#corroded coffin fanfic

[bvtbxtch]

Don't it Make You Feel | E.M x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: The state championships for the battle of the bands brings in new opportunities for your Fort Wayne band Head Case. Things flip on their head when you meet who you'll be competing against...

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Series Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI!, Smut, Fluff, Angst (would it be a bvtbxtch fanfic without all three?), mentions of abusive relationships, p in v sex, oral sex, kissing, cuddling, violence, mention of drugs and alcohol, being drunk, romance under the influence. By clicking the read more, you are confirming you are over the age of 18!

Word Count: ~ 7250

Author's Note: Hello everyone! It has been a while since I have posted and I have taken a much needed little hiatus. I am so happy to be back and I have been cooking this fanfic for a while! I heard the song Don't It Make You Feel by Chilliwack and my brain kind of short circuited around how much I love this song, and the rest kind of fell into place!

The large van that you piled into was practically sparking with all of the energy radiating through it. You had taken this sleepy route several times before, the flatlands and farms seeming so miniscule now. You could all feel it. This was your break to get out of Northern Indiana and make a new life for yourselves, there was only one band that stood in the way. You clutched the flyer with your band and their band name in big font. The word final in the center of the page, in big block letters felt so - well, final. There was an urgency about them. You and the boys bounced down the highway in your guitarist’s beaten up, overfilled van. You had all made a mixtape for the adventure, and it sent you flying down the I-69. But none of you felt that you could get to the Whiskey Barrel Bar fast enough. You looked out the window and dreamed of singing in the luxe studio of Round Table Records, the radio signals buzzing in your brain. 

The sun was quickly setting, unlike your determination. The bar was dimly lit with whatever spotlights the dive bar could find. You unpacked your equipment and started your sound check, your heart dropping at every open door, anticipating the meeting between the band you were dueling. You knew that it would be a fierce fight, that if they wanted this even half of what you and the band did, you were going to have to bring your A game.

Your sound check went great, guitars wailing, kicks of the drums setting the pace of your own heartbeat. Your voice had the bar techs raising their eyebrows and bobbing their heads. If there weren’t any more unknowns, you would feel unstoppable; but the question marks over who this ‘Corroded Coffin’ was made you uneasy. 

The posse of bandmates found their way back to the greenroom - if you could call it that. You grabbed your fanny pack and pulled out a bright pink bullet of lipstick, your eyeliner pencil, and a lighter. You leaned into the dingy mirror as you warmed your eyeliner up over the lighter. You pressed the softening kohl to your waterline, smoking out your bright eyes.

“Hey doll, can I borrow that light?” Joey, your bassist, smiled with a cigarette pressed between his teeth. His large frame teetered over you as you leaned up to light his smoke. Suddenly, the door flew open and four mops of hair strutted into the room. 

“Well, well, well. Guess this is our fresh meat…” One man with luscious brown curls sneered. He was tall, pale, and covered with tattoos. His tone was ruthless, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. The rest of his gaggle followed behind him, snickering back at your band in the room. You grimaced at the attempt to intimidate and you rolled your eyes at Joey. He gave you a pat on the shoulder and turned to the man who invaded your space.

“You guys must be Corroded Coffin. I’m Joey, I’m bass.” He held out his hand for the man to shake  “That’s Owen. He’s on drums, and Dave and Jake over there are our guitars. This is-” Joey was cut off before you could step forward with a curt wave. 

“I don’t need to know who your roadie is, tool.” The man puffed his chest out and pressed into Joey’s outstretched hand. “Listen. We don’t need to know who you are, and you don’t need to know us. All you need to know is Corroded Coffin will be the band that kicks your sorry ass back to wherever you came from, got it?” His words shot through the room like knives, instantly raising the tension of everyone there. Joey backed off but you couldn’t help but snort at the mystery in front of you; suddenly all pairs of eyes in the room were on you. The dusty blond haired guy looked to his leader with worry, the larger man, with short curled hair shifted his eyes between their friendly looking fourth and the man squared up in front of your bassist. The last member of the band had a beautiful dark complexion and a friendly face - He looked like the least likely person in the room to want to start a fight. Joey retreated to the ripped leather couch the remaining three members of your band settled around. The man’s combat boots stomped closer to you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I asked for your opinion, babe.” He smelled intoxicatingly of whiskey, weed and smokey cologne. You bit your lip to prevent you from straight punching him in the face. “This is a band issue… why are you even back here? Don’t you have some beers to grab?” That was it. You pushed yourself away from the mirror and into the snarling man’s space. “This is our house, our rules. You’re lucky you’ve stayed back here so long.”

“Oh. I get it. You’re gonna go after the people you don’t even know to try and intimidate. Jeez guys” you turned to your boys staring helplessly at you, a silent plea to let it go. “Sounds like someone is trying to overcompensate for something.” You looked the man up and down, taking an extra moment at his hips. When you met back with his face, you could see bright red cheeks and a furious furrow in his fluffy brows. His breath was heavy, almost blowing the hair off your collar bone with how close the two of you were. Joey rose from his seat and took a few steps toward you, you waved him off and he froze in place.

