiress?”

Of course it was Eddie. Of course. His footsteps got faster as he heard you throwing up, barely audible through the blood pulsing in your ears. Before you knew it, he was crouching down beside you, one hand gently stroking your back, your shirt now soaked through with sweat.

You wrenched away, shrugging off his touch and wiping your lips. “Don’t touch me.” Your voice was hoarse from sickness and hurt.

Eddie flinched at your gruff demeanor, toppling backwards onto his jean-clad bottom with a soft oof. “Heiress, it’s fine. I’m not afraid of a little–”

“No!” You found your emotional footing, grounding yourself in anger rather than shaking it off. The last thing you needed was for him to see you as vulnerable. Even worse, pitiful. “Leave me alone.”

You couldn’t look at him without seeing her, so beautiful and badass. Everything he wanted and more. Had he blushed when she kissed him? Had his hand slid around her waist to pull her closer, to breathe in her perfection? The thought sent your stomach roiling, and it took a mountain of force to keep from getting sick again.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “I can get you some ginger ale, o-or some water–”

You shook your head subtly lest you rouse another round of nausea. “I said leave me alone,” you said through gritted teeth. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you were disgusted with yourself for wishing he would kiss them away. “I’m fine.”

Babe. With a kiss.

“At least let me take out the trash.”

“Can you just fucking go?” You whirled around to finally face him, your heart momentarily lurching at his recoil. “You can probably still catch up with your girlfriend. She just left.”

“My…” Eddie cocked his head with a naivety that had you simultaneously wanting to comfort and smack him. “Who, Fiona?”

Logically, you knew she had a name, but hearing him say it still made everything worse. Fiona. 

“Yeah, her,” you spat. Just because you knew her name didn’t mean you had to say it.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped Eddie’s lips, half-hearted in its landing. “She’s not my girlfriend, Heiress.” His voice had a prickly edge to it, and it made you feel slightly less guilty about your own snappiness. 

“Did you tell her that?” Frustration flamed behind your eyes. “Because I heard her call you ‘babe’ and give you a kiss.”

You summoned all of your strength and pushed yourself up to standing. Eddie followed suit, though he didn’t need to lean on the desk to keep himself upright like you did. 

“Christ.” He raked his fingers through his curls. “It was a kiss on the cheek. It’s not like we were frenching in the hallway.”

The visual alone might have sent you back to the trash can, but you held your composure. What was left of it, anyway. 

“And what about her calling you ‘babe’?”

He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, an act of innocence. “Probably just out of habit from when she was…y’know…”

My girlfriend. He didn’t need to say the words aloud; you filled in the blanks without any assistance. 

“But you didn’t correct her.” You were being petty, and while you hated yourself for it, you also couldn’t stop it. A dam had been broken, and the rupture unleashed all of the frustration and confusion that you’d kept bottled up. 

From outside, a car blared its horn loud enough to startle you. Eddie brought his hand out to comfort you, almost instinctively, before he remembered you were mid-argument and let it drop to his side. 

“Honestly,” he exhaled, “I wasn’t really paying attention when she said that.”

Your stomach soured. If he wasn’t listening to the words she was saying, then what was his mind occupied with? Images of him stampeded through your head: Eddie lusting over bow-shaped lips, the subtle swell of her breasts beneath her tank top, the way her denim miniskirt emphasized the curve of her ass…all while you stood behind the desk none the wiser. 

You shoved the implication aside. “Why was she here? How did she even know you were here?”

Eddie’s nails scratched along the desk, the only sound for a few seconds until he spoke again. “I talked to her after they did their show at Webster Hall.” 

How could you have forgotten that show—the one he was at the night someone vandalized Eisen’s. 

“I told her where I was staying, gave her the room number. She took a chance and stopped by tonight.”

“For what?” You quickly assessed his clothes; nothing seemed to be rumpled or unbuttoned that would indicate any below-the-belt activities. 

Eddie caught your eyes roving his body, and not in the hungry, desire-filled way you had looked at him earlier today. 

“She asked me to rejoin the band,” he said quietly. “They want me back for their tour.” 

Rejoin the band for their tour. If the tabloid article was accurate, that meant he’d be leaving within the next few weeks. 

Your silence spoke volumes. Eddie huffed out a laugh thick with venom. “Wow, thanks for your enthusiasm. Really amps up my excitement.”

