earthlyangelbby

[earthlyangelbby]

"you should be at the club" I should be working on my fanfic

[earthlyangelbby]

How cute!!

i saw this tiktok and i was wondering if u could write reader who does this for eddie on valentine’s day?

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8Ykn9DA/

My deepest apologies that I didn’t get this done in time for Valentine’s Day. Pls blame the flu and pls enjoy this little blurb 💕

Words: 1.6k

“I have no idea what to get him.”

You sigh as you exit the bookstore into the mall atrium. There’s an open table near Orange Julius and you head in its direction. The legs of the chair scrape against the linoleum flooring as you pull it out and gracelessly fall into it. Max takes the seat across the table from you and gives you a thoroughly unimpressed look. It

“You’re kidding me, right?” she asks. “You could hand him a Q-tip and he’d be thrilled. Eddie doesn’t give a shit about presents. But he’s completely over the moon for you.”

“I know.” Despite the whine in your tone, there’s a smile on your face. It still feels like you have to pinch yourself every time you think about how much Eddie loves you. “I just want to give him something meaningful. That he’ll truly like. What did you get Lucas?”

Max shrugs and inspects the nails on her right hand.

“Nothing yet. There’s still plenty of time between now and Valentine’s Day for him to piss me off. So I’ll probably end up getting him something that I want too, in case he’s an asshole and I decide to keep it.”

“You’re no help.” You slide down in your chair and run your hands over your face.

The competing smells off the food court waft over to you. As appealing as they’d usually be, you’re too stressed to be tempted by any of it. Despite Max’s claim that there’s plenty of time between now and Valentine’s Day, one week didn’t seem like a whole lot of time for you to find the perfect gift for your boyfriend. Nothing jumped out at you in the bookstore—except the books you know Eddie already has and loves. None of the clothes in these new fashionable stores had anything that Eddie would wear. That significantly narrows down the shopping options at Starcourt.

Your eyes scan over the stores that are visible from your seat at the table and your attention snags on Guitar Center. Without speaking a word to your friend, you push yourself out of the hard chair and head towards the store. Max follows along behind you, heaving a small sigh.

“Do you have any idea what you’re looking for?” Max asks as you look at the different electric guitars displayed high up on a wall.

“Not a clue.”

Max nods her head as she strums her fingers along the strings of an acoustic guitar at eye level.

“What if you made something for Eddie?” she asks.

“I thought about that,” you answer with a sigh. “I just don’t know what I’d–huh.”

The abrupt cut-off of your sentence catches Max’s attention and she attempts to follow your line of sight. She’s left confused though when she sees your gaze trained on a medium-sized bag of blue and green guitar picks.

“Um…” Max hums and slips her hands into the back pockets of her jeans when you never complete your thought. “Care to share with the class?”

You cock your head to the side as you look at the picks.

“Well, it’s just…” You take a few steps forward and grab the package from the shelf. “These kind of remind me of flower petals. What if there was a way I could…”

“Yes!” The redhead excitedly steps around you so that you’re speaking face-to-face. “You could use a wire as the stems.”

This is the first real idea you’ve had for a present for Eddie but…

“It’s not…dumb, is it? Like, childish to make this for him?”

“Childish? Are you kidding me?” Max’s eyebrows don’t look like they can raise any higher on her forehead. “Babe, our boyfriends are in a club where they play a fantasy game. With made-up magical characters. Do you remember what the last new character that Lucas came up with was named? Sir Shits-a-lot. And all the guys found it hilarious.”

“And he had the power to give everyone else diarrhea yeah…” You sigh and nod your head, remembering that very long week.

“Right,” Max says. “So, I think these homemade flowers are exquisitely elegant in comparison.”

With a nod of finality, you grip the picks tighter in your hand.

“Thanks, Lady Shits-a-lot.”

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you have the bouquet nicely tucked into a box, wrapped up with a red bow. Eddie’s van pulls into your driveway at 7:02am like clockwork, and you hop inside with your backpack and gift.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Eddie greets, his smile bright and his cheeks red from the cold outside.

“Happy Valentine's Day, Eds!” You lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. It’s not good enough, apparently, as Eddie whines and chases your mouth with his own. With a soft chuckle, you press your lips to his and give him a proper kiss.

“Thank you,” he says pointedly. “And happy Valentine's Day to you, my love.”

You drop your backpack at your feet and settle the gift box in your lap. When you raise your head you see there’s a gift wrapped in red paper sitting on the dashboard between you and Eddie.

“Should we wait, or…?” He asks when he sees you spot the present. “I don’t know if you had some plan or idea or anything but I’m just really fucking excited to give you your present.”

“Screw plans,” you say and gently toss Eddie’s gift into his lap. “I’m excited too.”

“See? This is why we’re perfect together.” Your boyfriend winks, grabs your present off the dashboard, and hands it to you. “You go first.”

It’s impossible to get any traction on the wrapping paper while wearing your black mittens, so you tug them off and go at it again. The wrapping tears away to reveal a purple paperback book staring up at you, the cover dotted in imagery that you’ve come to know quite well. D20s and various other D&D symbols surround the title that’s in bold black letters: “Dungeons and Dates.”

“It’s a romancey kind of book, but the love interest is a Dungeon Master in his school’s D&D club,” Eddie says. You look over at him to see him grinning nervously. “It’s me!”

With a gentle chuckle, you lean over and press kisses all along his mouth.

“I love it. I can’t wait to read it.”

“Really?” Eddie doesn’t look completely sold.

“Yes,” you insist, picking the book up from your lap. “It’s about damn time someone wrote a love interest that’s almost as amazing as my boyfriend.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn a slightly darker shade of red, but this time it’s not from the weather.

“Okay, my turn,” he says.

Nimble fingers quickly undo the bow on the box, and before reaching to take the lid off, he slips the red ribbon beneath his curly locks and uses it to tie his hair into a low ponytail. You chuckle fondly as you reach out and stroke the bunched-up curls. The red definitely looks good in his dark hair.

Back to business, Eddie lifts the lid off the box and sets it down between the two of you. You study his face as he looks down at his present. It takes a few seconds for Eddie’s eyes to absorb what he’s seeing and his brain to figure out what it is.

“Holy shit.” Eddie reaches down and gently picks up the bouquet by its thick silver base stem. He turns it this way and that, the dim sunlight coming through the front windshield reflecting on the diverting branches of thin wire and the marbled blues and greens that make up the petals. “This is so fucking cool. Where did you get it?”

“I made it.”

Your words cause Eddie to take his eyes off his present for the first time. The look of shock on his face grows as he widens his eyes and his plump pink lips part.

“You…made this?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie looks back at the flowers, appreciating them in a whole new light as he tries to find how they were put together.

“How?” he asks.

“Just some wires, picks, and pliers,” you say with a shrug.

“Sweetheart, this is…incredible. Holy shit.”

His praise warms your cheeks and your heart.

“You really like them?”

Eddie glances over at you and his expression asks if you’re crazy.