“Now let’s get something straight. We have every right to be here. I have every right to be here. So are we gonna get along nicely, or keep huffing and puffing like oafs?” You looked past the blubbering man in front of you to the rest of his stunned bandmates. 

“Whatever.” The mess of hair turned to Joey. “Get your bitch under control.” His eyes bore into you. As angry as they were, there was a curiosity, and eagerness to know more about you. Before you could wind back to slap his smug face silly, Joey’s strong arms had grabbed your waist and pulled you back. Another shit eating grin came from the man donned in a battle jacket and tight ripped denim. He retreated back to his band on the side of the green room he had claimed as his. He couldn’t help, however, to glue his eyes to where Joey touched you. He soothingly rubbed up and down your arms and led you to the couch with a hand on your lower back. When you sat, he rubbed a hand on your knee. You caught his eye with an icy, daring stare. Before he had time to react, a large man in dark clothing burst into the room.

“Eddie, you guys are on.”

“Well, kids. I would say it’s been fun, but my Uncle told me it's a sin to lie so…” With a showboaty bow, this so-called Eddie bounced out of the room, followed by the rest of his bandmates.

“Come on,” you hopped up and checked your reflection one more time. “We should watch this”. With a groan and head shakes, the rest of your band followed suit. 

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Finale of this year’s Indiana Battle of the Bands!” the host boomed. “We are stoked to have the top two contenders in the state - our Southern finalists, Corroded Coffin,” the bar roared with applause. “And our Northern finalists, all the way from Fort Wayne, Head Case!” There was a polite enough applause for your band, but you knew you were the underdogs, away from home, and eager to win the house over. 

“These two bands will be competing for the grand prize of a recording session with Indianapolis’ very own Round Table Records to produce their very own song! They will also get to feature their song to a panel of Label Executives from around the country and get a segment on Q 95 FM!” Your heart pushed its beat into your throat. 

“Up first, we have Hawkins’ very own Corroded Coffin!” The host ran off the stage and the lights dimmed. You saw the shadowy figures of the boys you met in the dressing room slither onto the stage. The thrum of the bass and kick of the drums made vibrations run up your feet. The lights flickered on to reveal the arrogant sack of shit strumming his guitar like he was making love to it. The familiar riff of For Whom the Bell Tolls.

 You can’t deny, the man has charisma. He excites the crowd, feeds them what they want and then takes it away. He gets down on his knees and throws his shirt at the desperate girls waiting to get at him after the set. His glistening chest is as pale as his face, with galaxies of unreadable tattoos dance across his skin as he moves. His guitar is an extension of him, when he strikes chords, his whole body reacts. His eyes searched the small sea of people who have joined in the mosh and locked eyes with yours. He strutted his way to the other side of the stage where you and your bandmates stood, arms crossed over your chest. A few thrusts of his hips in your direction, as well as a tongue wag and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He laughed as he returned to his microphone to complete the chorus.

“Let’s go,” you whispered to Dave. “We gotta get ready to go up.”

You felt slightly humiliated going up after the tsunami of applause Corroded Coffin received. Luckily, Eddie and his gang jumped right off the stage to the bar, into the arms of waiting women and men wanting to buy them drinks. You didn’t have to deal with any last minute intimidation efforts. You locked in and hugged your boys as the host boomed over the mic. 

“And lastly, our finalists up north, give it up for Head Case!”

-

Eddie sat smug at the bar. Confident the four losers that he had seen in the green room were no match for the absolute sex Corroded Coffin just had with the audience. He turned his back to the stage and faced Gareth, Jeff and Doug with a smug grin, and signaled to the gruff looking barback to get them a round of beers; A celebration, albeit premature, they thought they all deserved. Their faces grew pale with shock, and Eddie choked on his mouthful of beer when your band played their first note. 

You stumbled over snakes of wires and to the dimmed front of the stage. The tech’s stood at the ready to light your bodies. Your sweaty hands gripped the microphone on its stand, emitting a small whine. You looked back and gave a jittery nod and with that, a flourish of drums started, you let out an excited yell into the microphone, the rest felt like a sweaty, loud, heart pumping blur.

Eddie spun wildly around in his seat when he heard you. His gaze transfixed in bewilderment on your figure positioned where he just was. You looked nervous, but still confident. How the fuck did you do that? He felt his face grow hot and the stares of Gareth, Jeff and Doug shifted between him and the stage. It took you to the chorus to really get comfortable, but the audience were still eating you up. You bent down and grabbed hands and sent winks and serenades throughout the crowd. He never won anyone over that easily. 

“If I didn’t know you better, Munson. I would say you’re getting jealous.” Jeff teased, with a pat on the shoulder. Eddie shluffed him off with a grunt and continued to loathingly watch you. 

“Fuck, she’s a natural…” Every ounce of post-gig confidence he had dissolved with Gareth’s comment. They were in trouble.