“It’s just…a lot to process.” You picked at your lower lip, the bit of dry skin suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. “Do they want you back permanently? Or just until Caleb Dalton gets out of rehab?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest and stepped back, protecting an open wound. “What are you talking about? Who’s going to rehab?”

Shit. You screwed your eyes shut, but there was no more feigning ignorance. He had to know the truth, and you had to be the one to break it to him. 

And so you told him everything: the public intoxication arrest, the rehab stay, the threat it posed to the band’s future. When he asked how you knew all of this, you were honest about that, too. 

“So, wait.” Eddie held up his forefinger to stop you, though you’d already run out of words to say. “You knew about this stuff since our first date? And then you read the article today? And you never thought to tell me about any of it?” 

Shame snaked its way through your veins, heating you from the inside. Fresh tears pricked at your eyes, and you forced yourself to blink them back. You knew you should have told him; maybe not during that first date, but certainly in the days following. It wasn’t as though you hadn’t had the opportunity. Even spotting that article this afternoon brought up the perfect moment. 

But you’d let your cowardice take over, and now you were paying the price.

“I wasn’t sure what to say.” It was a pathetic excuse, and you both knew it.

Eddie raked his fingers through his hair, snagging them on a knotted curl. “How about, ‘hey, Eddie, did you hear about what’s going on with your old band?’ Or you could’ve come right out with it, something like, ‘your replacement is in rehab, just so you know.’” He shook his head in stunned disbelief, his nostrils flaring with each word. “Anything, Heiress. Anything!”

You winced at his increasing volume. “Eddie, maybe we should talk about this another–”

“No!” He hissed through gritted teeth. “No, I’m so fucking sick and tired of waiting. Waiting for you to tell your parents about us, waiting for another big break, waiting for something to finally go right for once in my stupid life!” He slammed his fist on the desk, rattling the old wood and your nerves, veins pulsing in his forearm. “I’m such a goddamn idiot. I should’ve been saving up every penny to get back home, but I stuck around here for…for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me.”

Every part of you ached to refute that statement, to insist that you did care about him. But it wouldn’t be of any use; he’d already made up his mind that he meant nothing to you. And what did you have to disprove him? The way fear kept you from telling your parents the truth? The constant sneaking around to avoid the inevitable confrontation that came with them discovering the real relationship between you and Eddie?

“And every time I ask you about it, it’s always ‘soon,’ or ‘I’m going to.’” Eddie continued, his jaw twitching as he inhaled. “I might as well be back in high school, hooking up with cheerleaders behind their boyfriends’ backs, acting like nothing happened between us.” He looked at you with utter disgust. “At least they had a decent excuse. You’re just selfish.”

“Selfish?” Of all of the words used to describe you, good or bad, selfish hadn’t ever been one of them. “I’m…no, I’m not–”

The scent of stale cigarette smoke choked you. “Well, what would you call it, then? What would you call stringing me along while you weave your little web of lies?” He leaned in, though there was no need with how loud he was speaking. “I thought we were a team, Heiress. And a damn good one at that. But you were playing by yourself this whole fucking time.”

Your throat went dry, your body hollow. You were selfish. You spent so much time worried about the potential backlash that you never considered how he felt. 

Eddie didn’t stop, not even when the tears rolled down your cheeks. “You know what I think?” He pressed his lips into a thin line, like he knew he should suppress what he was about to say but no longer could hold back. “I think you can’t handle people following their dreams when you’re too scared to follow yours. I think you liked having me here because that meant I wasn’t out there trying to be a ‘superstar.’” He hooked his fingers to make air-quotes. 

“But I’m done with your games, Heiress. I’m done pretending to just be the handyman you happen to get along with. I’m done with you.”

A response, a retort, a poignant Fuck off all stayed lodged in your throat. Only the sound of a door swinging open echoed through the motel. 

Shit. Your parents. They must’ve woken up from the arguing and—

“What the hell is going on out here?” Phyllis’s rough, irritated voice called out. Her robe was half-open, the top of one freckled breast visible. She had her trusty bat raised, ready to fight, but when she saw the commotion was only you and Eddie, her posture loosened. “Jesus Christ, I thought someone was trying to…never mind.” She shook her head and scowled. “If you two don’t learn to keep it down, then I’ll just have to be louder.”

You and Eddie normally would have laughed and shot back a cheeky comment, but neither of you mustered up a joke. Phyllis had already turned back around to her room, figuring out how to salvage her client’s evening after the interruption. 

