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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Note

I would actually LOVE to read about the proposal! How did it go down? Was Harris there? I think a blurb about that would be really special :)

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: A lazy Sunday morning turns into something much more special, thanks to your two favorite guys.

Warnings: pretty much none, just proposal fluff and a smidge of suggestive language at the end

WC: 1.3k

A/N: The proposal/Harris calling Ms. Sweetheart "mommy" was also requested by @hippiefairy02, @cheesewritings, @enam3l, @peachysink, and a handful of anons!

March 1998

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

Harris’s soft voice doesn’t carry over the sounds of running water and the sponge squelching soap bubbles along the lip of a coffee mug, the remnants of a lazy Sunday morning breakfast. He clears his throat and tries again, tugging on the back of your bathrobe as he shouts.

“Ms. Sweetheart?!”

You jump, pulled from your own thoughts, nearly dropping the cup among the sea of dishes cluttering the sink. Eddie had made scrambled eggs and toast for the three of you; a gesture you’d thoroughly enjoyed until you realized that the clean-up fell on your shoulders.

“Jeez, Har. What’s the emergency?” You catch your breath, allowing your heart rate to settle back to a normal rhythm, and shut off the faucet.

Harris wrinkles his nose, the bridge creasing in confusion. “There’s no ‘mergency,” he says, releasing his grasp and motioning for you to follow him. “I gotta show you something.”

You oblige with a soft laugh, haphazardly grabbing a dish towel to wipe the suds from your hands and wrists, and let him lead you to the kitchen table. Crayons are strewn across it, blues and purples and reds intermingled around his artwork.

“Whatcha drawing?” you ask, hands bracing the back of the chair he’s plopped down on. You peer over his shoulder and smile. It’s a picture of you, Eddie, and him. A full-fledged kindergartener, he’s been adding more details to his stick-figure family portraits: a vase of wildflowers sits atop a sienna oval table, black squares and rectangles above it represent the various photo frames hanging on the kitchen wall. This picture looks different than Harris’s usual set-up; he typically draws himself in the middle of you and Eddie, each of his hands overlapping yours and his dad’s. Today, he’s drawn you, then Eddie, then him. And your hands aren’t linked; instead, he’s used a silver crayon to place something in Eddie’s cartoon palm.

You furrow your brows and gesture towards the mystery object. “What’s that, Har?” It’s better not to guess, lest you say the wrong thing and inadvertently offend him. Just last week, you’d asked him if a small blue object in the sky was a bird, and he was on the verge of tears trying to explain that it was a UFO.

“Can’t you see the alien?” he’d wailed, pointing to a little green dot you’d assumed was a rogue eye.

Now, Harris grins. “It’s a proposing ring!” he announces. “That’s why you’re smiling so big!” Sure enough, the curved line of sketch-you’s mouth extends to both cheeks.

Real-you can’t help but mimic the beaming expression. Just the idea of Eddie proposing to you has you feeling giddy. You’d marry him tomorrow if you could; all he has to do is ask. Though your pulse quickens at the thought, you don’t want to build up Harris’s hopes for something that may not happen for a while. Pressing a kiss to his scalp with a soft giggle, you remark, “A proposing ring? That’s so silly!”

“Is it?”

The unexpected sound of Eddie’s voice has you whirling around, startled for the second time this morning. He’s still wearing his pajamas, flannel pants perfectly complementing your own cozy attire. He bites the inside of his lip, and when he takes your hand in his, you can feel it tremble slightly.

“Sweetheart, I…” he starts, trying to remember the speech he had rehearsed an absurd amount of times. He clears his throat before speaking again. “Sweetheart, I wake up every morning and go to sleep every night grateful for you. Never in my life did I think I would find someone who loved me the way you do; someone who loves my son like he’s their own.” He chokes up at the last part, blinking back the tears so he can press on. “Sometimes, I still can’t believe I landed such an incredible, thoughtful, beautiful woman.”

You offer a small laugh, slightly easing his nerves, and he manages to smile. “You…you’re the love of my life, and my world is infinitely better with you in it,” he continues, pulling a small velvet-covered box from his pocket and sinking onto one knee. With shaky fingers, he opens the box to reveal a princess-cut diamond on a thin silver band. “Will you marry me?”

“Oh, my god.” Elation and disbelief simultaneously surge through you, eyes going misty as the realization hits you. Eddie’s actually proposing. He wants you to be his wife, and he wants to be your husband. “Yes, Eddie. Yes, of course I’ll marry you!” You’re laughing and crying, tears streaming down your cheeks; you sloppily wipe them away with the back of your hand.

Eddie stands up, the ring still in its case. You expect him to slide it onto your fourth finger; instead, he turns to Harris with a knowing expression. “Your turn, Har.”

Before you can question it further, Harris takes your hand in his, just like Eddie had. “Ms. Sweetheart,” he looks up at you with wide, exuberant eyes, “will you be my mommy?”

You scoop him up into your arms; he’s almost too tall for you to do it comfortably, and it pangs at your heart. “Yes, I will be your mommy, Harris!” You kiss his cheek with an exaggerated mwah, placing him back on the ground as he excitedly kicks his feet.

With that, Eddie puts the engagement ring on your finger triumphantly, pulling you in for a hug that squeezes the breath out of your lungs. His lips find yours without hesitation, kissing you as long as Harris will allow before the kid becomes impatient.

“Mommy?” The title rolls off of his tongue so easily, bringing with it fresh batches of tears for both you and Eddie. Mommy. You’re Harris’s mommy. The close bond you’ve already developed strengthens in that moment, and you vow to wear your badge of Chosen Mom with pride.

“Yeah, Har?”

“Can we celebrate with ice cream?”

“It’s, like, 9:30 in the morning,” Eddie laughs, scrunching his nose. “I don’t even think Scoops Ahoy is open yet.”

Harris pouts but ultimately relents, on one condition. “Then…can we go when it opens?”

You look at Eddie, who delivers his seal of approval with a quick nod. “I think that can be arranged.”

As Harris cheers, you sneak a glimpse of the new jewelry adorning your finger. It daintily sparkles even under the kitchen lighting, a perfect depiction of your love for one another.

Eddie’s hands snake around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “How’d I do?” he asks with a goofy, lopsided grin. “Is my future wife happy with her ring?”

You turn around, draping your arms around his neck and pressing your body against his, desperate for a moment of intimacy. “I love it. And I love you, Eddie Munson.”

“And me?” pipes up a little voice.

“Both of you,” you amend with a giggle. Pleased with your answer, Harris returns to his crayons and construction paper.

Eddie’s voice is a melodic whisper in your ear. “After our family ice cream date, maybe you and I can celebrate a bit more privately?” You can practically hear his teasing smirk at the raunchy implication.

“We can pick up champagne on the way home,” you murmur back, heat blossoming in your belly. You’re no longer just a girlfriend, but a fiancée, a future wife, and there is nothing else you crave more than the touch of your future husband.

And while you and Eddie finish washing the dishes with a plethora of stolen kisses, Harris picks up a green crayon and titles his drawing, just like he’d learned in art class:

Mommy, Daddy, and Harris.

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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enam3l · 2 years ago

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dirty thirty (@funsonmunson-again's mafia eddie x reader)

funsonmunson-again's birthday week writing challenge / prompt #24: saving the best for last haha, but birthday spankings with any of the eddies!

happy birthday evie!! thank you for reviving the timeline with your amazing fics. it's eddie's birthday too and he's in trouble...

CW: very much 18+, pure smut, bdsm, use of guns, truly the most depraved thing i've ever written.

For his 30th birthday, Eddie Munson has nearly just taken a shot to the head... but in your defence, he really fucking deserved it.

Slowly - albeit on wobbly feet - Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Freak turn around to face you, eyes still wide from seeing the bullet fly past their boss's shoulder. They're stood in a line like naughty school boys in your garden, caught doing something they shouldn't be. Which is exactly what's happened.

You stand in front of the glass doors that lead onto the patio, curtains billowing and light glowing behind you. Flanked by four growling dogs. The light from the house reveals the curves of your body under the sheer babydoll lingerie you're wearing. But no one is looking at the small number, they're cowering at the pistol in your hands and the infuriated look on your face.

'Get inside, now,' you snarl, the dogs' snapping in agreement with you.

At the stroke of midnight, by some miracle of god, the unimaginable happened and Eddie Munson reached thirty years of age. Each year of his life since he hit ten, felt like a bonus. He was sure he'd never see twenty and absolutely certain he'd never meet thirty but here he was. He'd been surprised you let him go out with the guys that night but you insisted.

'Let loose with the boys, then I can have you all to myself in the day,' you'd smirked, clearly hiding something.

The four men left the house at 8pm, promising to be back by 2am at the latest. Yet, by the fourth shot of tequila, that promise was long forgotten as well as Eddie's suspicions that you'd been planning something.

Which you had. Throughout your four years together, it had been near impossible to surprise Eddie. Firstly, his line of business meant he liked to know everything that was going on. Surprises equalled the opportunity for danger. Secondly, you shared your finances - although, in all honesty, his finances, but he enforced a what's mine is yours policy. So, it was hard to splash on something for him, without him noticing when the bills came or his accountant alerting him. But for his thirtieth, you devised enough was enough.

After hearing him murmur to himself so many times about his disbelief he had survived this long. Not only had he survived, but now, with you by his side, he was living. Your man deserved for once to be surprised and spoilt. To reign in a new decade of life together in the best way possible.

Therefore, for the past year you had been plotting. With the help of Eddie's accountant and the boys, you'd secretly been putting money aside. Slicing off a chunk of any 'shopping trip' money, he gave you, and putting into a secret account. The accountants making investments on your behalf throughout the year that also went into the account.

Now, you had a hefty chunk of cash that was being spent on the most devastatingly romantic holiday to France that money can buy. A long glamorous weekend in Paris, followed by a week hiding away together on a private beach in Monaco. The flight was booked for Eddie's birthday, that's why you'd let the boys take him out - so you could pack without getting rumbled. But nothing is ever so simple with a Munson.

At 1am, with still no Eddie, you'd become impatient.

By 2am, you were irritated.

By 3am, you were furious.

By 4am, you were terrified that something awful had happened.

At 4:15am you thought those fears were confirmed as you heard gunfire from the gardens.

Not even thinking how you were dressed in an entirely unsuitable birthday present for Eddie, your instincts kicked in. Taking the pistol out the bedside table and with your precious pups quick on your heels, you ran down the stairs. Brain screaming with all the awful possibilities of what could've happened. No matter how long you've been together, the fear over Eddie's job never truly leaves. You burst through the patio doors and fire a warning shot... and then you see the culprits.

Eddie and the boys, lined up, their own pistols in hand. Before them were (once) law ornaments which they had clearly lined up and started target practice on. Now they were looking at you, the tiny remaining sober part of their brains were doing some explaining. Maybe coming home late and doing target practice whilst you were oblivious and gone alone, wasn't a great idea.

With big blinking eyes, like Bambi in front of headlights, Eddie begins to stumble on his words.

'K-k-kitten, hi... I'm s-sorr-'

'Shut the fuck up,' you snapped harshly. The rest of the guys immediately looked down at the ground.

'Edward, get inside NOW. The rest of you, leave.'

Immediately, the four grown men begin to wobble and scramble. The three that weren't your fiancée, babbling,

'We're so sorry Y/N... we didn't mean to... we lost track of...'

'I don't care. Go, before you're limping as well as swaying and this time it'll be because I've shot you in the fucking leg.'

In a flash, they were gone. You glowered at your now shattered flamingos in the distance before turning to look at Eddie. He was tripping over the entrance to the house when you finally looked him in the eye.

'Baby... I really sorry,' he whispered.

'I don't think you are,' you said coolly, 'go to the bedroom. Now.'

Eddie didn't hesitate, he quickened his stumbling pace. As you locked the doors, you could see him gripping onto Lucifer for stability. Then using Zeus as well once he attempted the stairs. You could hear him unsubtly whispering to them as he climbed the marble steps.

'I've never seen your Mom this mad before.'

It's true, he hadn't and he was petrified. More terrified than he had ever been in a sticky situation during work, he had far more to lose with you. Good job Munson, he grumbles to himself, not even five hours into 30 and you've fucking blown it.

When you finally come up to the bedroom, Eddie is sat on the edge of the bed, throbbing head in his hands. Now he's not stumbling around, he can finally look at you. The pretty sheer dress you're wearing in his favourite colours, pretty bows and ruffles and microscopic matching panties. Your hair is swept up how he likes as well. Everything you've done, as ever, is for him. He feels awful and not because he's drank the best part of a bottle of tequila and a whiskey more expensive than several of his rings.

'You look really beautiful, kitten,' he whispers, big eyes now wet.

But your eyes are still filled with anger.

'How could you, Eddie!' You shout, 'you scared the shit out of me!'

'I'm sorry, I-' he croaks.

'No!' You snap, taking a kitten heel off and launching it across the room. 'No excuses. I've not finished! Can you imagine if I had done that? Disappeared longer than I said and without contact? Then you heard random shooting outside?'

Eddie's blood ran cold at the thought and knuckles white as he gripped the sheets beneath him. If he was in your shoes, a search party would be out and he'd be sick with worry.

'That's what I thought,' you mutter as you see the look on his face. 'You wouldn't let me ever leave without an escort again.'

It's true, he'd never let you leave his side.

'I thought you were...' your facade and your voice finally cracks, 'I've never been so scared in my life!'

Irritated that your mask has slipped, you stomp forward to Eddie. With all the anger in your body, you shove your lean fiancée, causing him to fall backwards on the bed. Eddie stays lying there, not wanting to look up and catch you sniffling. He doesn't want to make it worse. His heart cracks hearing what he's done to you, especially on what is supposed to be a happy day. Especially when you'd clearly planned something for his return.

He clears his throat, wanting to ensure he gets his words out perfectly.

'Kitten, I know. You never would've done this to me. I'm so sorry. What can I do? How do I fix it?'

There's only silence for a little while but he keeps his eyes trained to the white ceiling. Then, he feels your hand hovering on his knee.

'Turn over,' you say firmly but quietly.

Eddie lets out a confused mumble but does as he's told. Right now, if you told him to eat his own shoes, he would. Then, he feels you take an ankle, lifting it so you can begin to take off his boot. Once it's off, he kicks off the other himself. He gulps then, truly unwitting over your plans. Your hands now tug at the waist of his slacks, nails scratching at his back. In attempt to aid you, he raises his hips and undoes his belt and buttons, allowing you to slide them off.

He hears the sound of his eyelashes flutter against the duvet as he blinks, anxiously. Are you just getting him ready for bed? He would like to just go to sleep in your arms right now. Whisper he's sorry and he loves you until you both fall asleep. But that's not what is going to happen.

No, that's definitely not going to happen, Eddie realises suddenly. As before he can even process, you've quickly tugged down his underwear, and have cracked down your palm against his ass cheek. Eddie gasps.

'You're going to feel how angry I am, Eddie,' you say so calmly that a trail of goosebumps prickle down his spine.

'I'm going to do to you, what you would've done to me in this situation... and you're going to take it.'

Crack. You hit his cheek again.

'Do you understand?'

'Yes, kitten,' he barely whispers. He's scared, confused and aroused. Never, ever, have you done this to him before but he doesn't dare protest.

'Good,' your palm soothes over the attacked cheek. It's barely blushing, your own hand nothing in comparison to Eddie's own sprawling ones. He widens his legs so you can stand further between them. He knows right now, he just needs to let you do what you need to do.

Crack. Crack. Eddie gasps. Crack. The fear, surprise and arousal mixed together is intoxicating. His heart is in his throat and his palms are sweating. Each smack, full of raw emotion, sends a zap through his body.

'That's five, Eddie... I'm going to do thirty.'

Eddie's eyes widen.

'If you're going to act like this, at your age now, then I'm going to give you a present deserving of it. So, twenty five to go.'

He's not sure he can last that long in silence, without crying out your name or moaning or worse, popping a boner whilst you're angry. Then, he feels a dip on the bed alongside him. For the first time since you shoved him, he dares to steal a glance at you. Your eyes are dark and looking back at him.

'You should probably sit across my knee. It'll make this easier for everyone,' your voice is unwavering. This new stern side to you is equal parts unnerving and sexy.

Eddie scrambles to his feet quickly and stands before you. You look him up and down, infuriatingly, he looks so good. You'd thought that when he left the house and you couldn't wait to throw yourself at him upon his return. But he ruined it. Now he's just there, a sheepish look on his face, shirt still on but his cock out. You had planned to ride it until you both collapsed, but now plans have been spoilt.

'Take your shirt off and get over my knee,' you sigh. Your voice sounds so uninterested, it makes Eddie's heart pang. He wants to get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention and forgiveness. Desperate to smother you in kisses.

However, he does as he's told. A shiver rippling through him as he rids himself of the shirt. Anxiously, he walks to the side of you and clambers onto the bed and then spreads himself over your lap. He wiggles, following your guidance to get his lap perfectly across your thighs.

'Baby, is this right? Do you need to me to move more?' Eddie asks, desperate to please you.

'S'fine,' you say casually.

But there's nothing casual about the gasp that escapes him as your fingers trail down his back. Small circles drawn into the dimples above his ass. Then one hand trails down to the top of his thigh and rests, whilst another stays on his asscheek. There's nothing for a moment and Eddie feels his heart racing and the anticipation. Until, he feels your soft lips place a peck on the one cheek you'd struck. It gives him butterflies knowing you still want to give him gentle loves.

'That's nice... thank you, baby,' his voice sounds smaller than ever before.

'S'okay, Eds. I'm gonna go again now, okay?'

He nods. Your hand smooths over the untouched cheek, stealing a squeeze.

'This one needs to catch up, hmm?' You coo. Oh god, he thinks, you're playing with him now. Like a cat with a mouse.

Five sharp, consecutive slaps, crack down against the porcelain skin. Each jolting Eddie and causing him to gasp. You squint, wondering if part of him actually enjoys this. So you test the theory.

'Nineteen,' you say.

Then, the hand smacks down, harder than ever before. Hard enough that he knows there's a mark.

'Eighteen!'

This one even harder, your hand clearly coming down from quite a distance. The jolt from the force causes his cock to flop between the gap of your thighs.

'Seventeen! Sixteen!'

Smack. Smack. Both as hard as the last. There's no denying it hurts, but it's also good. Eddie feels good that you're punishing him for scaring you. It satisfies the shame he feels and his body knows it because his cock springs to life. Rock hard now between your soft thighs.

'You're fucking hard?' You scoff, turning the cheeks on his face, not just his ass, bright red. 'Do you not understand that I'm angry? This isn't for your pleasure! Fifteen!'

'Oh fuck,' Eddie cries. Fifteen was the hardest yet and it pushed his body down, causing your thighs to tug at his cock.

'You're sick, Eddie. Getting off on this...' you rake your nails down his back now, causing more moans from him.