“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever gotten. Thank you, baby. Thank you so much.”

You reach over and take his free hand in your own.

“You are very welcome.”

You just watch as Eddie keeps inspecting his present from every angle.

“We should get a vase and some water to put these in.” The quirk on one side of his mouth clues you in that he’s kidding around.

“Ah, yes,” you say with a sigh. “Just what they need: rust.”

Eddie laughs and brings your entwined hands up to his mouth to kiss along your knuckles.

“Think I can leave them in the van for the day? I’d hate for them to shrivel up and die.”

Now you roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s goofiness.

“I think they’ll survive,” you reply. “They’re pretty tough.”

“Or I can just bring them in and show off to everyone how much my girl spoils me. How goddamn lucky I am.”

You grin. “Will you make a grand display of showing them off? Say, by walking across cafeteria tables and making a proclamation for the entire room to hear?”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.” Eddie gives you a wink.

“How romantic,” you coo, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

He throws you another wink.

“Only the best for my Valentine.”

[earthlyangelbby]

gym!eddie isn’t doing anybody any favors hiding in the vault. cont’d from here and here. 18+, MDNI 1.4k

eddie munson x plus-size!reader (cw: weight discussion, but we keep it fluffy. angst doesn’t exist in this universe)

This was a great fucking day.

It certainly hadn’t started out that way. Between a slew of emails from clients and Zoom meetings that would not end, Eddie’s work day crawled by at a painfully sluggish pace. 

He had even tried going on a run at lunch just to jolt himself with some endorphins, but he hadn’t managed to close even half of his exercise ring before he needed to stop—winded and panting, leaning on a tree for support as he stood there practically hacking up one of his lungs. 

Seriously, how had he never noticed how piss-poor his stamina was?

But any day that ended like this—with you in his bed, his hands getting to roam freely across the softness of your belly and the graceful dip of your waist and the plentiful curves of your hips and ass—was a great fucking day in Eddie’s book, no matter how badly it started.

“You’re so cute,” he sighed, grinning as he nuzzled his face against yours and his stubble tickled the sensitive skin of your neck and ear. “How in the hell did you get so cute? Seriously?”

In the weeks since you’d started seeing one another, he’d finally gotten to the point he could say these kinds of thoughts out loud instead of screaming them inside his head. And it enthralled him to no end you seemed to delight in hearing them as much as he delighted saying them. 

Like now, for instance, with the way your lips curved upward into a smile as you shrugged back, biting down on your bottom lip as you giggled. God, was he obsessed with that sound.

His head dipped low, capturing your mouth with his to kiss you deeply and passionately. And he knew you could feel exactly how hard he was when your hips rolled briefly against his.

“What do you like?” he asked on an exhale, his hot breath rushing over your neck so your spine shook with shivers. “Tell me, please. I want to be ready. How do you want me to be?”

He swore he could feel how the words affected you, arching your back to push your body closer to his, letting out a soft sigh and a breathless hum of pleasure. But when he pulled back to look at you, to see your face and look in your eyes when you answered, he saw something else flicker across your face. Something torn between excitement and trepidation.

“What?” Eddie chuckled. “What was that look?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

You shook your head and looked away bashfully, hiding your face in his pillow. Though you might as well start thinking of it as your pillow now, as far as he was concerned.

“Come on,” he urged, still dropping light kisses on the apples of your cheeks that warmed as blood rushed beneath them with your embarrassment. “Please tell me?”

Your head shook again. “No, it’s dumb.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

He brought his hand up to cradle your jaw and tipped your face towards his. 

The late afternoon sun coming through his blinds splayed across your lovely face, bringing out the brightness of your eyes. He’d honestly paint his whole apartment that very shade if he could. Every inch of every wall, every door frame and baseboard and piece of trim. Even the ceilings.

He wanted to be drenched in you. 

“I, um…” You laughed nervously, all of a sudden sweetly shy in a way he’d never seen you before. “I like the idea of…getting thrown around. Being, like…man-handled.”

It’s like literal sirens go off in Eddie’s ears. His brain straight up flatlines, he’s so overwhelmed by the barrage of images that flood his mind the second you say that. He feels as though all the tiny Eddies in his head are running around and screaming at one other in a total panic—Holy shit! Holy FUCKING shit! What do we do?! Where’s the manual?! GET THE FUCKING MANUAL!

“Just—” Eddie stammered as he cleared his throat, the word coming out in a too-high crack the likes of which he hadn’t heard since puberty. “Just the idea?”

“Well, yeah, no one’s ever…” You blinked up at him, collecting yourself. “I mean, I’m not exactly dainty, you know? So no one’s ever tried.”

“What if I tried?”

The question popped out before he had taken even a moment to think it over, for him to come up with even marginally better phrasing. Fuck it, he thought. Too late to take it back now, anyway. 

And it wasn’t like he didn’t mean it.

His heart still flutters when he hears you laugh, but it stings a bit with the way you look away. “You can’t lift me, Eddie,” you told him flatly.

His brow scrunched, a little offended.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know what you bench,” you retorted with a sassy bob of your head.

“Okay.” Eddie’s eyes rolled. “And it’s more?”

“Yes. It’s more.”

“By how much?”

Your expression wrinkles and it stings a little more this time when you shrink away. Shit.

He didn’t mean for it to come out like that. He didn’t mean to ask what you weigh so explicitly. Not that he’s avoiding asking, so to speak. He just knows it won’t change anything. It’s not like there’s some number you’re gonna say that is going to make him balk. He knows what you look like and he knows he likes it. He knows he maybe even loves it, but that’s neither here nor there.

He wants to know for…other reasons.

It takes a lot more reassurance and some more gentle coaxing, but he finally gets a number out of you. And yeah, it’s more than what he typically maxes out at, but it’s not that much more. He’ll ask Steve tomorrow about a new regimen, and he’s definitely seen him do some of those very specific hip thrust exercises that Eddie can only imagine are meant for this exact purpose.

He’s got some time. He can get there.

It’s not like he’s gonna be ragdolling you the first time out of the gate. You guys were still new, still feeling one another out, still keeping everything soft and gentle and sweet.

God, he wants to be so sweet to you. 

But he also wants to ruin you, if that's what you like. He’ll twist your body into whatever shape he can imagine—he knows you do yoga, you must have a whole arsenal of poses—and then he’ll fuck you until your brain is leaking out of your ears if that’s what you want. He certainly does.

Speaking of leaking brains, Eddie nuzzled up to you again and the way you relax into his touch is sort of brain-melting in a totally different way. That breathy little laugh of yours is back as he hooks one of your legs over his hip and starts to nip gently at your throat with his teeth.

His hands gripped your waist and he helped you roll your body against his, trying out what it’s like to guide and direct you, seeing the way it makes you slowly but surely relinquish control.

But he doesn’t push any further, despite the adamant protests coming from between his legs.

Neither of you wanted to go too fast. Eddie, because he genuinely didn’t want to miss a second of getting to know you, and he kind of had this tendency of going full throttle and driving himself headlong into a brick wall. And you, because with him living so close by you felt like you were already at risk for being swept up into a total cling-fest of a relationship.