“I’m leaving anyway,” Eddie grumbled. The tips of his ears were pink from the sheer heat of his anger. 

“Leaving? Like, for good?” Your voice was so tiny that you barely heard it, and you were surprised that he did. Even more surprised that he didn’t pretend not to hear it and keep walking away. 

He sighed with the weight of the world. “Yeah, Heiress. For good.” He turned back to face you one last time, a serpentine bite in his tone. “And for what it’s worth, I liked when Fiona called me ‘babe.’ It was nice hearing someone say it without checking their surroundings first.”

So he had noticed it—the way you made sure your parents weren’t around before calling him a pet name or pressing a kiss to his waiting lips. You weren’t as subtle as you’d hoped, and he’d picked up on it. 

Eddie held his same stoic expression as he watched your face fall, your posture slumping in total defeat. His words were cruel, but they didn’t lack truth. And it didn’t mean you were ready to hear them. 

“Fuck you,” you said weakly. You no longer cared if he saw you cry. Shame over vulnerability couldn’t hold a candle to the loss you already felt, though he was still standing in front of you. “Just…fuck you. I should’ve left you on that bench.”

“Then who would be your charity case?” His brown eyes, usually soft and comforting, teasing, or filled with lust, held only rage now. “Who would you pretend to give a shit about?”

Insecurity chipped away at your minimal resolve to stay upright as you wondered what kind of eyes Fiona saw tonight. 

“Do you…” you sniffled, wishing you would just wake up and realize the whole argument was a dream. “Do you really think this was all pretend for me?”

Eddie paused for a moment, actually considering the possibility. Its mere feasibility was another dagger through your already broken heart. 

“Honestly, Heiress,” he finally said, “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

He left you in stunned silence, only the sounds of boulevard traffic filling the air. Life had been sucked out of the lobby, leaving it devoid of the lightheartedness it only began holding when Eddie came around. 

Before him, before that night, you were alone. You were lonely. It had only been two months since then, yet you found it impossible to remember a time before him. Tonight felt like the first time you’d ever spent a shift by yourself. 

What if you followed him back down the hall? What if you took his hand and held it, promising not to let go until you told your parents about the relationship? What if you peppered his face with kisses until his anger melted into something resembling forgiveness?

The young woman who you’d been on his first night in the motel would roll her eyes at the mess you’d become. She would have told you not to waste your efforts on a man, especially one who was so obviously a temporary fixture in your life. Dating a guest? One who had no connections to the city? It was destined for failure from the start. 

Maybe it was best if you let him be for the evening. Give him some time to cool down. Not to mention, you’d be leaving the desk unmanned if you followed him, and what a way that would be to break the news to your parents. 

Sorry I abandoned my job; I was just trying to keep my secret relationship with Eddie from ending. Did I mention that Uncle Mo and Aunt Tam caught up making out in the park?

Eddie didn’t leave his room for the rest of the night. You sighed with relief at six A.M. when Dad took the desk and there was no sign of Eddie. 

He probably fell asleep, you reasoned as you changed into your pajamas. I’ll talk to him when I wake up and we’ll work it out. 

You were done hiding your feelings. 

As you tumbled into bed, the weight of exhaustion somehow heavier than your guilt, you mentally sketched out your apology. No, it was more than an apology; it was a promise. A promise to proudly be his girl no matter who was watching. A promise to give him your heart with no stipulations. A promise to be the team he thought you always were. 

For the first time in a long time, you awoke before your alarm. Nerves fluttered in your belly as you got dressed. You threw on the nearest clean clothes you could find, lest you wimp out before you even left the room. 

Eddie, I’m so sorry. It’s me and you. I want it to be me and you. I’ll tell my parents about us right now so we don’t have to hide, because…I love you, Eddie Munson. I love the way you always pat your pocket for your cigarettes and lighter before you go anywhere. I love the way your tongue pokes out whenever you’re focused. I love the way you hold me, like I’m safe as long as you’re around. 

And then you’d kiss him, soft and slow, losing yourself in his touch with the intention of never again leaving him behind. 

Knock knock. 

No answer. 

Knock knock knock. 

Again, nothing. 

You waited for a few minutes—or maybe it was only a couple of seconds. Time crawled as you waited for him to answer. 

“Eddie?”

Silence. 

“Eddie?” One more, but louder. Loud enough to catch Dad’s attention from the lobby. 