'Do you like it? Facing the consequences of your actions for once, baby?' You snarl. Your hands have now reached the base of his neck and tug at some hair there.

'Yes, yes,' he wines. He can't stop himself, he thrusts into your thighs some more. Fucking himself between your plush skin. You're genuinely shocked.

'Oh my god... you really are getting off on this, hmm? Engaged and I'm still learning new things about you. My dirty boy, hmm. Ready for more?'

Panting from thrusting at your thighs, Eddie nods.

'Okay, you asked for it...'

Fourteen. Thirteen. Twelve. Eleven. Ten. Each one is quick, sharp and alternates between each cheek. Eddie snaps his hips, jerking his throbbing cock off in time with your hits. Your own panties are soaked at seeing your big, scary, mafia boss, so desperate and pathetic.

Eddie whelps something you don't make out. You pinch the skin of his hip and ask him to repeat.

'The belt, the belt,' he cries, 'god, please use the fucking belt!'

Your face scrunches up, wondering if he really just said what you think. But before you can process, you feel him shift. His arm stretches out down to the floor. Your questions are answered when he thrusts the belt he had holding his slacks up, behind his back and into your hands.

Oh, you gasp internally, he really fucking wants this bad.

Tauntingly, you brush the smooth leather across his skin.

'You feel that bad, huh? Understand just how angry I am, Edward?'

'Yes, kitten, please...' he cries, 'please show me.'

At first you hesitate, not wanting to do some serious damage. Folding the belt in half, you bring down the looped end against his bright pink cheek. Nine. The sound is heavier than any your palm could make but you know the sensation is even harsher.

Eddie groans in frustration and shakes his head. He wants it worse.

You tighten your grip and bring it down harder. Eight. Instantly there's lines imprinted on his skin from the edges of the belt. But it's clear that's what he wanted, as his hips thrust ferociously and you feel precum trickling down your calf.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Eddie is crying your name, fists white knuckling the bed linen. His skin has transformed from magenta to blooms of purple.

'Just five more and then it's the big 3-0, okay?'

He's barely paying attention, so lost in the high, continuously fucking himself in your thighs. You take the belt to the other cheek now.

Four. A warning spank. You lean down and press a kiss each cheek. This is it.

'Say'

Three.

'You're'

Two.

'Fucking'

One.

'Sorry!'

Eddie's cock spurts his load all down your legs as he cries.

'I'm sorry, I'm sorry kitten, I'm so fucking sorry!'

His body trembles on you at the aftershock of such intense touch. Another load of cum squirts out. He sobs real tears, you can tell, into the sheets.

'Kitten. I'm sorry, m'sorry, love you s'much,' he whimpers.

You let both your hands soothingly rub his back and thighs and you lean down to presses kisses to his ass. Perfect porcelain now splattered in purples and pinks.

'I know, Eds. It's why it upset me so much. You're never reckless like that... I wanted you home. Was supposed to be perfect when you got home...'

Eddie can hear that the anger is gone and now there's just a soft sadness in your voice. Ignoring the ache in his backside, he crawls off you, sliding onto the floor. Slotting himself between your thighs as he rests on his knees. Capturing your hands, he kisses them.

'Let me make it up to you, sweetheart,' he pleads. Big brown eyes, red from tears and begging. Letting go of your hands, Eddie takes your knees and pushes them further apart. He reveals his cum still dripping from you thighs. Leaning in, eyes still looks at you, he kitten licks his own spend up.

'You shouldn't have let me cum,' he mumbled against the velvety skin at the apex of your thighs.

'Should've forced me to make you cum, over and over and over... so that's what I'm gonna do.'

You just nod and let Eddie take over. He tugs your soaked panties off.

'These were so cute, kitten. I didn't deserve them,' he sucks at the wet crotch, 'daddy was so bad but now daddy will make it up to you. I promise.'

With that, Eddie dives into your folds. Lapping up the wetness that's been gathering like he had his own cum. That alone makes you sigh, so much of the tension leaving your body. Bringing your thighs over his shoulder, he buried his face further to access to your clit. Latching onto it the moment he finds it. Sucking until you squirm.

'That's it,' he sighs, his voice happy now, 'going to make my girl feel better.' He punctuates each word with a soft kiss to your bud.

It's all parts feral and tender and causes your tense body to flop back onto the bed. Eddie is shortly quick to chase you. With your thighs round his neck, he guides you to lie back against the pillows so he can completely lie down and lose himself in your cunt.

Now his body is fully relaxed, he makes out with your pussy. Going from sucking your clit to lapping at your hole.

'That's so good, Eds,' you coo, hand twisting curls round your fingers. Now, Eddie knows he's on his way to forgiveness.

Forcing your legs a little further, he goes in for the kill. Using the move he knows always makes you crumble. He sucks both his thumbs, letting one come up to toy with your clit and the other drops to press against your tight asshole.

The concentration alone sobers Eddie up. He hears you gasp and cry his name as the thumbs circle each pleasure point. Then he lets his tongue fuck into your hole unrelentingly. Faster. Faster. Your thighs are squirming but Eddie won't stop until you get the release you deserve. The wiggling results into his thumb popping into your asshole causing your hips to jerk and your hand to rip at his hair.

'Jesus fuck, Eddie,' you sob, tears erupting at the overwhelming sensation.

Eddie plunges his tongue as far as he can, along with his thumb in your ass and then tears aren't the only thing erupting. Your little cunt spasms, squirt soaking his tongue and face. Your whole body left trembling as you gasp. Eddie doesn't let on that it causes him to cum against the bedsheets where he'd be gently rubbing himself against.

Wiping his face and licking his fingers clean, Eddie smiles at your fucked out frame.

'That is the best birthday present you can ever get me, kitten.'

Leaving you to catch your breath, he gets up and waddles over to the light switch. His sore cheeks definitely limiting his movements more than the alcohol ever did. The bedside lamp keeps the room in a soft glow as he turns the main light off.

Slowly, he climbs under the covers and into bed next to you.

'Is it... is it okay if I hold you now, Y/N?' Eddie's voice is soft but nerve filled. You turn and look at him, chocolate eyes full of worry still. Nodding, you shuffle under the duvet and into his waiting arms. Lying in a way that you can both look at each other.

'I love you and I'm sorry. I can't imagine how scared you must've been. We got carried away,' he sighs, stroking fallen strands out of your face. Leaning forward, you press a soft kiss to his chewed lips. He melts into you instantly, soul settling to be fully reunited with yours.

'Just... don't do something like that again or I won't let you make it to thirty,' you smile against his lips.

Eddie pulls back and looks at you, wide eyed in shock. 'You see us being 60 together?'

His response makes your brow furrow.

'Yes? Obviously, you silly boy? Eds... I'm marrying you in just a couple of months.' You laugh, pressing another few kisses to his lips. When you look back, his cheeks are flushed like his backside.

'Doesn't seem real still. Don't know how I made it this long, but you wanting to marry me? S'the most unbelievable part...'

You shake your head.

'Best get believing. You're about to experience a week long love fest...'

Eddie cocks his head in confusion and you lean up to peck his cute round nose.

'I think we'll have to bring your ruined ass a cushion though for the journey... filthy boy,' you chuckle causing Eddie to groan and bite his lip.

But your words must finally hit him. Releasing you from his hold, he now waves his arms maddeningly in confusion.

'What the hell, what's going on, woman!'

You chuckle to yourself, knowing you're finally about to pull off a surprise on him. Even at 30, the love of your life, Eddie Munson, still doesn't know how spectacular he is. But it's okay, you've got the rest of your lives to show him.

did you enjoy that? i bet you did, you sick fucks x

#funsonsbdaygame #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #Eddie munson x female reader #enam3ls rockstar eddie

869 notes · View notes

enam3l · 2 years ago

Text

agHhHhhHGhhhGhhhHHHb my heart

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄

A/N: she's finally here!!! this was initially supposed to be a one shot but has kinda turned into a draft up of a pretty plotless, sweet, fluffy mini series. it follows canon for the most part minus eddies death ofc but because im bad with canon lore and science shit, its not heavily mentioned (some minor canon lore was changed but it's not super important.) this is a fem!reader, no use of y/n, set in 1992, 4k words, and i've kept reader pretty vague for inclusivity minus some background lore. this series is not 18+ (yet) but my page is, so please do not follow if you are a minor.

thank you sweet baby mona @enam3l for beta-reading for me (ily)

Eddie Munson liked his life. He liked his friends, even if a lot of them have now dispersed across the continental United States for school, jobs, general life (minus Robin who has somehow managed to make her way to Australia doing God knows what.) He liked his home, a house on the edge of town – slightly bigger than the old trailer – which he still shared with his uncle. He liked his style and hobbies and taste in music and movies that haven’t really changed much in the last 5 years since his final senior year.

He really liked his job.

Which felt odd for him to admit to himself.  It wasn’t anything like what he thought he would be doing. A younger Eddie Munson would imagine himself traveling city to city, adored by fans, living creatively and free spirited. 

But a middle school janitorial gig kept him young. One could argue 26 wasn't even that old, however, compared to his friends (who he'd already been older than) with their careers, relationships and growing families, he felt like a lonely old man. So, yeah, the awkward, funny, and extremely honest pre-teens made him feel young. 

Initially he thought the job would be lonely. It’s a small town with even smaller schools. Besides him, there was only one other night janitor that he alternated weekend cleans with and only really ran into during day-to-night shift changes. Ron was nice enough, older than Wayne, with a far higher patience for children. Unsurprisingly, behaviours from high school died hard and the teachers and administrative staff all kept to their own little cliques. Resulting in Eddie keeping to himself, rarely speaking outside of his custodian duties or the occasional faculty meeting.

He didn’t even think he’d interact with the students aside from cleaning the odd vomit or getting stuck balls out of the gymnasium rafters. He unintentionally found himself yet again the outcasted mother goose to a small hoard of pre-teen metal heads when their unofficial leader, Matty Sherman, caught site of the various posters Ed keeps hung up on his office (custodial closet) door. The seventh grader quickly forcing himself under Eddies wings and refusing to budge. Matty was a good kid. Reminded Eddie a lot of himself at that age. He was loud, abrasive, and way too confident for such a gangly frame in ill-fitting clothes. Matty had hair though which 13-year-old Eddie couldn’t relate to.

There was also Ms. Virginia Wagner. The eccentric, nurse who has been working at Hawkins Middle since Eddie was attending. Maybe even before that, he wasn’t quite sure and whenever he asked anything close to finding out her age, she quickly shut him down. She was sweet. She was funny. She was also a mean old hag sometimes, but God did Eddie love that about her. If he was just 20 - or more realistically 40 - years older and wasn’t almost certain she swings the other way, he’d shoot his shot. 

The Summer season was extremely uneventful for Eddie. Due to the kids being out of school, his hours were cut in more than half with only the yearly repairs and deep cleaning needing to be done. He went into work about 3 days a week, spending the extra free time to do some manual labour gigs here and there around town. When he wasn’t working, he was hidden away at home watching movies, listening to music, trying to plan out ongoing and future campaigns for Hellfire meetings that have begun to be fewer and far between now that everyone has dispersed. On some rare occasions when he didn’t feel like a complete shell of a person and was able to leave the house to socialize outside of life obligations, he met up with the few friends that remained in the Hawkins area (which at this point in time was really only Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson.)

It was now the Monday of the week before students would return back to these fluorescent lit halls. That meant all other faculty were now gracing the school to prepare for the year ahead. Organizing and prepping and finalizing lesson plans and class rosters. 

Eddie had a slight pep in his step as he walked through the halls, scuffed up sneakers squeaking on the shiny, extra polished tiles. He whistled a silent tune that clashed with the jingles of his keys that he swung around his middle finger. Getting to the janitors closet to put on his navy coverall and put his hair into a low bun. He zips up the stiff material, covering the self-altered muscle tank top that had the logo for some local band down in Indianapolis he saw a few years back before things went to shit. A cracked and stained mirror hanging up over his work sink being used to make sure his hair looked casually messy in the bun. With a final once over, he hooks his keys to the belt loop of his coveralls and preps for the day's work. A glance at his wristwatch, the one that has somehow survived hell and back just like him, reads 7:58. Just 4 hours and 2 minutes until lunch. 

He couldn’t wait.

Eddie used those 4 hours and 2 minutes to check each stall in all bathrooms were fully stocked with toilet paper and the likes, clean the actual toilets themselves, and make sure the water was running properly in every sink. Once that was taken care of, he began on his biggest task of the week of dragging desks and chairs out of the back storage building to be put into classrooms. Sheryl from the administrative team having left the small packet of papers indicating how many seats each room would need for the coming year. 

He could move the chairs in stacks at a time but could only really stack two - maybe three if he was careful - desks on his hand truck before it became a safety problem. Once moved into the main building, he had to wipe them down, tighten any loose screws that could make them wobble, and make sure they were still in usable condition. Eddie had completed almost 3 of the 32 classrooms before lunch finally rolled around. 

He grabbed his lunch sack from the custodial closet and whistled on his merry way to the nurse's office. He’s been eating lunch with Virginia for as long as he can remember. Of course, there was those 5 years of High School and then the year of recovery following the events of his second senior year, and the summer breaks of course, but besides all those he’s been eating with her for a good 7 years. 

This ritual beginning in his 6th grade, the first year he moved in with Wayne, all sad eyed and past aside due to events outside of his control. Kids he had grown up with suddenly not wanting anything to do with him. He wouldn’t really make any friends again until 7th grade, and his first band of misfits was created, Corroded Coffin. 6th Grade was the worst year of his life until 1986 and now it’s about tied. 

Sadly, in middle school who you ate a meal with or gave the time of day too was so integral into maintaining the hierarchal balance of the ecosystem. It was bullshit. With everything that happened that lead to his father going to jail and him burdening his uncle, the kids of Hawkins middle school decided Eddie wasn’t worth risking their own reputations. He doesn’t remember exactly how it happened, his brain kicking the memory out at some point to make room for more important stuff like D&D lore. But he does remember he went from eating lunch in the bathroom to eating it in Nurse Wagner’s office. 

Even after being integrated back into the Middle school social circle, he couldn’t just leave her to eat lunch by herself. She needed him with his alternative music education and retelling of the fantasy books he’d been reading lately and his strong headedness that could keep up with her dry and sarcastic quips many interpreted as rudeness. Although Eddie would still refuse to admit it, in actuality he probably needed her more than she needed him.

He doesn’t knock, just moseys his tall frame into the nurse's office, wide dimpled smile on his lips as he hears rummaging coming from the actual office area that was blocked off by a wall. He looks at the two plastic-y beds covered in paper sheets, inhaling that antiseptic smell that can only seem to be found in medical settings. No fluorescent lights were on, only natural light being let it from the two big windows. 

There are curtains on them now which surprises him. Floral pinks and yellows with lace on the edge that really fit the grandma vibes Virginia has but refused to acknowledge. The windows all have blinds, but curtains were deemed a non-necessary commodity by the school board budgeting team, meaning if you wanted curtains, you’re gonna have to fork money out of pocket for them. Eddie had asked Virginia about it once, commenting about how it would help spruce up the place. Make it look a little less sterile. She told him to go to hell, that she’s a nurse not rich. Any out-of-pocket money she spent on work only going towards things that actually matter, like the allergen friendly laundry detergent and the nicer, name brand candy for the candy bowl.

Putting his lunch on the side table of the first bed, he lays down in a relaxed position. Hands behind his head, legs crossed, eyes closed, he lets out a relaxed sigh.

“Virginia, dear, I really love what you’ve done with the place,” he calls out to her, hearing the close of the filing cabinet and footsteps soon following, “feels all homey now, dontcha think.”

The footsteps stop.

“I'm glad you like them. You feelin’ comfy there?”

That was most definitely not Virginia Wagners voice.

Eddie jolts up, eyes wide and cheeks red. He’s not one to get embarrassed easily but since recent events he’s been a bit more reserved in how comfortable he gets around strangers. And you were most definitely a stranger. A pretty stranger. A very pretty stranger in a teddy bear patterned scrub top and an oversized cardigan with embroidered sunflowers. You’re a disorienting mess of patterns and colors but you’re also, like, really pretty and Eddie isn’t sure how to go about this.

“You’re not Virginia,” is all he can get his voice to come out with.

“I’m not Virginia.” You give a chuckle. A positive response, Eddie thinks.

“Where’s Virginia?”

Eddie is now standing away from the bed and closer to the door, ready to run from the situation if needed (something he’s learned to embrace in the last few years.) You give him a friendly smile, hands in your cardigan pockets, the sleeves bunched up. You look cozy. 

“Florida. She’ll be in the Caribbean by the end of the month,” you supply. He can tell your fingers are fidgeting in your pockets. His hands are fidgeting at his waist, pinching at the material of his coveralls. 

“Why?”

You shrug your shoulders, “Retirement.”

“Oh,” Eddie sighs, eyes breaking contact with yours for the first time since standing, shifting to look at your white - almost pristine - sneakers on the tile floor her spent all summer mopping and waxing and removing scuff marks from. “That sucks.”

You snort. Teeth biting your bottom lip to stop from laughing at him further during this awkwardly endearing meeting. Your own eyes looking him over now that he isn’t completely focused on you. He’s cute. His cheeks stained your favourite shade of pink once he realized you weren’t the now retired nurse he had been so fond of. Hands covered in jewlery. His inability to stay still so natural it makes you think he doesn’t even realize he’s been shifting his body weight back and forth from his toes to his heels this whole time. Tall, lean, maybe with some extra fluff hidden under the baggy attire. He’s got some shadow of hair on his cheeks. And if you weren’t a civil person and he wasn’t a stranger, you’d be begging to kiss at the column of his throat.

Your gaze moves to look around the waiting part of the office to avoid thinking even more things about this guy. A brown paper bag chicken scratched with the words ‘ED LUNCH’ catches your eye. Before you have a chance to speak yourself, he starts his interrogation again.

“Who are you?”

Your attention cuts back to him quickly. With a smile that shows all your teeth and a hand leaving your pocket, held out for him to shake, you give your full name.

He takes it with his own reserved smile. His hands and rings are warm, but they still tingle your skin from the unfamiliarity of the metal. You enjoy it you think. Before he can introduce himself, you beat him to the punch.

“You must be Edward, right?”

He grimaces, “Just Eddie,” your handshake falls. His hand back to his hip and your hand back into your pocket, “Just Eddie is fine. More than fine, actually. Preferred, really.”

Another chuckle from you. Eddie knows he’s funny when he wants to be but if it’s this easy to make you laugh, he doesn’t ever want to stop.

“Well, just Eddie,” you smirk at his eye roll, “you can join me for lunch if you’d like. I feel like my presence may have ruined your initial plans,” you let out a huff of a laugh and gesture to the lunch sack by the window. He grimaces again at your wording and shakes his head.