He doesn’t ask you to stay for dinner, because you and he made a deal you wouldn’t have dinner together two nights in a row. And with tomorrow being his cheat day, he wants to take you to his favorite Italian place because A) the food is incredible and B) it’s got all this soft, moody lighting he’s sure as shit is gonna make you look like a fucking oil painting sitting across from him.

Still, the conversation has clearly made you a little squirrely and he lets you steer him away from his offer to walk you home, not wanting to push any further or faster than you’re ready for. 

And it’s not even been a minute since he’s kissed you goodnight before he’s going into his fitness app and updating his weightlifting goals.

there were supposed to be more parts before we got here—but who cares, I do what I want.

Ty for reading 😘 love you, mean it!

[earthlyangelbby]

[earthlyangelbby]

wait everyone rb this and put in the tags who you started reading fanfiction for, and it doesn’t have to be anime

[earthlyangelbby]

College Student-Teacher!Eddie x Innocent Plus Sized!Reader who is overcoming the strict hyper religious upbringing in a college states away where you're finally away from your strict family.

Eddie is teaching a one on one classes during the school week for an hour at a time to earn credit toward his Guitar Teaching Mastery.

You get assigned as his "student" for his program. You earn extra credit toward your degree for participating.

Just a thing I've been working on!

Would you read it ?

[earthlyangelbby]

I got two of the covers for issue #1!

There is gonna be 4 issues in total

So excited for more : )

Please go to your local comic shop or Dark Horse Comics

They also have an option to put your zip code to see what local shops have it available near you!

A $20 compendium will release September 30th if you're willing to wait, and having them all in one book is more your speed! (I'm probably gonna pre-order it as well so I can display my comics and still read through it in a book!

Spoiler below!

It's so cool to see Ronnie from FOI and see an official naming of Freak #1

Hello Doug!!

[earthlyangelbby]

"spam liking will get you blocked" spam liking will get you a kiss on the forehead, don't test me

[earthlyangelbby]

two years later… and im still obsessed with him

[earthlyangelbby]

Eddie Loved Valentine's Day (eddie munson x bestfriend!reader)

a/n: I got the idea for this story last valentine's day, but I didn't finish it until today and I'm still not quite satisfied with it but I had to just get this out there already. This fic is more angsty than romantic, but it didn't feel right trying to shoehorn in some romance, so this is just how it's going to be.

summary: Eddie deals with some bad childhood memories on a valentine's day he spends with you.

w/c: 3.7k

Eddie loved Valentine’s day. Loved, as in, he used to. Specifically, when he was still in elementary school. Back then, the class would spend the whole day creating little mailboxes to hold all their cards. Decorating the recycled shoebox with stickers and markers, writing his name in big scrawling letters over the top. His mom would help him the night before, preparing the cards he was going to hand out. She would tell him how to spell each name, going one letter at a time. When she would ask if he needed help spelling his name, Eddie would hold out his little hand saying very confidently, “No, I know how.” Her voice was always gentle when reminding him ‘Eddie’ has a second ‘D’ after the first one.

Although there was little variety in the pack his mom bought from the store, Eddie made an effort to pick the card he thinks the recipient would like best. A Garfield card for Sindy, since she is always borrowing his orange marker. It’s her favorite color. An Odie card for Josh, since he spends recess digging with sticks and rocks. Something about wanting to find dinosaur bones. It would go like that until all the cards were signed, folded, and held together with little heart stickers.

The following day, Eddie would pass out all his cards and return to his seat to find his makeshift mailbox stuffed. In those days, he would get a card from every single classmate. He’d be filled with excitement as he opened each one. The puns and characters on the cards were fun to see, but really Eddie just enjoyed the thought that someone made him something. Some cards even came with a little candy. It was a fun day all around, and doing less school work was also a big plus.

After his mom passed, Valentine’s day kind of lost its charm. His dad said buying Valentine’s cards that kids were only gonna look at once and throw away afterwards was a waste of money and effort; however, that didn’t stop Eddie from participating anyways. He spent the night making his own cards out of notebook paper, drawing hearts and smiling faces on each one. Despite all the care he put into them, the finished product looked pretty messy. The cards weren’t all the same size, there were some misspelled words, marker ink bleeding through the paper, and since he didn’t have stickers, they were held together with regular translucent tape. Give him a break, he was nine. It wasn’t much, but Eddie put his heart and soul into it.

Once all the cards were passed out, everyone began digging into their boxes, reading cards and opening candy. “What even is this?” Eddie looked up from his pile of valentines to see one of his classmates holding up one he homemade, a disgusted look on their face. Another kid laughed. “Why does it look like that?” Eddie felt red, hot shame fill his cheeks as others began to join in the laughter. He sank further into his seat, wishing to disappear completely. Seeing Eddie’s name on the card gave the boy a target. “What’s the deal, Eddie? Couldn’t afford real valentine’s this year?” 

Eddie shot up from his seat. “No! My dad just forgot to buy them, is all,” he lied. “I just thought, you know, something is better than nothing, right?” His eyes darted between his classmates, hoping they bought it. 

“Next time, don’t even bother. It’d save us the time of throwing them away,” they laughed. It was then that the teacher made the announcement to return to their seats to resume the rest of the learning day. As Eddie sat back down he could feel the sting of tears behind his eyes. He put a lot of effort into those cards, only for his classmates to laugh at him and throw them away. His dad was right. What a waste.

That was the last time Eddie ever participated in Valentine’s day. Ever since then, he would spend the day doing anything else besides celebrating it. This year, he was at your house helping you get a head start on spring cleaning. You wanted to turn your life around, starting with a more organized living space. February 14th is as good a day as any to get started, and it wasn’t like you had any big plans. Which is totally fine and doesn’t depress you at all. 

Although he never told you exactly why, you knew Eddie didn’t particularly like the Hallmark holiday. You assumed it was because of how commercialized it had become since its inception. Of course it could be the matter of keeping up with his image. Soft petalled roses and candy hearts are pretty far from ‘metal.’ Whatever the reason may be, you hated the idea of your friend being alone on a day celebrating love, so inviting him to clean was the next best thing. While it took some convincing, eventually you coaxed him into it with the promise of beer and snacks.

You were both currently working in your bedroom. Eddie would hold something up and ask if you wanted to keep it or throw it away. Meanwhile, you sit on the hardwood floor creating piles all around you as you sift through the contents of your room. He did most of his work while sitting on your bed, a beer in his hand. 

Sometimes he would try on clothes you were feeling unsure of, saying that having someone model it would make it easier to decide its fate. Of course, this theory might have been successful if they actually fit him. The mental image of him in your too small knitted red cardigan is something that will bring a smile to your face for years to come. 

Running out of things to hold up to you, he looked in his direct vicinity and noticed a round tin by his feet, mostly under your bed. When you heard him gasp you turned to see what he had found. “Oh, that’s just my-”

“Cookies!” he shouted as he opened the blue butter cookie tin only for his face to fall in a confused frown.