Dad’s brows knit together. “Eddie left this morning around 6:30. He didn’t tell you?”

Dread rose in your esophagus and almost had you hurtling towards the trashcan again. 

Of course he left. Why wouldn’t he? What did he have to stay for? Did you actually expect him to give up the opportunity to tour for a life of motel repairs, subway station guitar shows, and a girlfriend afraid to have a public relationship?

“I assumed he told you…” The wrinkles in Dad's forehead became more pronounced with confusion. 

You cleared your throat and faked a laugh. “Oh, right. I must’ve forgotten.” You gave yourself a little bop on the head as if to say, silly me! “I, uh, should probably clean his room.”

Dad nodded and said something about the washing machine acting up, and to be cognizant of laundry load size. And despite what you now knew, your first instinct was to ask Eddie to fix it. 

Room four still smelled like his drugstore cologne and his cigarettes. In fact, that coupled with the used ashtray and the unmade bed were the only evidence that Eddie had been here at all. That this man hadn’t been a figment of your imagination for the past few months. 

Your eyes roved the room for something—anything—to indicate a hint of forgiveness from him. Something to tell you this leave was only temporary. Maybe a note or even the phone number of where he’d be staying. 

Probably with Fiona. 

Your lungs struggled for air, tightening with each shallow breath. You couldn’t reach your room fast enough. 

You pictured the two of them sharing a bed, limbs intertwined. He’ll look at her with love and desire: the talented badass girl he truly wanted. That he’d ever wasted time with someone who was quick to confront a stoned stranger but couldn’t lie to her parents would be a blip on his dating radar; a lapse in judgment he’d one day laugh off. 

If he wasn’t already laughing at you. 

July arrived a few weeks later with near-literal roaring flames. 

Independence Day brought a few extra guests to the motel, mostly young couples who booked last-minute getaways to see the Macy’s fireworks display. Raw envy bared its teeth with each affectionate touch and stolen kiss, and you’d had to hold back a biting remark every time you saw an exchange of intimate gestures. 

You and Eddie could have taken a moment to watch the fireworks display, his arms wrapped around you and his chin on your shoulder as colors lit up the sky. 

Heat came the week after. 

It ripped through the city; even the local weatherman’s warnings didn’t fully capture just how stifling it would be. 

A line of perspiration trickled down your back as you folded towels and placed them on the closet shelf. 

Mom was at the desk, a battery-operated oscillating fan doing its best to keep her cool. It stopped mid-rotation, and she smacked it to start it up again.

“Dad didn’t get the big one?” The batteries must nearly be drained after use for days on end. The corded one would be better, and would last longer than one reliant on batteries. 

Mom shook her head. “That thing sucks up electricity like a monster,” she said. “No use running up the bill over it. I’ll just pick up new batteries later.”

The mention of the motel’s financial decline sliced you open, and you quickly tried to patch the wound with a distraction. 

“I can go now.” Before Mom could protest, you plucked your wallet from your room. It was brutally hot outside, the humidity enveloping you the moment you opened the front door. But anything was better than staying home and creating imaginary scenarios where Eddie would come from around the corner, wearing his signature smirk. 

In some of your wilder daydreams, he wore little else. 

Outside wasn’t much better than inside, especially with the sun beating down, but a breeze blew by every so often that provided some relief. Kids played in the street, opening fire hydrants and splashing around. They had no reverence for the beauty of childhood summers. Not yet—that would come with time, when opportunities to cherish that innocence were solidly in the past. 

You and Ben used to play like that, your parents peering out of the motel window every so often to make sure you were both still there, still safe. Always looking out for you, even as you stretched into your teenage years and craved independence. 

You should call Ben and meet up again. Maybe invite Nora, too. They’d take your mind off of your never-ending and ever-growing list of mistakes. 

The trip to the convenience store was for naught, the cashier informing you that they were sold out of everything except for watch batteries. Same went for the next two stores you tried. Apparently everyone’s portable fans decided to crap out on the same day. 

Resignedly, you trudged back to the motel. Maybe you could convince Mom to use the corded fan, or at least tell you where it had been stashed so you could set it up during your shift. 

All thoughts of fan whereabouts disappeared when you got back to the motel and saw Mom and Dad standing at the desk. Dad kept his head down as though inspecting the scratched wood. Mom was the one glaring at you, an open envelope clutched in her hand. It bore a violet emblem on the top left-hand corner. 