“It didn’t ruin any plans just was shocking ‘sall,” his hand moves from his hip to rub at his slightly scruffy chin, pretty brown eyes back on yours, “but um, yeah. Yes, I’d love- like to join you for lunch.”

You smile. He smiles back.

Eddie has sat in this chair, in this office, and eaten his lunch for years. Today it feels awkward and unfamiliar. 

It might have something to do with you sitting where Virginia used to sit. Same chair, same desk, same office, but completely different. Virginia didn’t decorate her space, leaving it functional and impersonal, if people wanted to know about her life they could ask her. She wasn’t going to flaunt it. 

You were very different. An orange, gaudy looking vase filled with fake flowers. A matching candy bowl with various sugary, little treats. A picture frame of you and what he could only assume was your family based on the similar features shared between each person. A decorated Coke can with the top cut off and trimmed with glued on lace and covered in holographic stickers of vibrant cartoon animals, sparse enough to still see the iconic red drink logo, was now holding an assortment of colorful gel pens. 

Even the chair wasn’t safe from your interior decorating, a purple knitted blanket folded over the top of the rolling seat. The seat itself now adorning a red, white, and black cushion of an ugly faced bulldog with a spiked color and cap with the letter G, the words ‘GEORGIA BULLDOGS’ splayed above him. A sports team he assumed. 

The conversation hadn’t started back up since the introduction in the sick room. Both of you taking your respective seats in the office area, opening your lunch bags and digging in. 

Eddie being a creature of habit brought his usual bag of pretzels, a can of Pepsi, and a sandwich made of whatever he could find in the kitchen. Today it was two slices of whole wheat, mayo, lettuce, the last piece of deli ham, and shredded cheese. 

Your own lunch seemed much more put together. For starters, you had an actual lunchbox, a bulky and vibrant plastic thing with Snoopy sleeping on his dog house on the front. Inside, there was your own ziploc bag of green grapes, a can of Coke, and a sandwich cut into triangles. White bread, crunchy peanut butter, and grape jelly. A Little Debbies Swiss Rolls pack sitting on the corner of your desk for dessert.

He’s mid chew on the final bite of his sandwich, half his Pepsi left, his pretzels being the first thing devoured, when you speak up. Your own sandwich having on triangle section left, grapes gone, and Coke untouched.

“Have you always lived in Hawkins?”

You’re wiping your mouth with a folded paper towel, curious eyes focused on him. You’re very good at that, he’s realized. Eye contact. Focusing on your center of attention. Eddie has never been good at it, having to remind himself to look at the person talking to him. It’s polite, Wayne would say, shows people you’re listening and interested in what they have to say. Eddie gets so worked up in remembering to seem focused, he loses it and doesn’t hear what’s being said. He hasn’t had that problem with you so far. He thinks he could look at and listen to you all day if you let him.

“Born and bred,” he swallowed his bite and shrugs his shoulders, rubbing his hands together to get the crumbs off, “you’re not though, are you. Feel like I’d remember you,” he raises an eyebrow. Feeling a little more confident in himself, especially with the obvious signs of you not being a local, and gives a playful smirk.

“You got me,” you hold your hands up in mock surrender, moving your arms back to rest your elbows on the edge of the desk, “I’m from Georgia.”

Eddie nods, the seat cushion making sense now. It’s your home team for… sports. A sport. Probably football. Eddie mentally pats himself on the back for guessing it was a sports team. Good on him for knowing sports. (Eddie doesn’t know sports.)

“So,” Eddie lulls, small talk never being his forte. Much more interested in getting into the nitty gritty of conversation when interested in someone but he doesn’t know you yet. He needs to find something to relate with you on and he can’t do that with tidbits he may know from growing up in town like he could other people his age or older here. “You’re like a southern chick,” it was your turn to grimace. 

“You’re really bad at this,” you snort and shake your head, finishing up the last of your own sandwich. Tidying up your desk, throwing away the ziploc bag and sandwich wrapping and paper towels. Opening the coke can and moving the swiss rolls pack to in front of you, looking back to Eddie. With a tilt of your head and saccharine grin you ask, “Splitsies?”

He nods at the opportunity to get a sweet little treat before addressing your initial comment, “Small talk requires talking and I just don’t really do that anymore with people who don’t already know me or just have a preconceived idea of who I am,” he shrugs his shoulders again, voice softer, slight regret in being too real. Eyes watching your fingers open the package, folding another paper towel (which he has now realized are coming from a roll kept in the lowest drawer of your desk), and setting one of the processed roll cakes on the indented paper before placing it in front of Eddie’s seated and slouched body. “Thank you,” He looks back up to you and you’re already looking at him.

“Virginia told me a lot about you,” you smirk, lifting your own cake to take a bite. Your eyes not leaving his except for split a second to give an appreciative glance and hum to the cream filled ‘pastry.’

“We’ve been corresponding for months,” you snicker at your own use of the word, making you feel like some sort of 18th century countess or captain, rather than a young nurse taking over the position of an older nurse. 

He looks panicked at this reveal. Which is cute considering he had a bit of white cream on his upper lip. Although he looked so pretty when his brow furrowed, it was clear he was frightened so you were quick to reassure him.

“All good things, of course. I think she’s just worried about you. It’s cute, really, just really cute.” Another kind smile on your lips and your hand holding out the paper towel - his now eaten roll was sat on - as hint for him to clean his mouth off.

Eddie knew Virgina wasn’t one to gossip but the prospect of a rare new person in town he’s actually interested in, being privy to all his shit-uations without him telling them himself, scared him. But Virginia did love to meddle and that may be worse. She was a big supporter of Eddie needing friends his own age. 

Letting out a sigh of relief that his tragic history had yet to be exposed, Eddie returned your smile with his own half one. You reach into your desk again, pulling out a letter instead of paper towels this time. ‘Edward’ scrawled in a familiar, loopy handwriting with blue ink on the white envelope caught his eyes. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion and intrigue. 

You hold it out for him to take like it was something precious, “This is for you.” From Virginia, is unspoken but recognized between the both of you. Who else would it have been from. Eddie flushing as he realized, Virginia never told him about you. Virginia never even told Eddie she’d be leaving. They didn’t speak much, or really at all, during the summer unless they happened to run into each other outside of these brick walls. 

Callused finger pads grazed your palm when he took the letter from you, he kept his eyes focused on examining the letter. A sad smile on his lips appreciating the loops of the E and W and curves of the D’s. Realistically he knew Virginia probably wasn’t gonna be gone from Hawkins forever, she had roots here. A son. That’s son kid or maybe kids now, he wasn’t sure, hadn’t checked in on Rick since he got out of jail in ‘88. But it still hurt that she was gone, without a word, and was happy enough to talk to her replacement about him but not to him about her. You.

“I’m gonna read this later,” he mumbles and puts the offending but appreciated letter in his deep pocket. A quick glance at his watch read it’s been about an hour since making his way into the nurses office, lunch was over. He threw his trash out in the bin by your desk and gave you a friendly smile, standing from the seat in front of your desk.

“Maybe we could do this again sometime,” eyes shifting around the office again, not really taking things in, just needing to not get trapped back into your gaze. “Ya know, with my lunches free now and everything,” he humorlessly chuckles.

“Eddie,” you spoke softer than you had before, a more sympathetic smile on your lips, “I’d really like that.”

He looks at you now. You have really shiny eyes. What a weird observation, Eddie thinks, but it’s true. With a quick wave of his hand before retreating them back into his pocket, fingers playing with the paper edges of Virginias letter. He begins his trek out the door. 

“Hey, next time though,” he stumbles in a spin to walk backwards while speaking, “We’ll speak more about you than about me. Feel’s like you know too much about me,” he huffs with a smug smile before spinning back to look forward. “See ya, Peach.”

Your sweet laughter follows him out into the hall. You call out, “See ya, Eddie,” to his retreating back, watching the door long after he’s left. 

“Peach,” you snort and shake your head, teeth tugging on your bottom lip to stop from smiling too wide.

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enam3l · 2 years ago

Text

the godparents (rockstar eddie x reader)

a follow up to baby fever!

4.4k words / PG friendly / fluff / angst /

CW: pregnancy/fertility and it's downsides, if pregnancy is a sensitive topic for you, i'd skip this one!

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

Eddie doesn't have a clue what you're saying. Your mouth is moving but all he hears is blood rushing past his ear canal. That's basically the only thing he's been able to hear for the past two months. Only vaguely observing his surroundings as he stays stuck in his own head, raging with thoughts and questions. Stuck this way ever since his best friend, Steve Harrington and his partner Marissa had their firstborn. The moment he held Rob Harrington, he was screwed. As Steve had put it 'Eddie Munson has baby fever.'

Actually, Eddie had caught the fever the moment he first saw you interact with a child. A desire to have children awoken but only with you. He'd managed to sit on this secret for a few years now but ever since the gang's latest addition, the fever has raged. Ultimately, he knows now he has to confess to you about what plagues him. Really, Eddie knows he should've mentioned it somewhere between realising he wanted kids and asking you to marry him. But, in his defence, you've never mentioned them and it wasn't worth the risk of losing you.

Each day the secret burns harsher. Now, Eddie sits, on the edge of the bed in his Hawkin's home with a gormless look on his face as he watches you. You're flittering around the bedroom in a pretty, expensive dress, worrying about today. Today was Rob Harrington's Christening. Today Eddie became a godfather and you became a godmother. Subtract one word and his dreams would be coming true.

It's a tug round his neck that brings him back down to earth. You're stood between his legs, tying his tie carefully. Only you know how to do it right, nice and loose, stopping him from feeling like he's choking or looking like a real adult. You tuck the curtain of hair he's trying to hide under, behind his ears.

'You okay, baby? You've been real quiet,' you hum with concern.

He blinks, totally dazed by you. The way your pretty face looks at him all wide eyed and full of love. Oh god, he hopes your kids look like you. He wants to be endlessly tormented by an army of your mini clones.

'Yeah, yeah, sweet, I'm good, I'm...' good lord, Munson, think of an excuse, 'just nervous about today.'

You sit on his lap and kiss the round tip of his nose. He could stay sat like this, being loved on by you forever.

'Oh god, did you have the dream where the priest dropped Rob in the water again because I promise that won't hap-'

Eddie cuts you off with a shake of his curls, although, that dream had been bothering him.

'S'just a big day, isn't it,' he shrugs.

You nod in agreement, thumbs soothing over his freckled cheeks.

'Mhmm, we're gonna be godparents. That's like being appointed to be an aunt and uncle by God... or something?'

Eddie chuckles and softly kisses your lips. Neither of you were exactly religious. Honestly, neither were Steve and Marissa but it just felt like one of those things you're supposed to do. After everything the boys had seen and been through, putting a good word in with the Big Man (or whatever exists) felt like a good precaution.

After speckling his face in a few more gentle kisses, you hopped off Eddie's back and returned to fretting. The Christening present, you had now wrapped and unwrapped several times, was back in your hands.

'Do you think it's okay? I mean will he like it? I know he's too young for it at the moment but when he is old enough?'

You'd chosen the present. With some plotting, Eddie had managed to swipe the signet ring Steve always wore with his initials inscribed. Then, you had it replicated with Rob's initials instead.

'Yes! Sweetheart, it's perfect. More than perfect. It'll make Harrington cry like a baby!'

The thought made you giggle. Steve had been a hormonal wreck ever since Marissa had gotten pregnant. It reached the point where his mood swings outdid the ones of his actually pregnant partner. Eddie knew his reassuring had worked once he saw your body relax. Now, you returned to ensuring not a hair was out of place. Your hair was pulled away from your perfect face that looked fresh with effortless make up. The straps of your dress tied in bows over your shoulders, revealing the expanse of the delicate skin that covered your collar bones. The only downside had been the ban imposed against Eddie marking you up. But, now he saw you stood there before him, it was clear his sacrifice was worth it. The structured silk bodice fitting you perfectly then flowing down just near your knees. It wasn't often he saw you in things so glamorous but soft; it made his heart fizz thinking this was almost a taste of how you'd look on the wedding day that was just a month away.

The church was crammed with Steve and Marissa's loved ones who'd travelled from all over the country to celebrate baby Robert. Attending events like these made Eddie nervous ever since he was outcast kid however now he sticks out more so. He saw the way attendees eyes gazed at the boy of the hour, cradled in his parents arms. Then their eyes would flicker to Eddie - who stood beside them at the altar - and do that classic squint. The do-I-know-him-from-somewhere-oh-wait-is-that-the-one-from-that-noisy-band squint. It was something he never found flattering, always embarrassing. It was one of the first things he'd thought about when Steve had asked him to be godfather; the gawping and whispers taking away from the special day. But Steve and Marissa would have no such thing, aside from Robin and Marissa's oldest brother, there was no one more perfect for godparents.

So Eddie stood at the altar as that became official. Forever grateful you were by his side and understanding his nerves without ever mentioning it. Soft hand gripping his, thumb rubbing calming circles onto his skin. The whole process of baptism was still a little baffling for him. For one, he was unsure why Rob had been forced into what looked like the wedding dress of a small Victorian ghost. Also, he'd kind of lost track of what was going on once he stepped inside the church - just thankful he hadn't gone up in flames. But luckily, he had you. Now, Eddie felt a small tug on his hand as you guided him to where the priest, Rob, Steve, Marissa, her brother and Robin all stood around a little bath of water.

'Are they going to do the spell now?' Eddie whispered in your ear as the priest set up.

His question had clearly been overheard by Robin who stifled a snort whilst you batted him for misbehaving.

'It's not a spell, I explained this to you! You're such a heathen, Munson,' you mouthed back. Quite enough to not disturb the ceremony before you but loud enough that Eddie could hear the tone in your voice that said you better behave, Mister.

Yet, despite his original confusion and gentle mockery, Eddie found himself getting transfixed by the ritual. The soothing recital of prayers by the priest as he dipped a thumb into some ointment and proceeded to mark a cross on Rob's head. Eddie smiled to himself watching as Rob looked around, wide amber eyes just like his dad's, a little confused but pleased to be surrounded by his favourite people.

Then, at the big moment when Rob's waft of hair was wetted, Eddie felt himself quietly gasp in awe with the rest of the room. Knowing the small action symbolised something big. When a small sob began to croak from Rob over the water, Eddie felt himself jerk forward - a built in reaction to protect his godson. Clearly, you felt his movements too as you tugged him back. Soothing Eddie with soft strokes to his arms, mirroring Marissa's to her own son. He felt himself calm as he watched you mouth along to the prayer. A smile on your face and a twinkle in your eye watching your now official godson be swaddled by his parents. Eddie followed your gaze, longingly wishing the pair of you were in Steve and Marissa's position with your own baby. He should've known today would've been more of a struggle than he previously thought.

Finally, the priest announced Robert Harrington as an official mini member of the Church, protected by you and Eddie. The crowd clapping and sniffling at the momentous event. Quickly, the pair of you were shuffled closer with Rob, Steve, Marissa and your fellow godparents, for an array of photographs whilst in the church. A sense of pride filled Eddie as he looked at the beaming grin of his best friend, knowing he'd been part of this moment.

As Rob's gummy little smile was directed at Eddie, he couldn't deny that he was proud of himself as well. Proud that despite everything, his own shambolic upbringing and opportunities to go off the rails, he had ended up being someone people would trust to care for their child. And Eddie couldn't deny that he was good at it and actually wanted to do it. Looking after Rob, hell, even the kids when they were still his little sheepies, gave him a sense of accomplishment unmatched by even being on stage. He couldn't hide it anymore, Eddie Munson knew he would be an amazing Dad and the secret could no longer be contained.

'Let's get one of him with his favourite aunt and uncle!' Steve had cheered, earning an outraged cry from Robin.

A little wriggly Rob Harrington was placed in your arms as the photographer positioned you both. Your fiancé stood behind you, head resting against yours as little fat grabby hands reached up to the pair of you.

'It's a big day for you, mister, huh? Are you excited to get spoilt rotten?' You cooed, slipping a finger into Rob's grasp.

The other fist remained unsatisfied, still reaching out, desperate to grab a ringlet of Eddie's hair. A fascination he'd had since birth.

'You wanna play with your uncle's hair again? We've got to take our pictures first, cutie. I know, I know, I love playing with his hair too,' you giggled.

You looked back, searching for a response from Eddie. Expecting him to be pulling a ridiculous face at his godson but you were met by a blank, dazed look. Inside, Eddie was screaming. Watching you baby Rob so effortlessly. That sweet little voice that was reserved only for him. The way Rob looked so lovingly from you to him, to you again. Eddie wanted, no needed, his own little baby to gaze at you two like that. It had to happen, it was too perfect. Fate was tempting him, giving him a taster of what he could have. Torturing him by having you stood there before him, looking so heavenly in that damn dress, loving that little boy so much. A picture perfect new family but it wasn't Eddie's own... not yet.

'Eds, baby, is everything alr-'

The words fall out as fast as his heart beats. He can't stop himself.

'I want us to have a baby!' Eddie blurts out. Your face drops but not a second passes before the photographer calls out

'Aaaand cheese!'

The bright flash stuns you both but it doesn't erase the way your face dropped. It definitely dropped. It's etch-a-sketched into Eddie's brain for all eternity now. He's not only just ruined a perfectly nice photograph, he's probably just ruined his relationship with his soulmate.

'So cute guys!' Marissa squeals as she approaches. Carefully lifting Rob out of your frozen arms.

'So we're gonna start heading over to the house now to have the part-' Marissa's instructions are interrupted by you.

'Uh, I've got to go. I'll be right back.' Suddenly you've reanimated and are fleeing down the aisles, dodging beloved great aunts and cousins and flying out the Church's exit. Eddie's heart sinks to the pits of his stomach.

'Ok...' Marissa stares wide eyed, 'so I have never seen her move that fast before...'

Now Steve appears beside a baffled Marissa and forlorn Eddie.

'What the hell was that about? Did someone tell her about the weird shrimp thing that Marissa's mom made us put in the buffet?' He scoffs. Marissa shins him.

'Don't say hell! You've just baptised your son! We're in a church, Steven!'

As he rubs at his now aching shin, Steve sees a lost look on his best friend's face he's rarely seen since '86.

'Eddie, man... what's going on?'

The frozen look on Eddie's face suddenly cracks and he crumbles before the couple.

'I think I fucked up real bad,' he sobs.

Marissa finds you back at the Harrington household, curled up in her en-suite. When you fled the church, you took Eddie's car and made your way to the house where the after party would be. You'd hoped maybe you could compose yourself by the time everyone had arrived - you were wrong. Sobs had racked through you non stop for the last half hour. The look you had worked so hard on this morning, now totally disheveled. The fabric of your dress littered with tear drops, stray hairs floating from burying your face in a towel.

'Babe, it's Marissa,' she announces softly with a knock, 'can I come in?'

She takes the croak that comes out of you as a yes.