You laughed. “Yeah, sorry. I reused that old cookie tin for my sentimental crap.”

Instead of delicious cookies, the tin was full of old birthday cards and handwritten messages left by people who cared about you. A letter from your now deceased grandmother, movie stubs from big releases, and Polaroid pictures of some childhood friends. Eddie smiled to himself. It was cute how you would keep stuff like this. From the outside, you didn’t look like the type of person to hold on to birthday cards from your 5th birthday. He looked at you with a playful pout, his eyebrows pulled together. “Aww. You do have a heart.”

Your offended face only made Eddie grin wider. “Shut up,” you laugh before grabbing the nearest stuffed animal and throwing it at him.

Laughing as he dodged your attack, he couldn’t stop some of the cards from jostling out. As he was gathering them back into the tin, he took a closer look at the one made of notebook paper. ‘From Eddie’ was written on the back in big messy letters.

Noticing his sudden silence, you stand to get a better look at what’s in his hands. You peek over his shoulder to see the valentine he hand made in the 4th grade. Immediately you become overwhelmed with embarrassment thinking Eddie was completely freaked out by the fact you kept the card so long, like some kind of stalker weirdo. Words vomit out of your mouth as you try to save your dignity. “Oh! That's- that's so weird! I can't believe I still have that. I thought I threw that out years ago. I’ll just take that back-”

Eddie instinctually snatches the card against his chest, his chin tucked in as he searches your eyes. When it's clear to you he isn't going to give it up, your hand falls limp at your side. Glancing at the card once more, he tries his best to keep his voice steady. “You kept this?” 

The change in demeanor feels unsettling. “Yeah, of course I did.” You look at your feet shyly. “It, uh, means a lot to me.” When you look back up, you see Eddie staring back with confusion.

You’ve gone through this scenarios hundreds of times in the late hours of the night when your brain just couldn’t stop running. How would Eddie react if he found out you kept something he made you when you were kids? The scoff that slips past his taunting lips was the last thing you expected from Eddie. He stands from the bed, looking down on you with a humorless smile. “This shitty scrap of paper means a lot to you?” The sudden scrutiny feels harsh and full of malice. You’ve never had the displeasure to be on the receiving end of Eddie’s anger, and from what little you’ve seen thus far, you hope to never face it again.

Shrugging like it was no big deal, you try your best to downplay your defensiveness. “Well, yeah. I thought it was really sweet of you.” You can’t stop yourself from squinting at him in confusion. “I’m sorry, are you mad at me for keeping it?” Why is he upset with you over this? It was given to you as a gift. You should be able to decide what you do with it without his approval. 

Despite being the one who asked the question, Eddie doesn’t really hear your answer, nor the following question. As he stares down at the messy writing on old, yellowed notebook paper, he feels his chest tighten in an overwhelming stifled rage. Having to be face to face with a reminder of his failure fills Eddie with so much self-hatred that he can’t think straight. It’s a reminder of his shitty dad. A reminder of his shitty childhood. It wasn’t fair. Every imperfect line and patch of bleeding ink stared back at him, mocking him. It all congeals to a point of no return in his gloomy head.

Eddie stares in silence for a moment too long and you can see the emotions shift in his face into something darker. “What are you-” You are cut off by the sound of a quick and quiet crunch, the paper crumpling in his first. It’s a knee jerk reaction that has you gasping at the sight, and Eddie immediately regretting. A piece of his heart shatters at the sound of yours doing the same. “Eddie!” Your high pitched squeal of anguish around the syllables of his own name has him filling with that same sinking heat of shame he felt all those years ago. 

Your hands dart at him, taking the paper from his grip as fast as it was destroyed. You do your best to smooth the paper back into some semblance of its former glory, but the creases on the old, thin paper still remain. It makes it difficult to see the handwritten words on the page, especially since your eyes are welling up with tears. You turn away from Eddie, too angry to face him. Too hurt to let him see you cry over this. Instead you kneel on the floor, slumping over the valentine you hold with the same delicacy as you would hold a baby bird with a broken wing.

Eddie feels his heart racing with anxiety. He didn’t mean to do that. He didn’t mean to make you cry. He didn’t mean to. All he wanted was to get rid of the stupid reminder, not ruin your priceless keepsake. Eddie stands there for a moment, unsure what to do with himself. He fucked up, he knows that, but he doesn’t know how to make it right. Your name falls from his lips in a stuttering mess. “I- I didn’t mean-” 

Whipping your head back to shoot him a teary eyed glare, you cut him off. “Don’t.” A sad shake of your head, “Just don’t, Eddie.” You didn’t want to hear how he was just trying to make some kind of joke. It wasn’t funny. It was just cruel. You turn back to stare at the ruined item in your cupped hands.

Eddie backs up towards the door, eyes wide and voice small. “Sorry.” You don’t say anything, but of course he doesn’t really expect you to forgive him. He leaves you be, silently making his way out of your house. 

On the drive home, he’s mentally kicking himself the entire time. Why did I do that? What is wrong with me? Why do I have to find a way to ruin everything? When he pulls into the gravel driveway of his uncle’s trailer, he cuts the engine and contemplates in silence.

He has to make this right. That valentine meant something to you. You kept that shitty scrap of paper for years while the rest of the class threw it in the trash where it belongs.  That has to mean something, right? You wouldn’t keep trash for this long unless it was important, right?

Eddie runs a hand down his face as he belatedly processed what you said about him. I thought it was really sweet of you. You thought he was sweet? The tiny compliment is enough to bring a flush to his cheeks, and it only makes him feel worse about the whole situation. It’s going to take more than an apology to make it up to you.

It’s a few hours after the incident when you hear a knock at the door. “Coming!” You yell down the hall as you race to answer it. Seeing your kind smile fall when you realize it’s him, Eddie feels like you twisted a knife in his chest. He’s holding a modest bouquet of flowers towards you, gaze struggling to meet your own. “Well, look who it is.” You lean against the door frame, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’ve got some nerve, Eddie Munson.”

Eddie huffs a sigh, his breath visible in the frosty February evening. “I know. I know I don’t deserve to see you, but you deserve an apology. I came back to explain myself. Not that I had any right to do what I did.” He looks up at you from under his lashes. “Can I come in so we can talk?”

There’s a pout on your lips as you consider. The flowers do look very pretty, and he was thoughtful enough to have your favorite color as the centerpiece. Getting flowers last minute, on Valentine’s Day no less, was likely no easy feat, making the gesture more grand than usual. You hum in thought a moment before finally taking pity on the man practically groveling on your doorstep. “Fine.” You step aside to let him in, looking reluctant to do so. 

Relief washes over him as you make room. The warmth of your home felt like a welcoming embrace upon his bone chilled body. Once the door is closed, Eddie outstretches the bouquet towards you again. “Uh, these are for you.”

