Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story

Chapter Sixty: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everybody! I hope those of you with significant others have a great day, and if you don't, buy yourself something nice today! I worked extra hard on this chapter for you all, so enjoy! -hippie ❤️

Description: You've been struggling to get a handle on the numerous things in your life lately. Planning the wedding, work, school. It's all so much. But, Eddie plans a special Valentine's date for you, doing his best to relieve your built-up stress...

Warnings: swearing, smut, light alcohol use, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, heavy kissing/groping, praise/degradation, unprotected sex, oral sex, squirting, fluff

Chapter Sixty: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

The following few weeks after Eddie's proposal are, in one word, intense. You've got more than too much on your plate lately. Between being in the throes of your final semester of college, to working your ass off at the Hawk keeping the underlings in line, your few remaining waking hours have been spent on wedding-planning. You've enlisted the help of Robin, your maid of honor, as well as Nancy, a bridesmaid, and your mother. Erica is your third and final pick for the bridal party, but she's far too busy with her own schoolwork to help you out. Besides, Mom was practically chomping at the bit to bestow a stack of bridal magazines unto you.

Thus far, planning has been a frenzied mess. You'd hoped that having Nancy around would help you and the other women keep level heads. But that couldn't be further from the truth. You've spent hours and hours with the three of them, circling China patterns, dog-earring pages of wedding gowns, bickering about floral arrangements. You've figured out very few aspects of the wedding at all, besides the guest list and the band. Eddie insisted Corroded Coffin, with Jeff as the front-man, play the reception. He hasn't had much input otherwise, so you agreed. Plus, they've agreed to play any songs you want, and for a very affordable rate. And who are you to turn up your nose at a good deal? It's a known fact within...well, humanity, that weddings aren't cheap.

Despite the numerous, tedious meetings you've been hosting in your apartment, you find yourself right back at square one every time. It's overwhelming. You've got too many voices in your ear, when you assumed four heads would be better than one. By the time everyone leaves for the night, you're left with an overpowering sense of doom. Like nothing you say, or think, or feel about what's meant to be such a momentous day matters.

Eddie tries his best to be of help, soothing your stress headaches and talking you down from hyper-ventilating spirals. You don't even have to explain much of it to him, he's gotten quite an earful by just hanging out in the bedroom while these groupings take place. But it appears that every time he puts you back together, the next time your 'helpers' come over makes you fall apart all over again. You're certain that he's frustrated by it, you definitely are yourself. But he's never shown it, not in an obvious way, at least. Maybe an occasional deep sigh here, or a slight eye roll there. But he never makes you feel like you're burdening him. He would never do that.

"Sweetheart, you fell asleep on the couch again." Eddie whispers, shaking you awake.

"What?" You ask groggily, blinking your eyes open. You find yourself laid out on the sofa, magazines littered with post-its and pen marks covering you in a blanket of glossy paper. An uncapped pen rests stiffly in your hand, it's a wonder you didn't scribble on yourself in your sleep. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eds. I didn't mean to stay up so late with all this." Your neck is sore from sleeping awkwardly on your side, and your clothes from last night cling to you with light sweat. You let out a groan as you twist your head side to side in an effort to alleviate the pain. You move to sit up, a few of the mags slipping down onto the floor.