Instantly, she's on her knees and wrapping her arms around you. Hands gently stroking your hair as you sniff against her shoulder.

'What happened, Y/N? Are you okay?'

You cough, trying to clear your throat.

'D-did he not tell you?'

You felt awful leaving Eddie there, clueless. Sweet face dropped with eyes all wide and wet. But you couldn't process his words then and there, he'd blindsided you.

Marissa sighs, 'yeah, he did but I wanna know how you're doing. What's going on in that head of yours?'

Haphazardly, you shuffle away from Marissa's shoulder so the pair of you sit facing each other cross legged. Holding hands on the cool bathroom floor like you were back at a college house party. But you're not drunken college girls anymore, your friend is a mom and you're engaged.

'We were just taking the picture and he said - he just said, out of no where, he wants one... wants a baby,' you gasp on another sob trying to erupt.

Marissa nods waiting for you to continue.

'I didn't expect it. He's never - we've never...'

She squeezes your hand to stop you from falling into a fit of tears again.

'Would it be so bad... having a baby? You're soulmates, you're getting married next month. You'd be great parents.'

Although she means well, Marissa's words make you break again because she's right - Eddie would be an amazing parent. Any kid would be lucky to have him as a dad and he deserves to have everything he wants.

'No, no, it's just... god, I'm sorry, Marissa. I should speak to Eds first, god. Is he okay?' Your heart aches thinking of causing him distress, you know he'll be sick with worry.

'He's just...' Marissa sighs, 'he just wants to make sure you're okay. What do you wanna do, girl?'

You press your palms to your eyes. Inhale, exhale, repeat. Desperately trying to calm yourself.

'I'm ruining your guys day. It's a happy day. I'm making it sad... I'm failing godmother duties already,' you chuckle mournfully, 'let's go and have a good time for Rob. Mine and Eddie's drama can wait.'

Marissa takes your face in her hands, swiping at your tear stains.

'Are you sure, Y/N? We'd understand if you just want to go home?'

'I'm sure.'

The two of you pinky promise on the bathroom floor, maybe you were still slightly those college girls at heart. Marissa pulls you up onto your feet.

'Okay, trouble,' she smiles, 'but before anything, let's fix your make up. Steve's aunt is such a nosy cow, if she sees those tear stains, she'll be prying all night.'

When you come out of hiding and enter the bustling party, your eyes immediately scan for those big brown eyes. You find them gazing lovingly at baby Rob who Eddie is holding hostage outside on the decking. He looks so perfect like this, a baby in his arms. It's not making things easy for you.

'Hi, Eds,' you announce yourself softly.

He startles, eyes wide and cheeks flustered.

'S-sweetheart, you're back? Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have -'

You wave your hands in protest, trying to stop him before he gets lost rambling.

'I'm fine, I'm fine. I just...' sighing, you take a seat next to him, nerves stopping you from just falling into his arms like you want to. 'Let's just have a nice time for Steve and Marissa and little Rob here... we'll talk about it later, yeah?'

Eddie licks his lip nervously, a hesitant hand attempting to reach out to squeeze your knee. You take his hand in yours, his natural warmth taking over you. Really, you just want to curl up into him already.

'Urm, yeah. Alright sweetheart, whatever you want...'

Eddie's heart sinks throughout the day as he watches you put on a brave face. He knows when you're keeping your feelings locked up. It's impossible for him to ignore that not once does your smile reach your eyes. It eats him up inside that he's the reason you've shut down in a way he's never seen you do before. Repeatedly you find an excuse to slide your hand out of his, making up a reason to busy yourself. When the dance floor is filled, Eddie can't find you anywhere, not even for your favourite song. Even when it comes to the extravagant white frosted cake Marissa's mom made, it doesn't taste as sweet without you kissing off the frosting Eddie manages to smear over himself.

A part of him really thought his worst fears were just that life long self doubt toying with him. He didn't wholly believe the question of children would have you react like this. He's truly terrified he's done something he cannot take back.

Eddie picks at the leather of the steering wheel throughout the silent car ride. From his peripheral vision, he sees how your gaze never leaves the window. By the time he pulls into the driveway of your home, the silence is gnawing away at him. The worst case scenarios crippling him.

'Do you still want to marry me?' Eddie croaks.

The question cracks all your resolve and the waterworks start again.

'Eddie...' you gasp, 'of course! Nothing could stop me wanting you. I just don't know if I-'

No longer can he hold it all in, Eddie just needs you to know what he was thinking. Needs you to know it's you before anything.

'Sweetheart, I'm so sorry I just dropped it on you like that. I didn't mean to, it's just... I've been holding onto it for so long. Over the last two years, I never thought it but I want to be a dad but only with you! And we'd never discussed it so I never said anything. Then they had Rob and just seeing you with him. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry it was just too much. But it's only with you. Only if you want it too. I don't need to be a dad...'

Hearing Eddie scramble over his words always tells you when he's distressed. You'd been clueless this whole time that he felt this way and you feel awful for never noticing.

'I don't think I can, Eddie,' you all but whisper.

His face doesn't disguise how his heart clearly drops. She doesn't want kids. The clear disappointment on his face stings so much, you force yourself to look straight ahead through the window-screen. Straight at the home you have together, a home that would sound alive with the footsteps of little Munsons.

'I understand, I guess I should've asked sooner...' Eddie's sounds deflated. The enthusiasm that usually runs through his words, now completely drained away.

'No, you don't understand,' you blurt, 'I don't think I can have kids.'

If it wasn't for the blood rushing past his ears, Eddie would've thought your words just stopped time. Words fail him and he's barely able to muster a croak.

'Did you never notice how we've been together for five years and we've never even had a scare? Baby, we're not exactly safe... but you'd never mentioned kids so I just. I just pushed it away...' you mumble the last sentence, 'I told myself if you didn't want kids then there was no point stressing myself thinking about it.'

You look at the man you love and you feel sick. Heartbreak evident in his tear filled eyes and fallen face. Heartbreak that's your fault.

'Eddie, I'm so sorry. I should've said something. It's my -'

Eddie stops you before you take the blame. Shaking his head profusely before jumping out the parked car and running round to your side. He opens your door, frees you from the seat and wraps you in his arms. The pair of you sniffling into each other's warmth.

'Don't you dare apologise, sweetheart. Come on, please, let's go inside.'

You find yourselves stripped out of the day's formal clothes, seeking comfort in well worn items. Curled up, facing each other on the bed.

Eddie is the first to disturb the quiet.

'So, you had thought about having kids?'

You nod softly.

'Eddie Munson, I'd be stupid not to want to have your babies,' a sad laugh leaving you, 'I've seen how you are with people younger than you. Heard how you looked after Dustin and the gang. Seen how you are with little fans. Then when Rob came along... Eddie, how could I not? You'd be the most amazing dad. But you never mentioned it and with your own family... I just assumed it was an unspoken deal.'

Regardless of the sad circumstances, Eddie can't help but smile.

'You really wanted kids with me this whole time?'

You nod, taking his hand and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.

'And you wanted kids with me?' You return the question.

Eddie mimics your actions on your knuckles this time.

'Only with you,' he confesses, 'you're the only person in the world I could comprehend having a family with.'

The two of you smile weakly at each other. The beauty of your confessions so overshadowed by the sadness.

'I'd understand...' you begin, heart twinging at what you're about to say, 'if not being able to have kids was a deal breaker. You deserve to have everything you want, Eds.'

Immediately his brow furrows as if you were speaking gibberish.

'No!' He practically spits the words out, 'no, no, no! Never. No.'

Eddie pulls you into his arms, clutching your head into the crook of his neck.

'There is no future without you, sweetheart, you understand? I thought I just had the music and that was a sweet deal until you. Then I found myself for the first time picturing a real future for myself. A future kids like me never thought we got. It's always you before anything, do you understand?'

You nod into his neck. Inhaling the smell of home, something you'd never known until you met Eddie. He presses a firm kiss to the side of your head.

'We're gonna spend the rest of our lives together, regardless. Promise?'

'Promise,' you whisper into his skin, punctuating it with a kiss.

For a while you just hold each other, clinging to your whole world. Then, Eddie clears his throat.

'Do you know, like officially? Has a doctor said something or... are you sure you can't have kids? I mean, it could be me.'

You retract from your hiding place, to shuffle back and look at him. A hopeful glimmer sparkles deep in those brown eyes.

'Well, no...' you confess, 'I was always too scared and because we never spoke about it, I decided ignorance was bliss.'

Eddie hums in thought, nervously toying with the frayed hem of the t-shirt (of his) that you're wearing.

'We can check, y'know... if you wanted to? If you really wanna do this.'

His shyness makes you want to weep. Now it's clear as day how much he's been wanting this the entire time but never wanted to upset you.

'Okay,' you murmur, 'we can check. I want to, I want us to have a family, Eds.'

Finally, he looks up at you and a smile breaks across his face.

'Really?' He marvels.

'Really.'

With your hand you signal just how much you mean it - cross my heart and hope to die. Eddie crushes a deep kiss to your lips, one that relaxes every muscle in your body. It's the first kiss since this morning. Never have you gone so long without kissing each other whilst being in each others company. It hurt to deprive yourself of it. Once you pull apart, you brave the question you dreaded.

'What if the tests or whatever say we can't have kids?'

Eddie shrugs like it's the most casual thing in the world before brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

'I think whatever happens, you're so caring, so full of love... I think we'll find a way to create our own family regardless.'

His words make you sniffle tears for the umpteenth time today.

'The Munsons. Our own little family of misfits?' You smile.

The Munsons. Those words alone leaving your lips instantly heal Eddie's heart in all the ways he's felt it shattered today.

'God,' he groans, 'I can't wait for you to be a Munson, honey.'

His over dramatics make you giggle, your first real laugh all day.

'Just one month left and it's official. Mrs Munson,' you kiss the tip of his nose.

Your sweet affections are overshadowed by Eddie practically howling like a wolf.

'Mrs Munson, Mrs Munson, Mrs Munson. You're killing me here, sweetheart!'

The following giggles are quickly swallowed up by your husband-to-be as he pulls you into a desperate, wet kiss. Your limbs tangle as you lose yourselves in it. Gasping for breath in between repeating Mrs Munson. Mr Munson. Over and over until you pull apart to catch yourselves.

Looking at the man you love, all smitten and loved on, you agree with his earlier thought.

'You're right though, Eddie. We'll do it, no matter how. We'll make the family neither of us ever got to have.'

Just over a year later, you're both proven correct when a little stick shows a pink plus. One Sloane Munson was on her way.

So guys... I guess a wedding is on the horizon?

taglist babies: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar @littlepotatobeansworld @josephquinncore @oscarisaacwhore @therosietoesy @luvrsbian

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enam3l · 2 years ago

Note

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMYHUKpBj/

Three words: Dad! Eddie Munson

Ok well I'm obsessed? I was literally just gonna reply like I love this but no I got too carried away and produced one of the most random and bizarre fics I've ever done. I'm sleep deprived okay!

the munson sandwich (rockstar eddie x reader)

/ hella fluff / taglist and requests open

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

Should kids sleep in their parents bed? It was always going to be a bone of contention. Eddie was to the core, a clinger, he wanted to be in physical contact with you constantly. So you knew from the get go it would be no better (if not worse) with your children. After reading all the parenting books your brain could handle before imploding, you decided you didn't have a strong opinion either way on whether kids slept with you or not.

However, once you had Sloane, both of you were so besotted, it wasn't even a question. As if meant to be, she fitted perfectly between you and Eddie in bed. Every night you would all get cosy and form the Sloane Sandwich. A perfect recipe with a slice of mom and dad and in between was the filling of Sloaney Bologna (a nickname coined by Eddie that neither you or your daughter were too thrilled about). Both of you were infatuated with the perfect little cherub you made together and just wanted to be near her always. Sloane could happily snuggle against her dad with you being big spoon and still able to keep your arm over her and Eddie's torso. It was ideal.

Then Iris came along aka Eddie's clone and shadow. Naturally, she inherited her dad's clinginess as well as everything else. Unlike Sloane, who just slept happily in the middle enjoying both parents. Iris insisted on clinging to Eddie like a tiny curly headed spider monkey. Now it was a slice of you, Sloaney Bologna and then Iris insisted on being so close to Eddie, she was more like a condiment smeared on top of him rather than an extra filling. For the first time in your relationship, your sleeping position of having your arm draped around Eddie's stomach was no longer possible. Instead he just had a little Iris laying right on top, a mini Munson stack. But, you couldn't be angry, not when they looked so cute. Little duplicates of each other who'd become inseparable.

It worked out that you had two years between each daughter. So by time you were pregnant with Maeve, the bed was full with four year old Sloane and two year old Iris, plus you and Eddie. Realising there's quite a difference between that and just a baby and a two year old in the bed. Iris was now less of a little mini Munson stack on top of Eddie but rather a lump. All of that mixed with your baby bump, meant it was time to have the talk with Eddie.

'Baby, we can't all fit in the same bed anymore,' you broke it to him.

He gasped like you had suggested something outrageously cruel, as if you now wanted your kids to sleep in cages.

'But we're a Munson sandwich?!' He huffed.

'Well, you've overfilled the sandwich,' you raised a finger at him, stopping him from sniggering at the innuendo. 'I am the top piece of bread that can no longer balance on top! Between you, your clinger, Sloaney and now the bump, your beloved wife and carrier of your children is practically falling out of bed.'

Over the years, you had learnt using carrying his children was a sure fire way to win with Eddie. He groaned like a teenager, knowing you'd used the secret weapon.

'Fiiiine. We'll get a bigger mattress, sweetheart!'

Your jaw dropped.

'Eddie! That is not what I was suggesting!'

He held his hand up in protest.

'Well, sweets, you should've known better than to have ever let me have my way and have the girls in the bed. We're a bed sharing family now. Deal with it. We shall be getting a bigger mattress!'

By the end of the week you were the proud owner of a mattress that seemed to be the size of every other one you've owned, stitched together. Yet, Eddie would soon learn it would not be enough. Nothing was a match for the terror of Maeve Munson.

'I don't know how, but I know you've taught her to do this,' he accused, outraged that a baby kicked him so hard he had a black eye.

After you dealt with Iris clinging to your husband for the last two years, he was now getting a taste of his own medicine. Although, Maeve was far more ruthless than her sister, even as a newborn.

'You were in her way,' you smirked, 'she thought you were trying to steal her Mommy.'

'You were mine first,' Eddie grumbled from the other side of the bed, sore eye and all.

Now Sloane was six, she wasn't a permanent feature in the bed but her absence did not create more space. Maeve simply turned it into a buffering zone. If her dad were to encroach on the space, little limbs would kick ferociously to keep him at bay.

One night you had even been awoken by a wail from Eddie.

'AHhh you better be sure that you didn't want anymore kids, Y/N because Cerberus Munson has just crushed all hope of it!!'

To go with his now sore balls, he got a hard shove from yourself.

'Cerberus Munson? Absolutely not. That nickname is vetoed. Far worse than Sloaney Bologna. If Maeve is Cerberus, that means I'm hell!!'

He knew he'd stitched himself up with that one so sulked in silence the rest of the night; bringing you your favourite breakfast in the morning.

As you sat on your bed, eating your apology breakfast, alongside a black eyed and tender balled, Eddie, you strategised. Despite how funny it was, there was no denying your precious, protective Maeve was a health hazard. It would be a real shame to injure him further considering you'd married a man with such a pretty face and balls. So, a new arrangement was made. No longer were you and Eddie the slices of bread in the Munson Sandwich. It now went a slice of Iris, a filling of dad, a filling of mom and then a slice of Maeve. It meant for the first time in four years, you and Eddie could actually fall asleep on each other like you had your whole relationship. Then, on the occasion Sloane joined, she could slip perfectly in between you just as she had when she first arrived.

Even as your children grew older, the Munson Sandwich was still beloved. On sad days or chilly nights, the Sandwich would reassemble. It didn't matter if they were adults with their own children, Eddie and you were going to cuddle your girls like they were still your little babies.

---

my taglist angels: @whoahoney@lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology@mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar @therosietoesy @littlepotatobeansworld

@josephquinncore

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enam3l · 1 year ago

Text

eddie’s love letter to reader after leaving her in chicago where he’d followed her after meeting for the first time. (i was in my feels despite not even being in love myself)

masterlist or series tag #enam3ls rockstar eddie

Dear sweetheart,

I’m considering hijacking my own plane and making them turn back to Chicago, back to you. My lips left your skin an hour ago and already they’re itching to be reunited.

Ready to commit felonies in order to feel yours once more. The guys have ditched me, they’re sitting further up the place. Apparently I talk too much as is, now I’m worse than ever and the only topic on my tongue is you. I can’t blame them, I wonder how I’ll ever shut up about you.

The flight attendant brought her little trolley round and all she got from me was a lecture about how you only mix your drinks with lemonade, never soda. I told her my girl has a sweet tooth. I suppose I don’t know for sure if you’re my girl yet. Not even officially my girl and you’ve got me hopping states and writing love letters.

You’ve bewitched me, babe. Appeared out of thin air on a dark stormy night in a small town like Hawkins? It all makes sense. I knew you had to be other worldly. You hexed me that night, turned me into a lovesick teenager. I hope the spell is irreversible if it means I get to be yours.

Shit, this could all be nonsense, I don’t know. I’m so god damn tired. You kept me awake. I’ve not even got my mind in the gutter. Just mean, how could I possibly sleep when I got to have you to myself? There’s only 24 hours in the day and you’ve existed for nearly 24 years. Hard to hear all your stories in that time. I want to hear them all. It feels cruel the universe robbed me of 24 years of you. Think I could listen to you til the oceans ran dry and I wouldn’t get bored.

I took my jacket off once I was seated to get comfy but then I realised it smelt like you. Had this thing since I was 16 and it’s only ever smelt like smoke and cheap beer. You wear it for a weekend and it smells like you. You you you. That pretty perfume and that sweetness natural to your skin. It’s soaked into the leather. Under the fibres. I think you’ve done that to me as well. Seeped under my skin. Running through my system.

Already owe Dustin and Steve my life in ways you don’t even know. I owe them it all once over for introducing you.

You were right when you said this wasn’t normal. People don’t just feel this way with someone they’ve known for a couple of hours. I think my heart was yours from that moment in the Hideout. It’s still with you now in Chicago. I don’t want it back. Keep it in the back pocket of those tight little jeans you wore yesterday. If you gave me yours, it’d be the most precious think I owned.

When you get back home to New York and read this, call me. I’ll be on your doorstep in seconds if I’m not already camped out there. I should’ve stayed in bed with you in that fancy ass hotel in Chicago.

Call me and I’ll crawl back into your sheets and promise to never leave again.

Yours if you wish,

Eddie.

don’t worry i know it’s been a while but i could never forget about my lil star crossed lovers

my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos s @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar

#enam3ls rockstar eddie #rockstar eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

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enam3l · 2 years ago

Text

An eloquent post by Evie explaining what has been going on.