Doing your best not to show how pleased you are, you take the flowers from him wordlessly. Eddie turns to walk towards your living room, and you take the moment to smell the sweetness of them while he isn’t watching. You sit on the couch, laying the bouquet on the coffee table for the time being. 

Eddie continues to stand, feeling unworthy of your comforts. It feels reminiscent of when he first visited your home. The awkwardness of being new friends was evident as he stood in the corner, waiting for permission to sit on the couch or even enter the room. Now it’s like he wouldn’t sit even if you asked him to. Eddie preferred to pace while he talked. He has too much energy to expel to be still.

You give him your attention finally, arms crossed again, waiting for the apology he owes you. He clears his throat, hands nervously wringing together. “So first of all, I’m sorry for ruining your valentine. And your Valentine's day, for that matter. I wasn’t thinking clearly.” He chuckles dryly, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “Shit, I wasn’t thinking at all. I just got caught up in my stupid bullshit. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be an asshole. It was just-” You raise an eyebrow, not quite believing him yet. Eddie releases a breath like it was struggling to get out. “Seeing that valentine I made that everyone gave me shit for…” he sighs again, struggling to find the words. “It just brought it all back. I was a kid again being pointed and laughed at in front of everyone.” 

As he says this, your features soften when you recall what he’s talking about. You heard what some of the other kids were saying about Eddie’s valentines, but at the time you didn’t think he cared what they thought. He was always unapologetically himself to the point that the thought of Eddie being embarrassed or ashamed never even crossed your mind.

Eddie looks at you with a sad tilt of his head, wild curls bunching at his shoulder. “That doesn’t make it right, but I thought you ought to know why I did what I did.” He shakes his head dismissively. “It had nothing to do with you and I’m sorry I couldn’t control myself. I’m a fuckin’ idiot, sweetheart.” He smiles ruefully, “but you already knew that.” His eyes dim a little at his self-deprecation.

You nod in understanding, a small smile on your face. “I appreciate your apology.” You weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive him just yet, and you wanted to be sure he realized that.

Although Eddie knew it wouldn’t be easy, he can’t help but feel disappointed he hadn’t earned your forgiveness yet. Regardless, he nods with a tight lipped smile in acceptance before reaching a hand into the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “I wanted to make it up to you,” he pulls an envelope out, “with this.” 

You blink owlishly at Eddie’s outstretched hand, surprised he brought more than flowers. Standing from the couch, you gingerly take the card from him, watching him for any signs of what it might be. 

As you open the package, Eddie is already explaining his reasoning. “Now, I know it’s not the same, and it doesn’t hold the same meaning as the original, but I tried my best to remake it for you.”

Pulling the card from the envelope, you gasp at what you find. The writing is much neater, the drawings more detailed, and even the paper feels like it’s made of thicker material, but there is no doubt that this is Eddie’s reconstruction of the card he destroyed. 

The premise of the card was the same. A penguin (your favorite animal at the time) wearing sunglasses, surrounded by icebergs with bubble letters saying ‘U R COOL’ after your name. The sketches are much more sophisticated than any nine year old could make. It was clear that Eddie had honed his art skills over the years by doodling in the margins of all his school work instead of paying attention in class. But it wasn’t what the card looked like that made it special. It was the thoughtful gesture itself. 

When you look back up at Eddie, he shifts on his feet uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. He’s unsure what to make of your expression. “So, uh. Do you like it?” Before you can answer, he’s already speaking for you with a defeated slump of his shoulders. “You hate it, don’t you? I’m sorry, I know it’s not-”

“I love it.”

His eyes go wide, genuinely surprised. “Yeah?” He perks up when he sees your beaming face. “Really?” Eddie lets out a small ‘oof’ when you crash into him with an enthusiastic hug. His chuckling rumbles against your ear as you hold him tightly. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

Parting from the hug, you admire the valentine some more. “And I do forgive you, Eddie. I just wish you would have told me what Valentine’s Day really means to you sooner.” You search his dark chocolate eyes. “We’re friends, right? You know I would never make fun of you like that.”

And Eddie did know that, but in that moment, he couldn’t rationalize his intrusive thoughts away. It’s easier to hear that you’re loved versus actually believing it. All he can muster is a shrug, unable to put his inability to trust into words. “Yeah I know.”

With his unconvincing answer, you try a different approach to get him to understand what he means to you. Wordlessly, you leave the room leaving Eddie standing there wondering what you’re up to. You’re back before he gets the chance to overthink your departure, a picture frame in hand. As you fiddle with the tiny metal prongs holding the backing in place, you begin to explain. “From now on, I’m gonna make sure everyone sees this.” You slot the valentine into the frame before securing the backing once more. 

You hang your trophy in the center of your living room wall. Once you’re satisfied with the results, you take a step back and admire it with your hands on your hips. “There. Now, anytime someone visits me, I can brag to them about the personal valentine you made me.” Looking back over your shoulder, you see Eddie smirking bashfully.

“Oh come on. No one’s gonna want to see that.” He gestures to the hand drawn image, but you’re already shaking your head defiantly.

“Too bad. They’re gonna have to. Matter of fact, I’m gonna require they marvel at it for no less than 60 seconds before they can even enter my home.” Your arms are crossed with a playful smile on your face.

Eddie chuckles and there’s a small pause as he appreciates you. “You’re such a dork,” is his mumbled response.

You point up at the framed doodled penguin adorned in shades behind you with an astonishing amount of confidence. “Not according to my best friend.”

He huffs an exasperated sigh. “That’s it. I’m taking it back.” Eddie starts towards the wall, reaching above you. “You’re not cool anymore.” 

Instinctually, you put your hands on his chest in an attempt to stop him, but Eddie isn’t one to back down. “No! You can’t!” Giggles bubble out of you as you try your best to stand your ground. “I am cool!”

[earthlyangelbby]

I updated it ! Isn't it pretty : )

Key - 💢Angst | ❤️‍🩹Hurt/Comfort | ☁️ Fluff | ✨Suggestive Content |❤️‍🔥 Mild Sexual Content | 🔥 Smut

Eddie Munson:

☁️ Thank God for Shitty Landlords and old heaters

☁️🔥 Dungeon Master journal confessional

☁️❤️‍🩹 I think my roommate cares more about me than my boyfriend ever did

🔥 Truth or Dare

☁️ My First Friend in Town

🔥 Say Anything

 ☁️ More than cookies

💢❤️‍🩹☁️🔥 Cupid's Curveball (series)

Submissions to corrodedcoffinfest (Corroded Coffin Centered stories). :

💢❤️‍🩹Cherry Bomb

 💢☁️What are friends for?