“What is this?” She phrased it as a question, but her clenched jaw told you that she already knew the answer. 

“I-I don’t—”

Mom shook her head. “No. Don’t tell me you don’t know why you got a tuition bill from NYU.” She glanced once more at the logo. “From the Silberman School of Social Work, actually.”

You said nothing. Ever since Admitted Students’ Day, you always made sure to be around when the mail arrived. The one day you left, it arrived without warning. 

Dad spoke your name in a breath. “How did you get into a social work program if you majored in hospitality?”

And then there was that. No lie, no matter how tangled the web, could explain the cold, hard proof in front of them. 

Words poured out of you, barely giving you moments to breathe. 

“I meant to tell you–I wanted to tell you. It’s just…you’ve been counting on me to take over the motel. I never wanted to let you down.” Despite your assumption that you’d depleted your reservoir of tears over Eddie, your throat tightened with the beginnings of a crying jag. “I just want to help people.”

Mom’s fist clenched around the envelope. “And how is this helping us?” She opened her mouth to speak again, but Dad gently placing his hand over hers temporarily silenced her.

“You lied to us,” Dad said. “You lied, and then you kept lying.”

“I know.” Your voice was so small that you could barely hear it. Or maybe that was because of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

“You know.” Mom scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, how nice of you to be so self-aware.” She let out a disbelieving laugh. “So what did you major in? And how did that lead you to one of the most expensive schools in the city?”

You told them everything–the decision to study psychology, the graduate school fair that you’d attended, the student representative you’d spoken to who assured you that you’d make an excellent candidate for their Masters program. And lastly, you told them that the program requirements would prevent you from working at the motel starting next month.

Mom stayed angry, her eyes narrowed, biting down on the inside of her cheek to keep herself from interrupting you. But Dad…

He was slightly hunched over and unsettlingly quiet. You’d almost rather he’d be yelling, or at least hurling his feelings toward you like Mom was.

He looked at Mom when he finally spoke, but his words cut you with a serrated edge. “We can’t pay for a new employee. And we need a third person to run the place, unless you and I want to split twelve hour days–”

“No. I–I’ll fix this.” There was no way that your aging parents would be working over eighty hours a week. “I won’t go to NYU. I’ll call them right now and see if I can rescind my acceptance, and then I’ll cancel my student loans.”

“Do you really think we can trust you after all of this?” Mom’s shouting startled you, but your flinching didn’t deter you. “And let me guess–you have some part in Eddie leaving, too?”

Now that you weren’t expecting. The pause between Mom’s question and your nod gave her all of the information she needed.

“Let me get this straight,” she seethed. “You pick a major that has nothing to do with hospitality. You apply to and then accept an offer to a graduate program that means you can’t support the family business. You don’t tell us a word about any of this, so we’re sitting around like idiots instead of planning accordingly. And then,” she pointed her finger at you, “when we do find someone to help out around here, you strike up an inappropriate relationship that I told you would end badly.”

Dad’s teary eyes met yours. “How could you do this to us?” Once again, his whisper was a knife.

“I’m sorry.” You didn’t bother to wipe your cheeks, knowing they’d stay damp until you couldn’t cry any longer. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” 

Your brain throbbed against your skull, the forming pounding headache distracting you from the flickering lights. Everything was blurred anyway.

Mom noticed–she always noticed when something was awry, even if she couldn’t pinpoint its exact cause. “Great, now the bulbs are going.”

“I’ll get some new ones.” You’d pay for them yourself if you had to; you wouldn’t dare touch any of the money in the register. “I’ll go out right now and–”

The lights flickered once more, only this time, they didn’t go back on. The hum of electricity died out in an instant. You poked your head out of the front door, heart sinking as you saw the other business owners doing the same thing. The block was quiet except for the exchange between a flour-covered pizzeria worker and the cashier of the ninety-nine cent store:

“Is yours out, too?”

“Sure is.”

An overwhelming stillness encompassed the neighborhood. There was no hum of air conditioning coming from any of the other businesses. Traffic lights had gone dark, drivers slowing to a crawl upon the realization that there was neither a red, yellow, nor green indicator. A glance down the street at the high-rise office buildings, their windows suspiciously void of their usual overhead lighting, told you that the rest of the city wasn’t faring any better.

A blackout. In the middle of the hottest week of the summer.

In more ways than one, you were totally and completely powerless.

--

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[fairylights-throughthemist]

I can’t wait to get home and read