To her lovely fans, I hope this makes you feel better because I know you were worried about her!

To the people who have caused this, I hope you’re embarrassed and learn (although you should never have needed to be taught) to just shut up. It doesn’t take a genius to work out when writing about a pre-existing character there is in fact only so much you can do.

You are not the centre of this little universe. You’ve disrupted and tainted a community of sweet creative people who just love to bond and develop ideas. No one here is better than anyone, no one more worthy or whose work is more valuable. If you don’t like a theme or style (as long as it isn’t harmful) then simply don’t read it.

You did not deserve the eloquence and maturity Evie has shown here.

As for you, Evie, I’m furious this has happened to you. To someone who had really brought a new lease of life to the Eddie fan world, made a wonderful space for us all to just have fun talking about our favourite little Eddie’s and discussing new lore together. I don’t think anyone else achieved what you did.

Not only this but you’re unbelievably kind and supportive of other creators.

I will always be a fan. A bunny for life.

hello everyone. it is me, evie, aka funsonmunson or funsonmunson-again.

I deleted my main blog on monday, and I was going to stay on here for a while, using this blog just to chat with my mutuals. there has been an uproar recently regarding my deleting, and more importantly, what caused it.

I have been a wreck over what to do. if I should stay quiet, if I should even return, all of it.

I left very abruptly on monday, and to a lot of you that wasn't fair, and I am sorry. I can't express to you how much it meant to see your kind words and support.

so I feel I owe it to you to explain why I left.

there's been hateful drama directed towards me since february, as many of you probably know. I was sent anon hate and berated verbally and very aggressively through messages by the user 'chainsawmunson' on behalf of carolmunson for "stealing fics" which has been proven false. I have this all posted on my original blog funsonmunson.

nevertheless, it didn't stop. it didn't stop when I was in contact with carol directly. I asked for examples of what they were referring to, and was never given them. I was told she "never read my fics", and more importantly, that she "never told blue (chainsawmunson) to do that". yet, even after all of that, she still supported blue very openly. I was blocked by half of her mutuals, some even coming to me later to apologize, and it was very humiliating.

recently, I was informed that blue (chainsawmunson) had a falling out with carol. I don't know the inner workings and at the time, I didn't care. I thought it was ironic at best, but again, never thought it would lead to what it did.

I had been busy with my finals, and not been active until monday. I was checking my messages in my inbox, and saw a flurry of odd, ominous and some downright hateful in there. again, I shrugged it off, reported them and moved on. until I saw this:

I don't know who sent them. the blog was not one I recognized, and to be honest with you, I don't remember much after reading these. attached are screenshots of messages that carolmunson sent whoever this anon was, talking about me.

I'll let you read them:

I want you all to take just a moment to consider yourself in my shoes.

this is an author I avidly supported until february when the drama happened. I expressed to them personally how humiliating the entire thing was. how insulting it was to insinuate that I couldn't come up with works on my own, that I had to steal hers. to be blocked by others who works I supported. to be in this fandom and always have my writing attached to that.

I defended carol during the issues with blue (chainsawmunson). I was very kind to her, a kindness she didn't fucking deserve clearly.

I never got any form of an apology. not one. nothing from her apologizing for these accusations, because yes, she did have a part in it. she could have easily said something, but instead she stayed silent- well, expect on messages apparently.

I was going to let it blow over. give myself time to heal, give others the same, but I've been seeing more and more about it. I've saw how the people who support carol are now getting hateful- defensive.

I never wanted to do this. all I wanted was to come on here, write silly stories, talk to my friends, and interact like I always did. I worked so hard to have my blog be a welcoming place for all. to let everyone feel included and happy, but seeing this. seeing someone I used to admire and support making fun of my stories? making fun of me?

that hurts. that is mean.

I deleted because I was upset. I was genuinely, very distraught and hurt. I felt like everything I had written was tainted. works I was so proud of, hours spent into creating them, lore surrounding them and to have it diminished to nothing hurt my feelings.

carol, you hurt my feelings, you embarrassed me, you humiliated me, you insulted me, and you were mean to me.

incase it wasn't clear.

there's nothing you can say or do to make this better. I'm hurt, your mutuals who harassed me hurt me, who acted like I was "making a big deal" of things hurt me. this is a big deal. this is some mean girl shit that you should've grown out of by now.

I don't know what I did to you. I don't want to know. I don't care anymore. I'm tired, mentally and physically, and I'm done.

to everyone else, all the people who have been worried about me, I love you all. your actions and words mean more to me than you'll ever know, even before this. every interaction we had on my blog, every like, reblog, every ask, it all was so fun and I loved it. I loved what we created, and I'm sorry I deleted it. I love you all and I can't describe the love I have for all of you.

I hope someday soon we can start making our little stories again, building back our worlds and each little eddies in them lol. it was genuinely the time of my life since, according to some, "I have nothing better to do with my life".

thank you for everything.

evie (funsonmunson or funsonmunson-again)

#funsonmunson #enam3ls rockstar eddie #eddie munson x y/n

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enam3l · 2 years ago

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rockstar eddie introducing reader to wayne for the first time? 🥺

uncle wayne’s seal of approval (rockstar eddie x reader)

1.8k words / pure fluff / one thing about me is imma drop something for this series with no warning like reply to a lovely request from december LMAO i am sorry anon, i hope you enjoy (finally!)

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

Out of every part of Eddie Munson’s world you’d been invited into since meeting him almost four months ago, this was the most daunting. As the car crawled up the drive your heart hammered. Finally, you were meeting the most important person in Eddie's life - Uncle Wayne.

The car comes to a halt. You knew all about Wayne's home already, being able to buy it for the man who raised him was one of Eddie's greatest achievements. It was rustic and homey, the pair had worked on it together; it mirrored their lives, something they accomplished by sticking together. Daunting was an understatement for how it felt to be introduced to Wayne. Eddie’s only parental figure and life long constant. The person he was adamant was the reason he made anything of himself. You never had anyone like that so you knew Wayne’s approval meant everything.

‘He’s going to love you,’ Eddie grins. The boy is practically jittering in his seat with excitement about seeing his uncle after so many months. No matter what adventures and luxuries life granted Eddie, Wayne would always be home. You daren’t let your nerves dull his enthusiasm. His big hand takes yours, tugging you behind as he storms up the porch steps. The iron grip a giveaway of his giddiness, using you to ground him as if he were to float away. Before the row of rings you can list by heart, can rap at the door, it swings open and two identical smiles face each other.

Uncle Wayne, you think, looks straight out of an old Western; like the weathered former sheriff, gruff but full of wisdom. A sun soaked wrinkled face with a touch of grey hair and a moustache you know based on photos has been present since the 50s. He’s a little stiff from a lifetime of hard work but he still opens his arms for his boy. It’s impossible not to smile seeing Eddie vulnerable for someone. Seeing there was one person he did let look after him instead of the other way round. After peeling off his eager nephew, sharp blue eyes find you.

‘So… y’gonna introduce me to your lady friend here, boy?’ Wayne’s throaty voice drawls.

‘This,’ Eddie declares and grabbing your hand, raising it like a prize, ‘is my girl. Wayne, I’d like you to meet Y/N. Y/N, this is my uncle Wayne.’

You’re unsure why you bow your head as if curtseying to royalty but this meeting is overwhelming. You’ve never met a parent of someone you’ve felt like this with before. You’ve never felt like this about someone before.

‘It’s lovely to finally meet you Mr. Munson! Eddie is always telling me stories about you.’

Wayne chuckles, a hand even rougher than Eddie’s, warmly patting on you the shoulder.

‘Please, call me Wayne. Mr. Munson making me feel older than I already am, doll. An’ am glad the boy still remembers where he came from now he’s a big shot. Lord knows he don’t shut up about you when he calls.’

The revelation causes Eddie to squirm, cheeks turning the colour of the strawberry cake you baked for Wayne that you hand to him. A genuine look of shock passes his face as he takes the treat.

‘Homemade and for me? She’s too sweet for you, Eddie. You casting spells in that dragon game to get this one?’

The dig causes you to chuckle along with Wayne as Eddie whines at his uncle. Taking the cake, your boyfriend slinks off in shame to the kitchen, insisting he’d rather not be in the room as you and Wayne mock him.

‘Eddie told me the town used to think he was summoning the devil with that game. But you’re right, Wayne. I always assumed if he’d been doing magic it’d be to get girls or at least for a new Lord of the Rings book to be discovered.’

Wayne claps your back as he laughs gruffly again.

‘Oh, you called the boys number there for sure, darl’. Hey, why don’t we go sit down and embarrass him some more with old photos.’

Upon entering the lounge, your surroundings indicate one thing, Eddie is Wayne's entire world. From the outside a weathered, gruff, working man but inside is a kind, selfless sweetheart. Above a sideboard, hung on the wall is a huge pinboard tilting from its mass of contents. Countless carefully cut posters, articles, reviews and photographs about Corroded Coffin. An entire archive of their career so far all collated in one place. The surface then littered in framed photographs of Eddie from childhood to the present day, a timeline of those growing curls. Between faded paintings of landscapes are framed tour posters and record sleeves.

Wayne ushers you to sit down on the soft leather sofa as he juggles boxes off a shelf.

‘I know jus’ what he’ll kill me for showing ya. Gareth once dared him to blow a bubble usin’ ten packets of gum. Had to sheer the fool like he was a damn sheep!’

A stack of boxes drop to the table and he thrusts a photograph into your hand. The incriminating photo makes you laugh too hard, that for a moment you worry you’ll pee on Wayne’s nice sofa. There with fury behind his big brown eyes, stands a gangly Eddie, no older than twelve with a freshly buzzed head that made him look like a cress egg.

Thrilled at your reaction, Wayne continues to present you with more photographs. Each one with another silly or endearing story about the life of your boyfriend. Each another insight into the ridiculous man you adore. Eddie potters in and out of the kitchen, bringing you both drinks and slices of the cake. Hitting you both with exaggerated eye rolls and moaning despite the joy the sight before him instills. The two most important people in his life getting on better than he could ever have imagined. You, the girl of his dreams, enthralled just learning more about his past. Something he’s normally ashamed of but you’re enjoying. It further contributes to Eddie’s wondering that maybe you truly were the product of a conjured spell.

Once Eddie ventures off to the store for supplies for the evenings barbecue, yours and Wayne’s conversations continue. Whilst flitting through piles of his archived photos, one folder flutters open. In its confines are collections of photos of a beautiful young woman, trails of dark curls and deep pools of chocolate eyes, identical to Eddie. Amongst the papers includes photographs of her holding a cherub faced newborn but also the booklet from a funeral service. Eddie’s Mom. Wayne flusters, unsure of what to do. His hands hover over the collection as he decides to tuck them away but you can help yourself but reach out and still his movements.

‘I’ve never seen these pictures of his Mom before,’ you smile, ‘especially not when he’s a new born.’

Wayne turns to you, wide eyed.

‘Y’know about her?’

‘Yeah,’ you reassure him, ‘I know everything.’

‘Everything, huh?’

The shadow of a smile appears on his face. Everything, he thinks, Eddie really spoke about it all. It was a first, Wayne knew for a fact no one else in his life knew all about his parents. Knew about his mom, what happened or why he ended up with Wayne. Eddie never liked to expose his true story, stuck to dropping small fragments that no one could piece together, never letting himself be vulnerable. Except with you. Wayne wonders if his nephew even realises himself just how big the implications of that were. Or if you even realise how monumental that step is for Eddie.

‘He speaks about her a lot,’ you continue, ‘but if you don’t mind me saying, Wayne. It’s all you. You did an amazing job, you really raised the most amazing man. I think Eddie is the most special person I’ve ever met, truly. And that’s cos of you.’

The words form a lump in the old man’s throat, a sensation so very rare to him. Never in the years of raising Eddie has he received that acknowledgement or thanks by anyone but the boy himself. The situation was thrust upon him and he did what he believed was his duty but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t hard. Whilst never admitting it, Wayne sacrificed more than most people ever would for Eddie. Sacrificed some financial independence and the prospect of forming his own family but, Wayne stands by the choice. Now your words make him gladder than ever.

‘Well, Y/N,’ Wayne snuffles, ‘don’t think there’s too many things you could say t’me that mean more. You’re a lovely girl, think my boy really got a miracle with you.’

It’s not long before Eddie returns, hollering at you both.

‘We gonna barbecue or what, you two?’

Both you and Wayne share a tender smile, hands holding the other before joining Eddie in the kitchen.

You nestle into Eddie’s side to peak at his grocery store haul, he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

‘Made sure to get your favourites, sweetheart,’ he admits.

Revealing the packet before bopping you on the nose with it.

‘Really? Thank you, baby,’ you beam and tip toe up to peck the sweet smile on his lips.

‘No problem. You wanna do that saucey thing you do whilst me and Wayne set up the fire and grill?’

Nodding in agreement, you already begin to analyse the kitchen, ready to take over as if it’s your own.

‘Wayne, you gotta taste this. Y/N makes a mean ass marinade!’

Wayne hums in appreciation as he takes in the domestic scene before him of his nephew doting over you in the kitchen.

‘I believe ya if that cake was anything to go off. A natural chef. Think she’ll use this kitchen better than I have the whole time I been livin’ here.’

Eddie snorts as he squeezes your hips before meeting Wayne at the garden door. ‘Alright, need anything sweetheart and we’ll be just outside!’

You’re quick to open the window looking out onto the garden and shout out.

‘You better tie your hair up and wear gloves, Edward Munson, I’m not having you getting burnt and getting that hideous buzz cut again!’

‘WAYNE!’ Eddie wails, ‘you showed her those pictures?!’ You smirk to yourself as you continue to prepare the food, Wayne’s chortling audible from outside.

Beside the workshop they built together, the two men chop firewood.

‘Soo…’ Eddie starts.

‘So?’ Wayne gruffs in return.

‘So… do you like her?’

The older man stills, placing his saw down carefully. Looking into the hopeful umber eyes that whilst don’t match his own, are still that of his son’s.

‘Well,’ he croaks, ‘I’d say outta everything you’ve ever done, Edward, she’s the best thing. And if y’don’t put a ring on that girl, then you’d be a downright moron.’

Eddie nods, not disagreeing with a single word.

‘For once, Uncle Wayne, I think I’ll do what I’m told. I know it’s only been a few months but… she’s the one. I just know it.’

my taglist angels: @whoahoney@lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology@mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar

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enam3l · 1 year ago

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eddie munson x harrington! sister reader

a while ago i mentioned an idea of eddie x steve’s sister reader who get stuck in the upside down at the end of season 4 and turned into vampires when vecna chooses them as his king and queen of his world. unfortunately they can’t stand each other. (my original post about it)

The sky reflects the mood between the two of you, the Upside Down has an irritating way of doing that. Red bolts crackle through the ashen sky. Warm rain falls fine and fast. It sits in a frizzy halo around Eddie’s hair and trickles down his leather jacket.

Thunder finally claps as Eddie lets the words out before his brain can stop him.

‘Girls like you only break the hearts of boys like me!’ His voice is thick with accusal.

Whoever said that vampires’ bodies couldn’t feel the temperate, were lying. Right now you feel cold, damp and small. From the soaking rain that’s penetrated your blouse and the look of distaste from the brown eyed boy before you.

Silence sits heavy for a moment as you blink away the droplets on your lashes that you tell yourself is rain. Eddie’s snarl never falters. Finally you’re able to muster a croak.

‘You wouldn’t know that because you haven’t once bothered to get to know what I’m like. You don’t know anything about me, Eddie Munson, you’ve never even tried.’

With that you turn your back and before Eddie can even comprehend the hurt in your words, you’ve flittered away into thin air. And he can’t even attempt to try and find you, because you’re right, he doesn’t know anything about you. He wouldn’t know where to begin searching what corner of this godforsaken plane you like to seek refuge in.

#enam3l faves #enam3ls rockstar eddie #vampire eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst

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enam3l · 1 year ago

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A/N: another little rockstar eddie blurb because i am in my feels. reader is coded as having textured hair because that’s what i have and i gotta read all these straight hair fics constantly !!! also if the title made you laugh ily

There are lots of things Eddie Munson never thought he’d be known as. A rockstar, a husband, a soulmate, a father, an icon… however he did manage to become all of those. One thing he never imagined he’d be known as was your personal hairdresser.

For Eddie, one of his favourite consistent parts of his day was watching you do your hair. Something about the ritualistic movements soothed him.

The way your eyebrows would furrow as you waited to see an outcome. How you’d hold bobbles and hairpins between your pretty lips and if he were to make you laugh, causing you to drop them, he’d be scolded. The scents of each product you applied, a fresh layer he knew he could inhale throughout the day when he’d press his head to yours.

Wash day was even more glorious, a much longer, careful process he could get lost in. Eddie had never had this pleasure of watching girls get ready. No sisters or live-in girlfriends before, no mom to watch and admire. So he was taken by the novelty of observing once you began to stay with each other for extended periods of time.

At first Eddie had found himself standing awkwardly beside your vanity, peering at your process. That didn’t last long.

‘Quit it, Eds!’ You’d told him, ‘it’s putting me off! It feels like you’re a dog wanting to be fed or something.’

So eventually, he fell into the routine of flopping on the bed and propping himself up so he good get a good view. Eddie liked the way your hair moved as a brush raked through. He liked your huff of annoyance when you hit a tangle. He liked the wrinkle of your nose as you doused yourself in hairspray. He liked the way you’d wiggle your arms like jello after holding the hairdryer for too long.

The best times were when you’d be going out and decide to pin your hair or add accessories. It was then that Eddie understood the tendencies of magpies. He loved the way a slide would glitter in your hair, how throughout the day it would catch the light.

Naturally, Eddie’s subconscious absorbed all these secrets to your hair. Gradually learning what each product did, how every appliance worked, the way any style was created. And eventually, he was able to wield this secret knowledge when you became indisposed.

A week you had found yourself with a case of the blues. Not feeling quite yourself. Only wanting to be curled up under the duvet or in his arms. Unimpressed with even food and tv. Then you felt worse as the week progressed, fretting over feeling ‘icky’ as you’d so adorably put it. Eddie couldn’t deny, you had started to smell, but you were his little smell.

‘I could do it,’ Eddie mumbled. You looked up and blinked in confusion.

‘I could wash your hair for you…’

Oh, your sweet, sweet boy.

‘Thank you baby,’ you hummed, ‘but then I’d have to dry it properly or it’ll go all tangly and… I just don’t feel like it.’

His finger twirled a rogue strand - well, it had gotten to the stage where they were all rogue strands.

‘No, I know. I can do that! I know your routine by heart, sweetheart. I promise.’