[earthlyangelbby]

Hi all! I am adding an Eddie x Afab reader taglist so you guys dont miss any of my future fics! I know you enjoyed my Cupid's Curveball series but if you'd like to be added to my future Eddie x Afab reading fics Smutty or fluffy Just interact with this post and I'll move you over to that :) If you dont want tagged just dont interact with this post at all and I promise I wont tag you unless you ask again! Thanks for reading my stuff It makes my heart all giddy :) Cupid's Curveball Taglist: @emxxblog @punkrockmlchael @ali-r3n @g3n3zshack @exploding-bonbon @sheneedsrocknroll92 @punkrockmlchael @api0calisse @callmytherapistplease-blog @arabellagreenleaf @hellmastereddie @am0iur @taniamunson @mothhball @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0

Taglist

[earthlyangelbby]

Taglist

[earthlyangelbby]

Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch Cherry Bomb

@corrodedcoffinfest pop-up event: It's Complicated

Word Count:3.9k  Rating: M 

Tags: Love triangle between Eddie, Gareth, and oc Cheryl(Cherry), Mean words, Angst, Verbal Fighting, Physical Violence(between Eddie and Gareth), Hopelessromantic!Gareth, Blunt!Eddie Gareth and Eddie’s friendship is complicated

Eddie, Gareth, Grant, and Jeff had been playing music together since eighth grade, their bond built on heavy riffs, long nights, and the kind of friendship that felt like it would never crack. Gareth hammered out the beat on his drums. Grant's bass lines filled the room. Jeff's steady rhythm guitar was the glue. Eddie, frontman, singer, and guitarist, laid down the riffs. But there was something else, something unspoken that tied Eddie and Gareth together: Cheryl aka Cherry.

Cheryl was a broken girl. Everyone knew it, especially Gareth and Eddie. She came from a rough family, never let anything tie her down, and chased attention like it was the only thing keeping her alive. She wanted Gareth’s boyfriend treatment until she didn’t. Then she’d call Eddie when she just wanted to fuck. She made it clear she wasn’t looking for commitment, but that didn’t stop her from leaning on Gareth when she needed something real. And she needed that often. She even had a nickname that neither of them came up with, Dirty Cherry. And she earned it.

It started harmless enough. Gareth was the first to fool around with her, just making out at some party, nothing serious. At least, that’s what he told himself. Then, a few months later, she started flirting with Eddie. Before anything happened, Eddie asked if it would bother him. Gareth, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, lied. “Go for it”, he said.

So Eddie did just that. And that’s how it went. A quiet, messy rotation. Neither of them ever claimed her, and Cherry officially never chose between them. But Gareth felt things for her real things. She was his first everything, first kiss, first time, first "I love you." And when she said it back, he believed her. His heart hammered against his ribs. He’d bring her flowers, write her songs. He’d stay up late, talking about anything and nothing, just to be near her. He’d skip practices, ditch his friends, whatever she wanted.

For Eddie, she was just a girl who showed up when she wanted something, a pull he never questioned. He liked the way she fit against him, the way she liked talking dirty, the way she smirked at him across a crowded room. She wasn’t his first, and he wasn’t hers.

But recently there was a night when she called him like she always did. He drove over like he always did. But when Eddie walked through the door, what greeted him wasn’t the flirty, teasing Cherry he was used to. This time, she was curled up on the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. Her face was blotchy, her mascara streaked down her cheeks. The woman who usually met him with a c’mere grin and a quick hand on the zipper was a mess.

So Eddie froze. He wasn’t prepared for this. Cherry wasn’t the girl who came to him when things went wrong. He didn’t know what to do with this. He only knew what he was used to, the teasing, the easy calls, the fun. This? This was... different. For a moment, Eddie just stood there, shifting from foot to foot, hands stuffed in his pockets, twisting the rings on his fingers, avoiding eye contact. He looked at her, a beautiful mess, but a mess that wasn’t his. He had no clue how to comfort her. She wasn’t someone he knew beyond the surface beyond the way she liked to talk dirty to him or the way she called out his name when she needed him. He awkwardly sat down next to her, but didn’t pull her into his arms, didn’t rub her back, didn’t ask what was wrong. His body stiffened, his words not coming out. He couldn’t figure out how to bridge the gap between them. It was like he wasn’t sure how to be Eddie for her, the real Eddie not the version who gave her a good time but the version who was supposed to be there when things weren’t easy. He’d been that for girls before but Cherry wasn’t like the girls he’d ever even thought he loved. She was different, crass, and typically emotionless, other than her flirty and lustful. 

She cried harder, her body shaking with the weight of it. Eddie didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t Gareth. Eventually she stopped. Maybe she ran out of tears to cry, Eddie thought to himself as he got up.

She looked at him, eyes red and puffy, and said “I love you, Eddie.”

He blinked, mouth open, but didn’t say it back. Instead he said, “I’m sorry. I’ve gotta be up early in the morning. I hope you get to feeling better, Cherry." He patted her head and headed toward the door. As soon as Eddie’s van pulled out of the driveway, Cherry grabbed the phone and called the one person who had always been there, Gareth.

And Gareth came.

Because Gareth always came.

Eddie never knew for sure about what happened after he left that night. But he knew leaving that night didn’t stop her from calling him to come around. To Eddie, Cherry was just someone who showed up when she wanted something easy. She wasn’t someone who ever needed him beyond that beyond the physical. The two of them liked it that way.

But Gareth? Gareth was the one who loved her, and no matter how many times Cheryl pushed him away, he was the one she called when she needed something deeper. He was the one who held her close, made love to her slow and tender, kissed her as if she was the most important thing in the world. He knew what she was searching for in Eddie. A good time. But what she needed, what she was terrified of not having, was stability, and it was Gareth she would run to. Because, to him, she was.

And maybe, deep down, Eddie had always known Gareth saw her differently. Maybe that’s why he never brought her up, never let himself think too hard about what it meant when Gareth’s jaw tensed at the mention of her name.

They never talked about her. She never talked about them to each other, either. It was just a thing, a many years-long, tangled, blurred line thing.

But Gareth was never as indifferent as he pretended to be.

So when he sees Eddie slide into Cherry’s car after a show. He saw her laughing, tucking her hair behind her ear, looking at Eddie the way he wanted her to look at him, something inside him finally snapped.

The day after Gareth saw Eddie get into Cherry’s car, things were already simmering under the surface. Eddie had shown up at practice like usual, but Gareth could smell her on him. It was Cherry’s perfume, the trace of her lipstick, the faint hint of sweat from their time together the night before. And it pissed him off, even more than he expected.

They were all sitting around, debating what songs to play for the party they’d been hired to perform at. Jeff always had an idea to liven things up.

“Speaking of Cherry Bomb,” Jeff said with a grin, “how is Cherry, Eddie? Saw you leaving with her after last night’s show.”

Eddie, blushing a little and laughing, responded, “Oh, you know, dirty Cherry is still just as dirty as she’s always been.”

The band was set to play a set for a college party, opening with the kid who organized the event’s requested cover song, Cherry Bomb. Gareth stayed silent, his jaw tightening as he clenched his fists behind his back, doing his best to hold it all in.

They started practicing, beginning with Cherry Bomb. But as they ran through it, Gareth kept fucking up the drum beat. Feeling the sting of every ch-ch-ch-ch-ch Cherry that left Eddie’s mouth. Every time, he couldn’t get the rhythm right.  After about an hour of playing, Jeff and Grant were already giving Gareth shit for messing up. He was missing the beat on the intro. The drum solo was flat. The song was a mess. 

“You good, man?” Jeff called out, eyebrow raised. “You look like you’re on another planet.”

Eddie huffed, clearly frustrated with the mistakes too. “What the fuck is up with you, Gareth?” he snapped.

Gareth said nothing, his teeth grinding together as his anger rose, but he kept it locked inside, just barely holding it together.

They reset, tried again, and again, restarting the song four more times before Eddie snapped again. “What the hell is going on with you? Just focus, man.”

That was it. Gareth couldn’t hold it in anymore. He stood up suddenly, fists clenched, and lunged at Eddie, his voice full of fury. “You know what my fucking problem is?”

Jeff and Grant gasped, both of them instinctively stepping back.

Eddie, still clueless, just blinked at him. “No, I don’t think I do, man.”

Gareth shoved Eddie hard in the shoulder, his voice low and furious. “You don’t fucking deserve her. You don’t even fucking care about Cheryl.”

Eddie paused, processing what Gareth just said, then the words hit him like a slap. “Cheryl? You mean Cherry, the girl that’s been calling me to fuck her since I could drive? That’s who you’re fucking mad over?”

The words cut through the tension in the room like a knife. Gareth’s face twisted in rage, and without another word, he swung at Eddie, landing a punch square on Eddie’s jaw.

“Don’t fucking talk about her like that,” Gareth snarled.

Jeff’s eyes were wide in disbelief. “Holy shit,” he muttered.

Grant took a step forward. “Fucking just stop now!”

But Eddie wasn’t done. He wiped the blood from his lip, eyes narrowing. “Oh, you really want to do this?”

Before Gareth could react, Eddie lunged at him, knocking him to the ground with force. They grappled, their fists flying, and punching until Eddie’s fist collided with Gareth’s face. It knocked the air out of him.

Eddie pushed Gareth against the concrete floor not too hard, getting off of him. “When did this even become a problem?” his voice cracking out of pure frustration.

Gareth sat up slowly, wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, eyes blazing with fury. “Oh, it’s always been a problem. But especially when you treat her like she’s just something to fuck ‘Dirty Cherry,’” he mocked the phrase, his voice full of disgust. He stood up, looking Eddie straight in the eye, chest heaving. “I’ve always known you didn’t give a shit about her, but I didn’t think you’d be this... this cruel.”

Jeff stepped between them, his voice low and shaky. “Alright, guys. Enough. Just stop.”

Eddie was still panting, one hand on his hip the other pushing his hair back. He glanced over at Jeff, then back at Gareth, his voice rough with disbelief. “She calls me, man. Asking me to come over. I mean, what? Are you in love with her?”

The tension in the room was thick as a knife, everyone waiting for Gareth’s response. Eddie’s words hung in the air, but it was clear Gareth wasn’t backing down now.

Gareth scoffs, his voice low, rough with a mix of bitterness and pain. "Yeah, I love her. Not that you’d ever get it. But you… you're just playing with her, aren’t you? You’ve got no idea what it means to actually give a shit about someone. You only care about her when she’s easy, when she’s just a warm body for you to fuck."

“Love her, huh?” Eddie scoffs. “Well, let me tell you something, Gareth. She called me a while back, you know, the usual. I figured it was just another late night quickie, just like always.” He shrugs, almost nonchalant. “I get there, and what do I find? Not the usual Cherry, not the girl who’s all playful and fun. No. She’s a fucking mess. Crying, face all blotchy, mascara running down her cheeks. And I’m just standing there, not knowing what the hell’s going on. Because that’s not who she is to me. I’ve never seen her like that before, never cared to.”

He pauses, watching Gareth’s face closely, savoring the way his friend flinches, just a little. Eddie’s smile widens. “I didn’t know what to do, so I just sat there. Didn’t ask what was wrong. Didn’t comfort her. Just waited for her to stop crying. And when she finally did… she looks up at me with those red eyes and says, ‘I love you, Eddie.’” he mocks her voice at the end.

Eddie leans in closer, his voice getting rougher, the words slow and deliberate, like he’s digging the knife in deeper. “You wanna know what I did? I didn’t say it back. Not a damn word. I just told her I had stuff to do in the morning, patted her on the head, and walked out. Left her there, crying. And. She called me again a week later. But that time it was like usual.”

He steps back, watching the realization hit Gareth. “You wanna know why? Because to me, she’s just someone who calls when she wants something fun. She’s never needed me for anything real. I’m just her fucking outlet. I’m sure she cried after I left, but who did she call right after, huh? Was it you? Because from what I can tell you’re the one she calls when she’s falling apart. I’m the one she calls when she’s bored.”

Eddie leans back, his grin cold and triumphant. “But hey, you keep telling yourself she loves you. Keep pretending she’s some prize you’ve got locked down. I’m just the guy she gets off on when she’s feeling lonely, man.”

Gareth’s hands clenched into fists at his sides, his entire body stiffening. The words Eddie spoke keep echoing in his mind. Cheryl telling Eddie she loves him, and Eddie just brushes it off. The pain twists in his gut, and for a moment, Gareth feels like he might actually choke on it.

His voice is low, tight with barely contained rage. "She said that? You’re... you’re really sure she said that?" His words tremble, and there's a flicker of desperation in his eyes. He can’t help it. The idea of Cherry saying those words to Eddie, the guy who never truly saw her, makes him want to snap. "You swear she fucking said that, Eddie?"

Eddie meets his gaze, totally defensive, and nods. “Yeah. I fucking swear. She said it. And I wouldn’t lie about something like that. You know I wouldn’t, Gareth.”

Gareth feels the weight of Eddie’s words crush him. A cold chill runs through him. The idea of Cheryl, broken and vulnerable, pouring her heart out to Eddie, someone who had never truly cared about her like he had sent a jolt of pain right through his chest.

Gareth’s jaw tightens. His eyes flicker between Eddie and the rest of the guys, his mind spinning, trying to make sense of everything. But the truth is, it’s too much. It’s too much to bear, and he can’t keep it in any longer.

“Everybody get the fuck out,” Gareth spits out, his voice shaking with emotion. "I said get the fuck out."

Jeff and Grant exchange looks, clearly startled by Gareth’s outburst, but they don’t hesitate. They start grabbing their things and heading for the door, leaving Gareth and Eddie standing there. The silence that follows is thick and suffocating.

Gareth doesn’t even look at Eddie as the guys leave. He stands there, staring at the floor, his chest rising and falling with each uneven breath. It’s all just too much. The anger, the hurt, the confusion. It’s all mixing together in a way he can’t untangle.

As soon as the door slams shut behind Grant and Jeff, Gareth turns toward Eddie, his eyes burning with something fierce and broken. “You think you know her? You think you know anything about her? About me?” His voice is sharp, cutting through the tension. “You have no fucking idea.”

“Alright, alright,” Eddie mutters, barely loud enough to hear. He runs a hand through his hair, the reality of the situation starting to hit him more than he’d like to admit. He’s never really seen Gareth like this, not like this.