And you were too tired and too sick of that sticky haired feeling to protest. Eddie laid you back gently in the bath and went through every step of your wash. His tongue poked out in concentration as he tried to master the towel hair wrap which managed to elicit a giggle from you. Then he sat you down at your vanity and looked over what he was working with.

‘Welcome to Munson Salon, madam,’ he grinned, ‘May I say you’re the most beautiful model I’ve ever had the pleasure of styling. What would you like today?’

Despite the lingering nerves your boyfriend may incinerate your hair, Eddie’s silliness managed to slightly clear the dark cloud that had been lingering over you all week. A blow dry? A silk press or au natural? Those cute plaits you sometimes do that left your hair all wavy? He was confident in every process. His heart warmed seeing you crack a small smile.

‘Whatever you feel like doing, Eds. I don’t mind,’ you shrug.

Eddie rakes his fingers through your damp strands.

‘S’my favourite when it’s natural,’ he mumbles as if embarrassed.

You lean back into his touch, the only thing that had felt comforting the entire week. Instinctively he knew the order of each product,

‘Liquids, cream, oil,’ you notice him mouth to himself. Taking the care he usually reserved for fixing up his precious guitars. Then, he wielded the diffuser with expertise. As if he was playing as an expert swordsman whose sword was in fact a hairdryer.

Once the process was complete, Eddie took great pride in spinning you around for a big reveal. As if you were in one of those goofy makeover shows and you hadn’t just watched the whole thing.

‘Thank you baby,’ you smiled. Your first genuine one in days, ‘it’s perfect.’

‘Y’think? You gonna make me do it every time now?’

‘Maybe,’ you teased. Pulling your love’s arms down around your shoulders and kissing his hands.

It became clear Eddie’s question was more of a wish than a query. Offering eagerly every time you were going out or about to wash. Multiple times you were persuaded into gentle afternoons, both of you in the bath as he carefully sudsed your locks. More of an indulgence for him than anything but it made you melt, the shocking tenderness your larger than life, rocker boyfriend possessed when it came to you.

The press went wild after an event you attended where you’d mentioned offhand that Eddie had done your hair. Magazines swooning more than ever over your perfect man. It made him roll his eyes.

‘I just like looking after you,’ he tutted as he glanced over the headline, ‘you’re mine to take of.’

That gentle desire to care applied as you had your daughters. Eddie’s heart swelling that each girl came into the world with an extraordinary head of hair not unlike their father’s. Tears were shed at all three first haircuts which he had delayed for as long as possible.

‘They can’t cut them, sweetheart. We made those curls!’ He’d plead with a pout.

To Eddie’s delight, as they got a little older and their hair became longer, so came the opening of Daddy’s Salon. Lining up his tiny clients after bath time or in the morning and fixing their hair.

School mornings were spent placing each girl at the vanity he’d watched you get ready at a thousand times over. Letting their tiny hands peruse the hoard of clips, bows and bobbles he’d accumulated. Their little cheeks dimpled just like Eddie’s as they grinned at Daddy doing their hair. Rarely flinching or sniffing at any tugs due to his tender touch.

Still, it was always your hair Eddie loved to play with the most. Doing it felt like offering you back a fraction of the care you gave him. It was a constant in his life, something he could always feel before seeing. A reminder every morning as it tickled Eddie’s skin that you were still by his side.

my taglist angels: @whoahoney @lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos s @munsonology @mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar @luvrsbian

#enam3ls rockstar eddie #rockstar eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #rockstar eddie munson #eddie munson fluff

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enam3l · 2 years ago

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the big question (rockstar eddie x reader)

4.6k words / pure fluff / suitable for 16+ / a follow up to this / an ode to this one / the events from october mentioned in this fic happen here

a.n: I took a break from this series at the end of December, ending with a cliffhanger to carry on right in the new year. But things don't always work out! I had been going full steam with this series since it started at the end of October and I was burnt out. At times I really wanted to just give it up. However I couldn't quite let this family go. The most amazing part is how many of you have become so attached to this series and have supported me none stop from the start and throughout my break. This series started my first go at fanfic, now there are nearly 1000 of you following. This one is for you, a lot of you know who you are. This is the biggest step in Rockstar Eddie & Reader's story yet. ily all. thank you from the bottom of my heart. enjoy!

you can see all rockstar eddie x reader stories and lore at #enam3ls rockstar eddie or the masterlist! and check out my new series love, lola

There is a hole burning through Eddie Munson's pocket. A small velvet box scorching the leather of his jacket, desperately crying for his attention. It takes everything in him to not fiddle with it and risk drawing your attention. Eddie woke up, limbs tangled in yours after reuniting yesterday after three gruelling weeks apart. You had swept him away with your sexy surprise the moment he walked through the door, distracting him from what he was going to do. Therefore today was the day. Eddie Munson was going to propose.

The ring had been in Steve's safe keeping since Halloween because who better to act as his personal Gollum other than Mother hen Harrington. So early this morning Eddie slipped out of your grasp, grateful several rounds of I-missed-you sex last night had exhausted you, and he called Steve. The plan was set in motion. Eddie nudged you awake a couple of hours later to announce Steve and Marissa were hosting brunch, suggesting you went there before your usual Sunday routine in New York.

It was easy for Eddie and Steve to slip away to retrieve the ring, with you and Marissa instantly falling into your own little world. As you and your friend squealed, from behind you, Eddie's chocolate eyes glared at Steve's caramel ones, which were tearing up knowing what would happen before the end of the day. Marissa dragged you away into the apartment, rattling off her to do list. Despite having lived with Steve in Hawkins for two years now, Marissa had hung onto her New York apartment. You'd always assumed she'd kept it for sentimental reasons, having inherited it from her grandfather. Her and Steve still used it to have getaways. But the sudden decision to sell had you slightly suspicious.

'So how come you've randomly decided to finally sell?' You tried to dig.

Marissa had been your friend for too many years now, her reactions never went unnoticed. Like how at your question she cast her gaze away, pretending to occupy herself with some packing.

'Just... um, finally felt time. And like... could always do with the extra cash...' she rambled.

Your best friend instincts tingled, certain that something was afoot. Secretly hoping the reason is what you want it to be. But you let it slide as you see the blush creep up her tanned cheeks. You're sure she'll spill soon enough.

In the bedroom, Steve retrieved the ring from its hiding place. Attempting to insert the code into the mini safe through teary eyes.

'Why have you got a safe, man?' Eddie questioned, peering over his best friends shoulder.

'I bought it! I wasn't taking risks,' the safe unlocks and Steve brandishes the velvet box, 'you trusted me with this and I am taking my job very seriously!'

With unsteady hands, Eddie takes the box, holding it tight like it might disappear.

'That's... unnecessary but appreciated. Thanks Harrington, you're a good friend... my best friend.'

Eddie's voice croaks with emotion, all the plotting, all the waiting, it's finally about to pay off. The friend who introduced you to him, is now helping him propose. Steve was already a wreck but seeing Eddie's brewing tears and rare sentimental words, push him over.

'You're my best friend too, Munson,' Steve sobs, 'I love you, man.'

Eddie cracks in return, pulling him into a bear hug.

'Shit, love you too, brother,' Eddie sniffles, 'couldn't have done it without you. Survived it all. Done the band... met her. Couldn't have done it myself.'

Steve is near spluttering at the gooey sentiments oozing out of his best friend.

'You deserve it, Ed. Deserve her, deserve a happy ending.'

For a while, the pair just stand there embracing and smacking each other on the back. Eventually they straighten up and dry their eyes before you and Marissa catch them and assume one of them is on death's door.

Despite the sea of boxes, Marissa pulls off an excellent brunch. Some how it was all your favourite foods. But even that couldn't distract you from the bizarre energy surrounding the dining table. Marissa picks at her food like it's poisoned. Steve keeps gazing at you all moony eyed. Then Eddie can't even look at you at all, his shoulders rigid under his tee. You eye them all suspiciously as you finish your meal, something is definitely afoot. By the time you leave their apartment, no one has cracked. The only thing that has cracked is your spine as Steve hugs you goodbye so tightly you wonder if he loves you or is trying to kill you. As soon as you're on the street you turn to Eddie who has become mute in the last half hour.

'Maybe it's a good job they're selling the apartment, clearly there's a gas leak. Everyone's so freakin' weird today...'you rant to a frankly, gormless Eddie.

'Good god. Have you been inhaling it too? Let's go, loverboy!'

You roll your eyes and take Eddie's clammy hand, tugging him along behind you. Internally, he's grateful for your ability to take charge as his nerves have rendered him useless. He follows you hopelessly through the streets of New York. Inside he's praying you just think the coffee didn't agree with him, rather than the truth - which is his mind is racing a million miles a minute over how he's going to ask you to marry him.

Thankfully, you've gone into your usual Sunday market mode. Eddie watches as you transform into a woman on a mission. Carefully eyeing everything that interests you. He finds himself smiling as you lose yourself in an array of flower stalls. Your soft finger tips brushing against even softer petals. There's an endless collection of different types, half he's never seen or heard of before. But he knows you will have. Knows you'll buy a bunch that are alien to him and he'll have the pleasure of listening to you explain their origin and meaning. By bedtime he'll know what they represent, where they grow and every little myth about them. Despite your swooning over the colours or shapes of the petals, Eddie believes no flower holds a candle to your beauty. Amongst the sea of flora, you stand tallest, brightest and boldest. You return, grin beaming and proudly flourishing your chosen bouquet before him.

'Pretty,' Eddie murmurs, 'but not as pretty as you, sweetheart.'

He kisses your forehead and you keen under his sweetness. Both the blush on his cheeks and the nervous bob of his Adam's apple goes unnoticed. You walk on whilst Eddie's brain swirls looking at the flowers you hold proudly. Will those be what she chooses for the wedding? He wonders. Will she even want a big wedding with floral arrangements and table settings? Is she going to throw a bouquet? Who will catch it?

Without realising, Eddie finds himself approaching your usual bench at the park with you. Apparently around the time he had begun wondering where you'd like to go on a honeymoon, you'd bought two pretzels and brought him to the park.

'Are you sitting down, Eds?' Your voice chirps. Pretty eyes wide looking up at him in confusion from where you sit on the bench.

'Yeah, sorry baby. Was miles away...' he remains gazing at you dreamily as he takes a seat. Once his backside touches the wood, you shuffle up next to him, legs swinging over his.

'No worries, my dreamy boy,' you coo.

Pressing a kiss to his already glowing cheeks. Your head rests against his shoulder as you both begin to pick at your pretzels, watching the world around you. Opposite and just a few benches down sit an elderly couple. They lean against each other, near mirroring you and Eddie. Their echoing laughter shows their wrinkles weren't from age but a life worth living. It's a future you've always dreamed of. Considering you've been together four years now - as of this month - you're hoping it's a future that'll happen with Eddie.

'I think...' you pipe up, 'if I'm like that in fifty years, I know I'll have lived a pretty great life.'

Eddie stirs at the sudden sound of your voice. Too focused on listing every shade he could spot in your iris, to realise what caught your attention.

'Hmm? Like what, sweets?'

'Like that!' You subtly point to the sweet old couple. Upon seeing the subject of your daydreams, Eddie's heart twinges. He wants to stand up and scream in the middle of the park THAT WILL BE US, HAVE YOU NOT REALISED I HAVE BEEN SWEATING ALL DAY THINKING OF A MOMENT TO PROPOSE TO YOU. But now isn't the moment to propose. Something just doesn't feel quite perfect yet. It'll hit him eventually.

'You big softie,' he smirks, pressing a kiss to your temple. 'Is that what you'll still want, to be all crinkled and still in this old park?'

He says it as coolly as he can muster, all the while his brain shouts please say yes, please say yes, I'll live in this park until we die if you wanted.

'Yeah... what good is money and fame and success if at the end of the day, you've not got anyone to share it with forever.'

You nuzzle further into his shoulder, praying that he gets the hint. Eddie chuckles, 'I don't know if I'll make it that long, baby. This rock n roll lifestyle takes its toll...'

He's met with a mocking look as you sit straight to stare at him.

'Eddie, honey... you literally sulk if I don't make you a smoothie every morning. You take vitamins!'

He cackles, peppering kisses over your sassy little face.

'Ssh, Y/N! Anyone could be listening. You'll have my beauty secrets on the cover of tomorrow's papers.'

The next stop on your Sunday tour de force is the record store. It's the place Eddie is certain you've both spent most of your income since moving in together. As the chime of the bell announces your arrival, you're met with a cheerful wave from the owner. You've definitely paid to put at least one of his kids through college. Eddie tails behind you as you skip across the creaking floors in search of something. He smiles to himself, this is how it's been since the night he met you; him hopelessly willing to follow you to the end of the earth. In meeting you, overnight he was transformed from a wallowing lonely rockstar into a lovesick puppy. He'd never go back to the way it was.

Already you've foraged a handful of singles and are setting up the record player at the back of the shop floor to listen. A listening area is set up behind colourful beaded crystal curtains. The light from the old big windows refract through them, glittering rainbows across your perfect features. You're a fucking dream, he thinks, as he pulls back the curtain to join you.

Your fingers fiddle to play the first single and the speakers hum with the opening notes to It Must Be Love by Madness. Once the lyrics start you're softly singing along, approaching Eddie with gooey eyes. Hoping he understands how much each lyric resonates with how you feel about him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tug him close. The two of you sway together as the chorus kicks in. Both faces beaming with goofy grins. A sickening sight of mushy affection to anyone else outside of the scene. But to the pair of you, it was just another moment inside the bubble you'd found yourselves in since meeting. Eddie takes your hand to spin you around, the finger tips of your free hand brushing against the crystals causing them to tinkle.

As the song builds up to the end, Eddie dips you down dramatically causing you to burst into fits of giggles. His eyebrows wiggling theatrically, pleased he made you laugh. He plants a sloppy movie star kiss to your lips on the final notes of the song. Once he brings you back up, you can't help but take in the beautiful boy before you. His round nose, all consuming smile and those deep chocolate eyes you see your future in. Well into his twenties, he is still effortlessly boyish.

'I think you're the silliest boy on earth, Eddie Munson,' you whisper.

Eddie gasps in faux outrage.

'And I think you'll find I'm a man, Miss Y/N. You should know!' His naughty grin widening causing you to roll your eyes to mask the brewing giggle.

'Can we do the photobooth?' You ask hopefully.

'Ugh! Who am I to deprive my sweetheart. Of course!'

You squeal and skitter off to the old photobooth that sits in the other corner of the shop.

As Eddie follows you, a poster tacked to the notice board catches his eye. Upon seeing the listing, a cartoon bulb virtually appears above his head and lights up. Perfect. He smirks to himself as he walks to find you waiting. The photobooth was an old one the owner had taken from the beachside funfair. For some reason, you absolutely loved it and insisted upon going in every time you came in store. Honestly, Eddie had never particularly cared for being photographed. Inside he was still an awkward rejected teenager who wanted to curl up on himself. When you're continually gawped at for your appearance and for sticking out, you lose the desire to want a permanent reminder of yourself. But now, he didn't mind photos. Not when they were with you. He liked how his smile was just from being in your presence. Liked how he has a physical memory of an adventure together. A frozen moment in time of being hopelessly in love with you.

You push him inside the booth, then clamber on top of his lap before pulling the velvet curtain shut.

'Pull that curtain tight, baby. Don't want the people to see what we get up to!'

You swat at his shoulders. Admittedly, it wouldn't be the first time you would take some none PG photos in a booth together.

'Behave, Munson! Are you ready?'

Eddie nods. So focused on the word Munson falling off your lips he doesn't notice you press the buttons. He's dying inside to call you Munson back. Desperate to officially be a family.

The first flash startles him, ensuring a photo of you looking perfect and him looking awestruck.

For the next flash he sinks his teeth into your shoulder causing you to squirm and burst into giggles.

The next you get him back by licking the side of his face and he looks like he enjoys that far too much.

He wonders if he should ask right now. Have the moment he asks if you'll be his forever, in a photograph forever. But then he remembers the poster that caught his eye. No, he'll refrain. There's an even better option.

The final flash, Eddie pulls you into a deep kiss. The kind where both of you lose your fingers in the others hair. Hopefully, the next time you kiss like that, you will have just agreed to be the future Mrs Munson.

Your smile beams, pleased with the finished product. Another strip of photos together for you to add to the collection you have hanging on a string in the bedroom.

'They're perfect,' you squeal, 'okay, I'm just going to go get those singles and buy them. See you in a min!'

Eddie is grateful to the universe for distracting you and allowing him to spring into action. Once your back is turned he fleas back over to the poster, ripping it off the board and scurrying to the phone for public use. His calloused tips hammer in the numbers and he makes a very important call.

By the time you've left the record store, the sun had hidden behind the clouds. A soft light casting over the city. You swing your joined hands between the two of you.

'So, what's next, Eds?'

Eddie fakes a dramatic ponder, his ringed index finger tapping his lip.

'Well, a little birdy told me that someone's favourite film is playing at her favourite movie theatre...'

Your face lights up with excitement as you gasp.

'Seriously?!'

'Yep! Would I ever lie to you about such serious matters? Wanna go?'

His heart-warms as you practically dance on the spot.

'Yes yes yes!'

Internally he cackles, he knew you couldn't resist. The plan was officially in motion.

It was hard to concentrate, not that Eddie needed to, you'd made him watch the movie countless times. But with the anticipation and excitement fizzing inside, ready to explode any second like a shook up soda, it may as well have been on mute. He's already raised suspicions with you by the way his knee relentlessly jiggled, causing his chain to rattle and the popcorn to spill.

'Ed, I told you to pee before we went in!' You whispered passive aggressively in his ear like a mom.

God, you'll be a great mom he thinks, although he's never pushed the topic. Always assuming if you wanted kids you'd tell him. He'd raise a herd of sheep if that's what you wanted, he's so hopelessly stupid for you.

There was no need to watch the movie when he could watch you. See how the screen reflected and flickered in your sparkling eyes. How they lit up at your favourite moments and how he'd catch you subconsciously mouthing along with the romantic declarations. He wanted to make a romantic declaration, a perfect movie moment just for you. You were the strongest person he knew - somewhat terrifying at times - however inside you were soft and sweet. That was never more obvious than when tears sparkle in your eyes at the climax of the love story. Nothing made Eddie feel more privileged than knowing you opened up that soft centre to him. Trusted him with that most vulnerable part when so many people before had tried to poison it. You were it for him.

It's quiet in the lobby when you skip out of the screen, the hand that clutches Eddie's is sticky from candy.

'Enjoy the movie?' He asks innocently, internally chuckling that he's merely buying time. You spin around to plant a sugary kiss on his lips.

'Always,' you hum, 'never gets old. Thank you for watching it with me again.'

Eddie grins, he wants to declare how he'll watch it over and over with you until the end of time - but he's not giving up the game yet. So he just smiles and returns the kiss.

'Okay, I'm gonna pee before we go!'

And with that you pad over the sticky crimson carpets to the bathrooms. The movie theatre is verging on an artefact at this point, but it has become a beloved refuge for the pair of you. After meticulously picking a quiet corner of New York where you could exist unbothered, your first weekend in your new home was spent seeking out what the area had to offer. That's when you found it. Aged and grand with a delicate carved stone front. The only identifier that a building so beautiful was a movie theatre was the old manual listings board. It quickly became a quiet haven to waste away your days in. Watching niche, bizarre and forgotten films alongside regulars; half of whom as old as the building itself.

As soon as you disappeared into the bathroom, one of the staff swept past Eddie. Inconspicuously whispering,

'Operation the big question is ago, everything is set!'

The message was followed by a small thumbs up, mirrored by the other staff stood behind the concessions stand. It was happening. Eddie Munson was going to propose.

His sweating palms went to check the small box was still tucked into his jacket pocket. Check, still there. He ran over everything he wanted to say when he asked the big question. Then a couple times more, just to be sure. Oh god, he groans to himself, why is this the longest pee she's ever taken. He's a man on edge! But still, double check on the speech. It's not like he's been assembling this declaration of love gradually since meeting you in that dingy bar four years ago. As if it's not the sentiments that have made up the majority of Corroded Coffin's lyrics ever since.

By the time you exit onto the street, Eddie is perplexed that you haven't notice he's shaking like a leaf. He retracts his hand from yours, earning him a sulky pout and he tries desperately for his words not to tremble like his hands.

'Have you got your camera, sweetheart?'

You quirk a brow at the random request.

'Um, yeah? It's in my bag somewhere...' you trail off as you feel up the fabric for the rectangular shape. Once you're satisfied it's there you look back up, face still puzzled.

'How come?'

'Wanna take a picture...' Eddie bats his lashes, giving you his sweetest look. He sees the suspicious squint in your eye and hits you with some smooth talk to keep you just where he wants. 'Cos my girls lookin purdyyy.'

Just like magic, he cracks you, causing a giggle to overtake your skepticism.

'Well, if you insist. S'pose I shouldn't deprive you of your muse,' you poke at him as your pass the Polaroid over.

I can't believe this is working, Eddie's internal voice screams. He shuffles back towards to road. Angling the camera so the cinema can be seen perfectly behind you. The soft lights from the billboard and the setting sun casting an ethereal glow over you.

'Do I have any chocolate or anything on my face!' You panic suddenly.

'No... you're perfect,' Eddie's voice breaks as he speaks but you're distracted as you pose.

The camera flashes and captures the most important moment of your lives so far and you're completely oblivious. You scamper over towards Eddie, grabby hands seeking the freshly printed photo. He gnaws his lip as you wiggle with the developing photo.

'So silly, Eds, why did you want a pictur-' you trail off as the picture emerges on the paper. Eyes squinting then widening. You look to the photo, then to Eddie, then to the photo and then finally you turn around.

The cinema's listings board has been rearranged. The title of the film you just watched and the timings have been swiped off now replaced with the words

'SWEETHEART WILL YOU MARRY ME?'

A noise between a gasp and a sob gets caught in your throat.

'What the fuck?' You whisper.

When you finally turn around, Eddie Munson, your boyfriend, the strange rockstar in a bar you met by sheer coincidence four years ago, is down on one knee with a small box in his hands.

'Eddie...' you croak.

He raises his quivering hand to stop your words.

'Y/N, I know I never shut up but just let me speak first...'

You nod, all words lost anyway.

'Y/N, I have spent my whole life feeling not quite right, not quite good enough, not quite whole. I never had a real family, never managed to live a normal life. Went through hell and back... literally.'

His voice wavers and tears prick, the same as you at the mention of his childhood and the place that nearly stole him before you ever got to meet him.

'By some miracle, I managed to get a second chance at life. The band worked out and I accepted that was more than I ever could've asked for. But I still wasn't whole. But it was better than I ever thought someone like me could get.

Then at a random show, back in the town that tortured me, something I can only believe is a miracle happened. The most beautiful being I've ever seen appeared. You. And by some stroke of luck, you saw me. You saw me in a way no one ever had and ever has. I spent that whole night with you and for the first time, I felt that hole inside me begin to fill. And I chased you to Chicago because it was you, you were what was making me whole.

You were the missing piece. I can't believe I get to have a life with you and I can't imagine a life without you now.

You're my family, the family neither of us have. I want to make that official. Want to give you the family you've always deserved.

Y/N Y/L/N will you please, marry me?'

Your tears have long escaped your eyes, now a wet trail runs down your pink cheeks. Eddie's brown eyes seem bigger and brighter than ever, in them glimmers every shade of brown. In them is your future. You push past the lump in your throat.

'Yes, Eddie, yes. Of course. You're everything to me. I think it would've been a yes when you followed me to Chicago when I met you for just the second time. It was always going to be you. Always you. Yes, please,' you sob.

'Oh thank god,' he sobs in return.

'Now, please get off the floor- this is New York!' You laugh, tugging him up by the wrists and pulling him into a kiss.

His plush lips crashing to yours passionately, both of your brushing cheeks wet with tears. It feels like the first kiss of the rest of your life. Suddenly, Eddie pulls away.

'Oh, shit, I forgot to give you the ring!' His panic makes you giggle.

The soft velvet box, he'd been gripping finally reveals the ring that had been in hiding since October. The treasure inside causes your breath to hitch.

'Eddie...'

'Can I?' He asks nervously as if you hadn't said yes.

His big hand holding yours, thumb running over the finger he hopes will signify you're his forever. You nod and he slides the ring on perfectly, as if it was meant to be. The ring is breathtaking, delicate and unique, clearly vintage with a story.

'It's... it's gorgeous. Baby, where did you get it? I just - I couldn't have picked one more perfect.'

Eddie blushes. Now he's truly about to expose how much he's thought about this moment.

'I remember we once went to some pawn shop and there was this big display of second hand jewellery. I caught you looking at all those rings... looked so sad. Told me how you were always jealous of people who had family heirlooms like that. You never had one cos of your family. Didn't have a history to pass on. And it made you sad people would give that away. So... I saw it and I thought maybe we could rescue someone's heirloom and make it our family's. Start a new tradition y'know.'

You're not sure how or when you stopped crying that night. The love you'd been harbouring for Eddie all these years finally began to spill over. Never in your life had you felt so loved for who you were to the core. Now you got to spend your life with him. Perhaps the tears stopped when your bodies were tangled together that night. Becoming the epitome of making love. As you both panted the promise of your future, the magic words drawing you closer to the edge.

'Mrs Munson.'

That was your future. Eddie was your future. Everything you hadn't had growing up no longer mattered. You were at the beginning of your true family, The Munsons. Both of your eyes fluttered heavy with sleep, dreaming of the prospect of how the Munson family would grow. But that was a conversation for another day.

Before sleep finally takes you, a question comes to you.

'Eds?' You whisper into his chest. He sleepily hums in response.

'When did you get the ring?'

He can finally reveal his secret now.

'Last year... in October. Steve's been harbouring it for months. I found it in California near the recording studio,' he chuckles. Proud of his cunning and for not cracking sooner.

Of course he's been planning this. Yes, you think, I’m the luckiest person in the world to feel loved like this. You fall asleep laughing with him. The pair of you delirious with exhaustion and love sickness.

my taglist angels: @whoahoney@lukewearingbeanies @esme-viridian @elysian-chaos @munsonology@mseddiemunson @kreepja @midnightsgetawaycar

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enam3l · 1 year ago

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rockstar eddie and reader have vows they make to each other in private on their wedding night because there are just some things too personal, declarations of love that are for their ears only

reader’s life, aside from marissa, was so empty before eddie and the colour and meaning he brought to it.

eddie’s life, despite his career taking off, felt like it was always on the brink of collapse. his parents, his upbringing, the upside down and fame, nothing was ever permanent, disaster was always waiting.

they both admit they don’t think they would’ve made it without each other. they’re the reason the other exists.

#enam3ls rockstar eddie #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x you

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enam3l · 2 years ago

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love, lola / chapter nine pt.1 / going solo (5.7k)

Eddie’s arrived in California, leaving you behind, to start his new life as a rockstar.

thank you for 1.2k of you kind angels!!!??? and thank you guys for your patience, life has been hectic with work and school and after the anniversary of eddie’s death (but not in this fic baby) i thought fuck it imma post what we got for chapter 9 - I hope it’ll all be worth the wait

a/n: sex drugs and rock and roll - no fr there is graphic sex here

series masterlist / follow #enam3l love lola for instant updates / my other work / now available to read on AO3!

comment for tag list. requests open for prequel stories.

California is too fucking hot. That is what Eddie Munson has learnt since moving. Far too hot for hair like his and definitely far too hot to stay hidden behind the safety of his leather jacket. After years of the mind numbing mundanity of Hawkins, Eddie was propelled into the fast pace L.A. mindset. Each morning for a moment his heart hammered, wondering where he was until the palm trees outside the window reminded him it definitely wasn't Indiana. The apartment the record label had set him and rest of Kraven up in was definitely not the trailer - maybe the size of every single one in the park combined.

So far, everyone had been nice; a niceness you're not usually privy to when you're known as 'The Freak'. Kraven were excited he accepted the offer and their label and manager had heralded him the hero of the hour. But a nagging part of Eddie couldn't ignore the feeling that this wasn't really his band, he was a replacement. There was a brotherhood between the bandmates long before his arrival and it's hard to ever truly assimilate with a bond like that. Regardless, he was there, escaped the confines of his small town and now living the dream of becoming a rockstar. This was always the fantasy, wasn't it?

September 2nd 1986

For the first time in his life, Eddie is sat in a real life, high tech, actual recording studio. A far cry from Gareth’s egg box insulated garage. An egg shaped chair swallows him whole which feels tediously symbolic of his time so far in California. Everything is much bigger than him. As the band and producers play him the demos they have already, with hopeful looks on their faces, he resorts to anxiously twisting the rings on his fingers. They're a tangible reminder of home. He thumbs them in order. Skull. Pig. Cross and bones. Mom's. But now there's a new edition - yours.

It made its way onto his finger as you said your final goodbyes in the airport terminal and it hasn't left since. Between runny noses and weepy eyes, Eddie frowned as you withdrew from a hug that had already lasted several minutes (which was still not long enough).

'I have something for you, Teddy,' you confess as you sift through your bag.

'You already threw the party, sweetheart. Whatcha wasting money on me for?' He sighs.

The protests were not what you wanted clearly as he's met with a silencing finger until you finally found what you were looking for. Now you chew your lip anxiously, fumbling with a little velvet pouch.

'It's not for going away... it's - well, I gathered, this will be the first time since we met that we've not spent our birthdays together...'

Eddie's stomach drops, he had not gathered that. 'Oh...' he murmurs.

'So, I thought I'd give you your present now. I guess. If that's okay?'

Totally thrown, he only blinked and nodded. Taking his hand, you lay his palm out flat and shake the pouch until Eddie hears a little clinking, then feels cool metal on the skin.

'It's the big 2-1, y'know. I wanted us to have something special. I couldn't think of anything to buy. But, I - uhhh - I could think of something to make.'

Finally, he moves and inspects your gift closer. Two silver rings, perfectly imperfect. Carefully, he spins them round until he can finally see what the feature of them is. It causes him to gasp and you to resort to nervously stumbling over your words.

'I was taking a silversmithing class at college and I was thinking about your rings and then I thought I could make you one. Then I thought I could make us some. Matching ones. For our birthdays. It's silly. They're not professional or anything. Y'know a little wonky. Just thought it'd be nice...'

Eddie balls his fist up, clutching the precious contents and closes his eyes to swallow up a sniffle. One ring has E for Eddie on, the other identical except for your initial.

'Wonky? Y/N... they're perfect. This is, holy shit, this is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me...'

The compliment makes your insides fizz.

'Are you sure? I mean, I was gonna tidy them up more but when you were in hospital. When I went back to New York... I brought them back with me. Just incase... y'know...'

Just incase Eddie never made it to his 21st is the unspoken ending to that sentence that you both understand. Eddie takes your hands in his and squeezes. The rings shielded by your conjoined palms.

'Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you... put it on me! Go on! Make me your little hand model m!'

As usual, Eddie's theatrics ease the tension and force you into giggles.

Carefully, you slide the E ring over Eddie's finger. He prompts you to place it on the bare one next to where his Mom's old ring resides. Then, he takes your hand and delicately places your own ring onto the matching finger. To the rest of the people in the airport, it must've looked like the exchanging of vows between two lovers being forced apart. Really, they wouldn't have been entirely incorrect.

‘So what do you think man?’

Eddie breaks his daze to be met with a room of hopeful eyes.

‘Huh?’ He murmurs.

‘The demos!’ The manager Chris encourages, ‘for the album! These are what the guys have put down so far. Love em?’

Eddie’s brain stumbles over what will be the correct thing to say. The songs bad? God no, there was a reason the bad were signed. But were they what he would do? Not really. It was clear they were angling as more commercially marketable, less niche like metal, a more digestible rock. Taylor was more Iggy than Ozzy.

‘Yeah, yeah they’re tight,’ Eddie scrambles, praying he didn’t appear rude.

Already though, his brain has calculated how he would rearrange each element of the songs, what lyrics he’d tweak, how he’d make it his own - but he has to remind himself that’s not why he’s here.

‘We want a single out for Christmas. Make a big splash over the festive season. Hit the talk shows, the radios. Get you boys out there. Build up the hype for a Valentine’s album release,’ Chris cheerfully continues.

‘But don’t forget, none of these songs are finalised,’ a rough voice from the corner of the room interrupts Chris’ ambitions.

Riz, the producer, sits like the mastermind behind the console in his swivel chair. His skin weathered and tanned, littered with scribbled tattoos not unlike Eddie’s own. Tired eyes that have seen too many young ambitious bands and their teams come in and out of his studio, are concealed by thin tinted glasses. A mane of salt and pepper curls, some formed into dreads cascade past his broad shoulders. A real old school rocker.

‘Oh well, yes, yes of course,’ Chris fumbles, ‘plenty of room for your inputs Eddie.’

It’s clear Chris is entirely intimidated by Riz’s presence. His clean cut Armani suited self a direct contrast to the producer’s rough look. One is the face, the other is the real brains.

‘Speaking of, Chris, why don’t you take Taylor, Spike and Keith to lunch. Use that gold card the label bestowed upon you whilst me and Eddie get accompanied?’

Eddie shoots round to look at Riz, used to his name being called out as the signal he’s in trouble. But when he meets his eyes, they only offer warmth and a small smirk; something Eddie had yet to see him crack so far.

‘Oh are you sure?’

‘Yeah, yeah, lots of technical things I need to adjust now Eddie is with his. Go on,’ Riz practically shoos Chris out the door. The rest of Kraven following suit, amused by their manager’s nervous babbling.

Finally, once the door is shut and locked, Riz returns to his throne, spinning round and looking at Eddie expectantly.

‘Well, come on then,’ he chuckles, smacking his tattooed hand against a leather chair beside him. Eddie immediately scrambles over, Sweetheart safely in her case towing behind him. There’s an awkward silence as Eddie toys with his guitar case, desperate to avoid Riz’s piercing gaze.

Nonchalantly, Riz swings his feet up onto a nearby stool and reclines in his chair.

‘So… you hate the songs,’ he chuckles.

Eddie finally looks up to gawp, scrambling for a response.

‘No, I don’t, it’s not, I never said I-‘

‘It’s cool brother. You’re a metalhead. They aren’t a metal band. They’re not your first choice, no sweat.’

Riz, in just a few minutes of knowing each other, has called Eddie’s bluff. The tone in his voice is not anger or judgment, it’s just matter of fact with a hint of amusement.

‘They’re not my first choice either, sound wise. I’m a lot more old school myself, personally. But, fuck, you know what, those boys got more star power than anyone else who’s been brought to me in the last two decades.’

Eddie nods eagerly. There’s a reason he was honoured Kraven had asked him, they were really fucking good and most surprisingly - nice. Riz eyes the boy before him, big brown soulful eyes that scream there’s a story behind them.

‘I think you’re an old soul like me though, Munson. Let me guess… you’ve got notebooks full of lyrics in that case of yours?’

A beetroot blush flushes Eddie’s cheeks, he’s been rumbled and stutters an agreement.

‘And I bet you’ve never shown anyone either, huh?’

Two for two.

‘No, never. They’re all a little… personal,’ Eddie murmurs.

‘All the best stuff is. So what you’re gonna do is get them out and show me who the musician Eddie Munson really is.’

With an eagle eye, Riz combs through the tattered pages of scrawling lyrics. Words dating back years. The afternoon flies by as Eddie demonstrates the melodies he wrote for each with Riz adding his own input.

‘Well, Munson. I don’t think Kraven or the label know what they’ve accidentally come across with you,’ Riz scoffs. His fingers gloss over the stacks of song lyrics Eddie’s unveiled.

‘And you better be marrying this girl you’re writing about. Ain’t heard love songs like this in a lifetime.’

The way Eddie nervously shrinks in on himself over his words isn’t lost on Riz, things rarely ever are.

September 21st 1986

‘TWENTY ONE MOTHERFUCKER’

Raucous laughter and cheers manage to erupt over the booming club music. The fine spray of champagne, more expensive than his trailer, soaking Eddie’s curls. The women that had crowded the booth, struggle to get in the stream of booze. Liquid gold dripping from their open mouths and exposed cleavage. No, this was not the usual Munson birthday set up.

Despite attempting to keep his twenty-first birthday a secret, Eddie had been rumbled. Chris’ assistant Sammy had discovered his impending celebration after going through files. That was spilt during bedroom talk with Spike the bass player who she’d been hooking up with. Spike then mentioned a small night with the boys to Taylor and Keith to celebrate, which was overheard by manager Chris. So now due to Chris’ inability for subtlety, the boys found themselves in an exclusive WeHo club, surrounded by bottomless bottles, scantily clad girls and yes men - all courtesy of the label. Eddie was light years away from where he’d usually spend his evenings round humble drama room DnD table or with lukewarm beers in Gareth’s garage.

After three weeks of locking themselves in the studio when the sun had begun to rise, only leaving well after, the band were finally letting loose. The guys had all told Eddie their tales of L.A’s debaucherous rock’n’roll night life; the secret places where other musicians mingled, where dealers made their money and girls got the memorable nights they went looking for. But so far, he’d yet to experience it and now he was, Eddie wasn’t sure it was for him. A rainbow of pills scattered the table without discretion, he could tell they were far better quality than the shit he used to sell. Servers came with an endless supply of bottles, money no question. A far cry from the gruff, stingy bartenders at The Hideout. The clientele is a far cry as well. The girls that had flocked to their booth looked straight off a Hollywood set. One busty blonde sat on a bewildered Chris’ knee, his eyes desperately trying not to focus on the cleavage that bobbed below his chin. Spike was making it clear he and Sammy weren’t exclusive as a brunette and a redhead sat either side of him as they purred in his ear. Taylor had disappeared into the crowd, ever the life of the party, surely feeling the effects of the pills he’d let fizzle on his tongue. Out of everyone, the only person Eddie felt envious of was Keith.