He sighs, a mix of frustration and confusion in his voice. “I don’t get it, man. You’re sitting here acting like you have some fucking claim on her.” He pauses for a second, his gaze flickering over Gareth. “She’s not yours, Gareth. She never was. She’s never been anyone’s.”

Eddie takes a slow step back, his words hanging in the air. "I didn’t mean to drag it out like this, but it’s the truth. She’s with whoever she wants to be with, whenever she wants to be with them. It’s not a game to me, I just don’t... feel the way you do about her." He exhales, his eyes momentarily softening. "And I sure as hell don’t get why you think she’s this... perfect thing when all she ever wanted from me was a good time."

He stands there, a flicker of guilt still gnawing at him, but he’s stubborn. He doesn’t know how to apologize for this, doesn’t know how to take it all back. His gaze moves to the door, then back to Gareth, who’s still holding his ground. “But if that’s how you wanna see it, then fine. You wanna hate me over her? Do what you gotta do.”

Eddie’s words trail off, his eyes hardening once more as he turns to leave. Before he walks out the door, he throws one last look over his shoulder. "But don’t act like she’s some kind of saint. You’re not the only one who’s been there, Gareth."

With that, Eddie leaves, the sound of the door slamming shut ringing in the silence.

Gareth slid down the wall, feeling utterly drained. His anger had burned itself out, leaving nothing but exhaustion and the sting of betrayal. Tears came, silent and relentless, and for an hour, he let them fall. But by the time he got up and grabbed his keys, he wasn’t angry anymore.

Now, he was calm. The kind of calm that wasn’t reassuring but terrifying.

He drove to Cheryl’s house, barely thinking, barely feeling. When he got there, he didn’t bother knocking. The door was unlocked—of course, it was.

She was lounging on the couch in a flimsy robe, one that barely covered anything. When she saw him, she sat up, pushing her hair from her face.

“Gareth? Now’s not a good time.”

Before he could answer, another guy walked out of the bathroom, dripping wet, a towel slung low around his waist. He froze when he saw Gareth.

“Uh… who’s this?”

Gareth’s eyes darkened. “Who the fuck are you?”

Cheryl quickly stood, placing herself between them. “He’s just a friend, Gare,” she said, her voice low, trying to soothe him. “What’s up, hon?”

The guy didn’t wait for an answer. He ducked into her bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Gareth exhaled slowly, grounding himself. He had come here for one thing. He had to ask.

“When you called me at two in the morning a couple months ago,” he started, his voice measured, “was I the only one you called that night?”

Cheryl’s face paled, her lips parting slightly before she snapped her mouth shut. “Gare, what are you talking about?”

He met her gaze, steady and unflinching. “Don’t lie to me, Cheryl.”

She took a slow breath, then closed the gap between them, her fingers threading gently through his hair. “You know I love you, Gareth.”

He flinched back like she’d burned him. “Don’t.” His voice cracked, but he pushed through it. “Was I the second person you called?”

She hesitated, just for a second, but it was enough. “No, Gareth. It was only you.”

His stomach twisted. His chest caved in on itself.

He blinked, and tears spilled over. His breath came shallow, ragged.

“You’re such a fucking liar,” he choked out. “You told Eddie you loved him.”

Her face crumbled. “Gare—”

But he was already backing away. Already shaking his head. Already done.

He turned without another word, walked out the door, and didn’t look back.

When Gareth finally got home, he was a mess. All teary eyed, his head spinning from the heartbreak and the confrontation. He collapsed onto his bed, the weight of the night pressing on him. After a while, he dialed Eddie’s number. It must’ve been around 3 a.m. when Eddie’s groggy voice picked up the phone. “Hello?”

Gareth’s voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible through the tears. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He couldn’t stop the stream of apologies, the raw emotion catching him off guard. “Gareth? What’s wrong? I can come over,” Eddie asked, his concern clear even through the haze of sleep.

Gareth’s voice still  hoarse.  “I just… I went to talk to her. She had another guy there. He was in a towel, and she lied to my face…” he paused and through a babble of sobs “I’m so fucking stupid.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped open at the sound of his friend’s broken voice. “Gareth, no, listen to me, it’s not your fault, okay? You’re not stupid.”

Gareth could barely hold it together, the sobs racking his body. “But I am… I should’ve known. I should’ve just walked away a long time ago.”

“Shh…Listen.  It’s okay, man,” Eddie said, soft but firm, trying to soothe him. “You’ve just got a big heart, alright? You’re not stupid. She’s the one who’s messed up.”

Gareth’s voice barely cracked out through his tears, “I’m not seeing her anymore… I just wanted to make things right. I feel like I screwed everything up.”

Eddie’s tone shifted, trying to lighten the air a bit, but it was clear he was serious. “Me neither. I wouldn’t want another busted lip. And... well, your nose might be making a new sound now.”

Gareth let out a shaky laugh, a brief moment of relief cutting through the tension. “Yeah... I guess I’ll get used to the whistle.”

But Eddie could hear how drained he was. “Have you slept, man?”

“No…” Gareth’s voice was barely there, full of exhaustion.

Eddie’s voice softened, more serious. “Do you need me to come over? I can.”

Gareth hesitated, the emotional toll too much. “No, I think I’ll try to sleep. I’m sorry… I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Gareth, stop. You’re not a burden, man,” Eddie said, his voice steady but full of understanding. “I’m sorry, too.  But I’m glad you called me.”

Gareth sniffled and wiped his eyes, feeling the comfort in Eddie’s words. “Thanks, Eddie. I’ll be okay. Just... I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Eddie replied softly. “I know you’re hurting, but you’re not alone. Get some sleep, alright? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” Gareth said, his voice quieter now, but there was a bit of relief in it.

“See you at practice, man,” Eddie said, his tone light but caring. “Call me if you need anything.”

Gareth exhaled, the knot in his chest loosening just a little, finally feeling the exhaustion catch up with him. He closed his eyes, hoping that tomorrow might bring a bit more clarity, knowing Eddie would always be there when he needed him most.

[earthlyangelbby]

Desperately need to know the middle name you gave him. What does the J stand for? In my head cannon I went for a southern Appalachian one Silas Edward Silas Munson!

hello eddie munson likes to suck and play with nipples and he gets super into it and gets all subby whaaaaat who said that ok bye

[earthlyangelbby]

"How do you write such realistic dialogue-" I TALK TO MYSELF. I TALK TO MYSELF AND I PRETEND I AM THE ONE SAYING THE LINE. LIKE SANITY IS SLOWLY SLIPPING FROM BETWEEN MY FINGERS WITH EVERY MEASLY WORD THEY TYPE OUT. THAT IS HOW.

[earthlyangelbby]

every time Eddie sits on the roof the trailer, feeling lost and alone in the great big world, a little bird will stoop down a few feet away from him and chirp before taking off.

he starts to think it’s his mom’s way of telling him it’s okay.

it makes him not feel so alone.