Nestled happily in the corner of the booth sat Keith and his fiancee Grace, lost in their own little world. The pair had scoffed when a girl had tried to luck with Keith, knowing hell would freeze over before he left Grace. High school sweethearts who had made it work as he’d followed the path of wannabe rockstar. She was no eager groupie or ditzy model, Grace was a lawyer; officially Kraven’s lawyer. Put together, fierce and completely soft on Keith - reminding Eddie of you. Although, they were a real couple, best friends and lovers, exactly what Eddie had failed in making the two of you. When they whispered private jokes or sleepy appeared from their bedroom, his heart panged with envy. Mind racing with questions of how they managed to make it work. Who made the first move? How did they know it was mutual? How did they know it wasn’t a mistake? All the questions he fretted over when his lips burnt with desperation to meet yours.

Eddie’s wishful gaze is interrupted by a sudden touch to his thigh. Eyes wide with confusion, his head spins round and are met with a fluttering pair staring right back at him. The stranger’s fingers tucking rogue curls behind his ear causes Eddie to freeze. A touch too intimate to receive from anyone but you or his family.

‘Your hair is nearly as long as mine,’ the girl drawls. Long nails still trailing up his shredded jeans and now up his exposed bicep. Whether she hadn’t noticed Eddie’s bewildered look or had just chosen to ignore it, the girl pressed on.

‘The boys told me you're the new lead guitar… I think you’re definitely an upgrade, honey.’

Eddie gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. So far he had been able to avoid interacting with these legendary California girls. Throwing himself into rehearsals with the band and his own late sessions with Riz long after the rest of the guys go home. Women weren’t on his radar. Everyone dull in comparison to the shine he knows radiates off you.

‘Urm, thanks,’ he mumbles, trying to squirm out of her grasp.

‘And he’s a little shy?’ She giggles, ‘sooo cute.’

Eddie’s eyes, wide like saucers, scan the surroundings rapidly, desperate to escape this uncomfortable encounter. He wasn’t interest in a hook up, the thought unimaginable and he definitely didn’t want this. He’s desperate for you more than ever now, wishing for your soft touch, wishing it was your tipsy words being whispered in his ear. His birthdays weren’t for sharing with random hookups, they were always reserved for you. After being separated by your college, Eddie was giddy at the thought of getting to spend your birthdays together again. But now you were torn apart again, now even further apart.

Finally, Eddie spots his opening. The girl leans over to the table to pour another drink, her grip on him loosening. Quickly, he darts up, hopping over everyone’s legs and abandoning the booth as the girl calls after him. Eddie’s feet seem to take him away before his mind is even sure where he wants to go. Hand’s planting on the bar top, causing an unexpecting bartender to jump, Eddie pleas,

‘Is there a phone anywhere I can use?’

The bartender nods, finger jabbing to a corridor beside the toilets. Shouting a thanks behind him, Eddie shoots off in the direction of the promised phones.

Frantically, he punches in a number he’s known by heart for most of his life. Ringed fingers twist round the cord anxiously and the dial tone hums over the vibrations of the club’s speakers.

Eddie’s breath hitches as the other end picks up and fumbling can be heard.

‘H-hello?’ Your sleepy voice croaks.

It’s the best noise he’s heard since he arrived, better than anything he’s heard in the studio.

‘Hi,’ he whispers shyly, ‘it’s me, it’s Eddie. I’m sorry, did I wake you?’

Your giggle makes his stomach churn.

‘I know it’s you, Eds or should I say birthday boy? No, no, it’s okay. I was already awake.’

‘Are you okay? Are you sick?’ He enquires desperately. For a moment, Eddie is sure he hears a hesitation in your voice.

‘No, no, I - urm, you know, just one of those nights. I’m fine! It’s nice to hear your voice.’

Eddie for once is grateful for the distance that separates you for seeing the blush that spreads across his cheeks.

‘It’s really nice to hear yours too. I’m sorry I’ve not been keeping up with the calls, it’s all just -‘

You interrupt before he falls into a spiral of apologies.

‘Eds, it’s fine! You’re a rockstar in training, I don’t expect you to be missing all the fun to be calling me every second.’

‘But, I want to, sweetheart… I wish you were here,’ he sighs.

‘I wish I was too… but this your adventure. This is everything you’ve ever dreamed of.’

Eddie desperately wants to let the alcohol coursing through his system to take ahold of his tongue and confess no, you’re everything I’ve dreamed of. But he doesn’t. Your voice chirps up again, trying to dispel the sad silence that took over the line.

‘So, how’s your birthday? How is being 21? Are you not out and drowning in booze and those Cali girls?’ You’re chuckling but he doesn’t laugh.

‘No, no I’m out with the guys. But, urm, no Cali girls. Definitely not.’

Eddie’s not sure if you let out a relieved sigh or it’s just wishful thinking.

‘You’re out?! Eddie, what on earth are you calling me for!’

Your scolding tone makes him grin. He can picture perfectly how your brows are furrowed and how if you were in front of him your hands would be flailing animatedly.

‘Cos birthdays are our thing. You’re much better than this club full of fuckin’ posers.’

‘Yeah, they are. Am I now? Are you trying to flatter me, mister?’

‘Always, sweetheart.’

The pair of you giggle down the phone. His dimpled cheeks aching from the grin you inspire. As the giggles finally subside, Eddie hears you attempt to disguise a yawn and remembers how once again distance keeps you apart.

‘Guess I should let you get to sleep then, huh sweet?’

‘You should go and enjoy your birthday more importantly!’

Eddie huffs, knowing such a thing is impossible without your presence.

‘I’ll try… I’ll speak to you soon, promise.’

‘Don’t worry about it, Eds. Whenever you have time!’

‘I’ll always have time for you. I’ll make sure I at least call you on your birthday.’

‘You better,’ you sleepily smirk, ‘it’s two days after yours, you’ve got no excuse to forget.’

‘How could I?’

Eddie rakes a hand through his curls, knowing he needs to hang up but it’s too hard to let you go.

‘Get some sleep, sweetheart. I miss you.’

‘Goodnight Eddie, I miss you too.’

The line goes dead and once again the only sound filling his ears is the throbbing base. Trying to replay your words in his head, Eddie flops against the wall. Eyes closed tight as he wishes it was you he was breathing in rather than the cloud of perfume wafting from the women’s bathroom nearby.

It’s only when he can feel a presence beside him does Eddie open his eyes. A woman mirrors his position against the wall but faces him, a wicked glint in her cat-like eyes. Taken aback by her close proximity, Eddie jumps causing her to giggle at his squirming.

‘Whatcha waiting for cutie?’

Eddie continues to shuffle away, the phone your warm voice once echoed out of, now uncomfortably sticking into his back.

‘Was just… just using the phone…’ he murmurs nervously.

‘Oh?’ she cocks her head, auburn waves tumbling, ‘and here I thought you were waiting out here for some fun.’

A slender manicured finger reaches out, tugging at a bewildered Eddie’s bottom lip. He stutters as his brain scrambles for a response. Another awkward round of full frontal flirting from random girls. The thought of supermodel groupies throwing themselves at him was somewhat appealing when he was a raging hormone of a teenager. But even then, you were still in the back of his mind on a pedestal, now you live there front and centre. Eddie recoils from her touch, swatting her hand away.

‘No!’ he surprises himself with the firmness in his voice, ‘M’sorry, not looking for anything.’

The girl scoffs a ‘whatever’, rolling her eyes and flouncing off. Just as Eddie finally feels his body relax, a snigger from the corner catches his attention. A frame steps forward from the shadows.

A man, also in his twenties, grins an infectious smile that makes Eddie feel a little giddy. Shorter than himself, but broader, tanned muscles that glistened with sweat from dancing.

‘I think she’s a little disappointed,’ the guy chuckles.

‘I really was just using the phone!’ Eddie insists.

Gradually the two move closer towards each other, Eddie drawn in by the piercing pale eyes that never leave him. Despite the corridor being much cooler than the dance floor, heat bubbled between their bodies.

‘So… Eddie, are you definitely not looking for any kind of fun?’

October 31st 1986

Now in the depths of autumn, the madness of life had only increased. Kraven had found their sound with the addition of Eddie, days spent mastering their sound in the studio. When out of the studio, the boys sat round meeting tables listening to suits spew corporate jargon about their mastermind ideas for selling the band. That was his least favourite part, hearing his existence and passion whittled down to money making schemes. It’s also where Eddie was forced to tackle the idea of fame. Seeing his name in small print under photographs of the band, plastered in pages of music magazines about the next hot thing. Personally, he found it mortifying but Wayne insisted it was proof of him achieving his dreams, whereas you cackled down the phone at the surrealness of it all.

At the end of the day, Eddie buried himself in sheets of paper, attempting to put into words the feelings that brewed inside. Trying to heal the internal wounds the events of the year had left, whilst being a thousand miles from the people who actually understood. Vocalising the sadness he wished he didn’t feel over achieving his dreams of making it but not with his own band. Then as ever, trying to find an outlet for the love he felt for you that bubbled with fervency in your absence and

with every stolen phone call. Then, a couple of times a week, Eddie would present his lyrics to Riz to make sense of, during after-hours at the studio. A secret project the two of them found themselves falling into outside of Kraven. That was another source of guilt, that his heart and soul weren’t invested in the band in the same way Taylor, Spike and Keith’s were. That he reserved the heartfelt work for himself, letting his real passion erupt during the late night sessions with Riz.

Then there was another output Eddie found for his pent up frustrations about his overwhelming emotions and suffocating new lifestyle. A way to let go in a way that didn't leave him ashamed as if he had betrayed you. The guy at the club on his 21st birthday had opened up possibilities that Hawkins had limited. Small town life was oppressive, he didn’t need the rumour mill buzzing with fresh stories that the satanist Munson was also a sodomist. Whilst Taylor and Spike drowned in girls, Eddie became comfortable seeking out something else in the bars and clubs they’d frequent. It was easier, less intimate. He didn’t need to worry about coy teasing, didn’t need to exchange names and take girls home. Eddie could find release down the back of another guy's throat, quick and hot in dark corners and back allies. He was unsure if his bandmates had realised and was anxious that they’d reject him for it but that was another issue forced to the back of his mind, stored in another box overflowing with anxieties.

Halloween was decided as a good marketing angle for the band. Their name added to the line up of hot new rock bands performing at an infamous West Hollywood Halloween party. Something thrown by a record executive’s tabloid covering daughter that had become notorious enough to be spoken about on MTV. Eddie being no stranger to a costume and outlandishness being second nature to Taylor, the pair had put themselves in charge of putting together the band’s costume.

‘This is pretty hardcore you guys,’ Spike admitted, ‘didn’t think you’d pull it off.’

The four cramped into a backstage room at the venue, getting ready for their performance. Eddie’s tongue stuck out in concentration as he finished painting Spike’s body. All four of them were skeletons. Leather trousers and boots embellished with white paint, creating the illusion when on stage they were void of flesh. Their torsos mostly exposed aside from frankly decorative scraps of leather. Spike in long leather sleeves that covered wrist to arm and left the entirety of his chest exposed. Eddie and Keith both in tight leather waistcoats. Then Taylor, naturally, entirely topless aside from some leather wrist cuffs and mask that made him appear as a devilish gimp. All exposed skin had bones painted on top which was now Eddie’s current job.

‘Of course we did,’ Taylor boasts, ‘you really doubted our little DnD nerd’s ability to put together a costume?’

Eddie splatters paint in the singer's direction. Even if they weren’t his friends from home, his band mates had become real friends. Their bantering is interrupted by the door opening and a fallen angel with a clipboard appearing.

‘You guys gotta be outta here in like a minute, the band on stage are wrapping up and you’re next.’ Her sentence is finished with a pop of her bubble gum and the slam of the door.

After final adjustments to the costumes, the boys file out to the side of the stage. Eddie’s chipped black nails gripping at the neck of his guitar. The usual pre-show jitters causing his stomach to flutter.

‘You good brother?’ Keith whispers, a reassuring firm hand bracing Eddie’s shoulder.

‘Yeah, yeah, all cool, I mean y’know aside from usual pre-show nerves,’ he shrugs. Keith nods with understanding, spinning his sticks - a nervous tick Eddie has come to notice.

‘Damn, you better at this fuckin rockstar shit than me. My heart feels like it’s about to fall out my god damn asshole knowing who’s in that audience!’

Quirking an eyebrow, Eddie warily responds,

‘What do you mean… who’s here?’

Keith’s eyes bulge at his bandmate’s obliviousness.

‘Holy shit, you got no gossip rags in that little town of yours? This party is infamous. It’s some real Motley Crue as shit out there. Full of rockstars fuckin heiresses n shit! Little Miss Clipboard said mother fucking Slash is here!’

Before Eddie can even clear his now dry throat to respond, the sound system booms with the excited announcement of the MC.

‘Next up is rock’s hottest new band… Kraven!’

The cheers are muddled by the ringing in Eddie’s ears, his body seized up until Spike nudges him along. With a gulp, he steps out into the spotlight, trusty axe in one hand whilst the other spins the ring you made him.

Dripping sweat causes the paint to bleed down Eddie’s exposed skin. Unsteady hands grab one of the bottles of whiskey thrusted upon them once the band exited the stage and merged into the party. Eddie’s ear’s still buzzed with the raucous applause and hollering that erupted once Kraven finished their set. Immediately after they were mobbed by names he’d read on the backs of cassettes he couldn’t afford in record stores. Producers, lyricists and fellow musicians, all congratulating and praising him - Eddie the freak Munson, the kid who grew up awkward, poor and unwanted. The change of pace in his life was surreal; after a lifetime of critical fails, he’s been rolling nat20s.

A soft evening breeze provides Eddie with as much needed respite as California weather can. The surrealness of inside was getting to him. Skin sticky from sweat induced by the growing crowd of important people with his name on their tongue. His name. Eddie Munson.

‘Eddie Munson?’

It takes a moment for Eddie to realise that voice wasn’t coming from inside his head. A few feet before him, leaning against the roped barrier a guy peers with his head cock. Soft flopping quaff falling into his curious eyes. A cowboy. Blue wash denim waistcoat with nothing underneath exposing taught tanned muscles. A tanned cowboy hat pushed back so it hangs off the back of his neck.

‘Uh, yeah, yeah… can I help you?’

The guy shrugs, hands sliding into the back pockets of tight jeans and rocking on the balls of his cowboy boots.

‘Nope. Just thought it was you. Saw you perform, you were great. More talented than most of these rockstars,’ he scoffs.

‘Oh, I - I don’t know about that. Thanks, I guess,’ Eddie fumbles over his words, eyes focused downwards at those damn cowboy boots.

With a chuckle the guy responds, now daring to move forward, strong hand adjusting Eddie’s waistcoat.

‘See, you just proved me right. Most of those guys would’ve agreed and definitely wouldn’t thank me…’

His fingers brush over Eddie’s jittering own.

‘Need a light for that?’

He pulls up Eddie’s hand that holds a long forgotten cigarette that remained unlit. Gulping, he nods. The mystery cowboy draws nearer, a zippo and a cigarette for himself materialising from inside the waistcoat.

‘I’m Max by the way,’ he smiles as he takes Eddie’s cigarette and places it into his agape mouth for him.

‘I’m Eddie…’

‘I know, babe,’ Max whispers, his own cigarette in his mouth now.

The tips of both cigarettes almost kiss as the distance closes between the two men. The zippo crackles alight, the flame illuminating a pair of wide chocolate eyes staring at a charming pair of green, both sets of pupils dilated.

‘Holy fuck, I knew you were big. Could see it on stage in that tight ass leather,’ Max groans. Metal scrapes on marble as Eddie Munson’s ringed fingers grip at a bathroom countertop as the man he met moments ago pumps his aching cock. Finally the tension built up inside him from the pressure of the evening was on the brink of dissipating. Huffs of air escape his mouth as Max drops to his knees, long tongue flicking at the drip of precum.

‘Knew you’d taste good as well,’ he smirks.

‘God damn, shit,’ Eddie pants as warm lips caress his tip, he struggles to contain himself. His hand lunges out, grabbing at Max’s soft locks. ‘Shit, my balls, suck my fucking balls.’

Pliant, Max does as he’s told, firm balls popping into his mouth causing wild bush to prickle at his face. After a few luxurious sucks, he’s hauled back to his feet and Eddie’s previously shaking hands are nowhere to be seen as he swiftly unbuttons denim.

‘I can’t be the only one to play show and tell.’

Eddie smirks as he watches green eyes flicker in bliss as his fat cock is released from its denim cage. Tanned to match Max’s toned body with a pretty pink head, fair pubes trimmed neatly. A real pretty boy.

‘No wonder you were so confident,’ Eddie chuckles, ‘knew you had that ready and loaded, huh?’

Max whimpers now he’s the one to receive relief from another’s hand. Eddie tugs his chin to force eye contact. Only a moment can they maintain contact before both men are chest to chest, jerking the other off, a mess of precum leaking between them. Open mouths and tongues flickering at each other, spit swapping. It’s dirty and hot and far too filthy for this fancy carpeted bathroom.

Pushing aside a wail of pleasure, Max uses a free hand to fumble inside his waistcoat until he brandishes a foil square. Eddie arches a brow.

‘Jesus, just, just fuck me before I cum,’ Max pleads.

The desperation makes Eddie snigger but it’s mutual.

Quickly, the man is bent over the counter, ass exposed as Eddie’s warm spit drips down. Groans echo as his thumb circles over Max’s tight hole, slipping in as both men’s dicks twitch in suspense.

‘P-please, fuck me,’ he grunts.

‘Alright, alright. You ready cowboy?’

Moans echo off the tiles as Eddie eases into Max’s asshole. The pair’s eyes meet in the mirror they face until he tops out and his head drops into denim. After a moment, Max begins to wriggle beneath, fucking himself on Eddie’s cock until the message is received. Eddie braces himself, fingers digging into hip bone as he begins to drag his length in and out.

Eventually the air is thick with heat and the sound of skin on skin. Full balls slapping against each other. A ringed hand against a plush asscheek. Feral groans and whines of pleasure. So loud that no head is turned when the bathroom door bursts open.

‘What the fuck is this shit?!’ A new voice booms off the tiles.

Eddie and Max’s heads snapped round to the figure in the doorway. The pair caught, trousers round their ankles and Eddie balls deep in a stranger. The image is too incriminating to be anything other than it was. He was exposed and the sweat from the impending orgasm now runs cold. There was no hiding.

-----

damn who tf at the door? my man didnt even get to nut in the hot cowboy

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