“Please,” Eddie turned back to the bar and stared into the bottom of his beer bottle. He gestured for one more. He turned back around, nursing his new beverage, to see you crawling on the floor, soaking up all the shouts and hollers everyone was giving you. Your hair had grown stringy, and your skin glowy with sweat. You hopped up off the floor and sauntered over to your bassist. Eddie snorted as you rolled your hips against his wide stance. You plucked at the chords he was to be playing. Eddie would never let someone - especially someone like you - touch his guitar. You were doing this all for show, to distract from…. Fuck, he couldn’t even say subpar music… He hated to admit it, but you were really good. He flipped his curly head back to the bartender.

“Two whiskeys, Del.” He winked. He gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath, “We’re gonna fucking need them.”

You were vibrating with adrenaline. The past 3 and a half minutes seemed to last for hours, and mere seconds at the same time. Your chest was heaving as your band shuttled each other off the stage. Electric current danced across your skin as you congratulated your bandmates and waited, in frazzled anticipation, for the MC to retake the stage. A manicured nail tapped you on the shoulder. You turned to see one of the barbacks with a tray of shots in her hand. 

“Courtesy of the boys at the bar” she purred. You peeked past the tattered excuse for a curtain that separated offstage from on, to see Eddie sprawled out on his barstool. He lifted his glass to you, shit eating grin never leaving his face. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your boys, who had happily accepted the shots, and picked your tiny glass off the woman’s tray. The amber liquid burned down your throat. You grimaced away the urge to spit the liquid back out and shot a wincing smile at Joey. He wrapped his arms around you with a giggle. Nothing could break your excitement - or so you thought. 

“Wow… quite the… show you put on out there.” Eddie’s sneering voice made yours and Joey's giggles mute. You broke away from his embrace. 

“Told you I wasn’t a groupie.” You challenged. Eddie couldn’t help but let his eyes rake over your glistening body. Your chest still heaved with excitement. The valley between your breasts shone with extra sweat, your tank top just hiding your bra from view. Your legs were elongated by the tattered shorts and combat boots you wore, tattoos littering your arms and thighs. He couldn’t help but wonder what other ink you had that he couldn’t see. He knew he wasn’t being discreet, but would only blame the beers and whiskeys he had already consumed. You flashed him a disgusted look, which brought him back down to reality. 

“Thought I would bring you one more consolation shot before we send your sorry asses back North.” Eddie’s chortle rattled in your chest. He shoved another small glass into your hands.

“Here’s to being the best frontmen of Indiana.” His eyes swallowed you whole as you rolled yours at him. 

“Whatever Eddie, you’re just being nice so it doesn’t hurt so bad when you lose.” You slammed the shot down and handed him back the empty glass. You whipped yourself back around to your waiting bandmates. Eddie stood dumbfounded, left to retreat to the other men standing behind him, donning matching faces. 

The speakers squealed and the crowds hushed as the MC took his place on stage. The only thing you could hear was your pounding heartbeat in your ears. The mic boomed the winners of the competition, then Head Case’s name was called and everything in your body went numb. The following moments will always be a blur - Ironically, they will be moments Eddie Munson will never forget. Your smile nearly split your face in half. The boys jumped around you and you all rushed the stage. Corroded Coffin clapped politely, but you could feel a shiver of cold run down your spine while Eddie directed his jealous energy solely on you. Joey grabbed your waist and brought you in for a chaste kiss on the cheek. You swore, even over all of the cheering, you could hear Eddie Munson scoff. You turned to him and your grin faltered slightly. You pushed yourself away from your boys and to the microphone perched on the stand. You grabbed the mic and cleared your raspy throat. 

“Thank you all, so much! But let’s give a hand to Corroded Coffin!” You looked over to the wings where the rival band stood in surprise. You waved them on with an encouraging flail of your hand. All of the boys shrugged and with a laugh took the stage - All but one…

Eddie took the stage like a man on a mission. His eyes were burning with rage. You and your band shook hands with the three members of Corroded Coffin. Eddie pushed his way up to you, and you stood almost chest to chest, his aura was intoxicating to you. You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. You flashed him a sorry smile and stuck your hand out. 

“Good job, Eddie. You guys sounded awesome.” Eddie’s face didn’t move. He stayed cold and his chest heaved. 

“You won this round, sweetheart. But let’s be honest here. You won’t last a second in the industry. You’ll have to do a lot of favors to get your music out there. Just like you did to score your musicians.” Your face bloomed bright red and your eyes glazed over. You wanted to run away, to leave the stage and sit in the back of the van and cry until you got home. But this was your win. This was your moment. You willed the tears back into your eyes, jutted your hand out towards his and stared straight into Eddie’s dark brown doe eyes.

“Anything else you wanna say, Eddie? Or can I go back to celebrating with my band now?” You stood, unmoving. It was his turn to turn red. His cheeks flushed pink and his eyes smoldered with loathing. He turned away from you, leaving your hand outstretched waiting to greet him. 

-

Eddie could barely look at you. Fuck, he didn’t even want to be in the goddamn building anymore - he heard the burly MC call your band’s name and not his and he just saw red. What, did you win because you were one of the only female-led acts in the whole competition? God, it had to have been. Fuck you and your charm and talent. It didn’t help that you were trying to be nice too. It would have been so much easier to hate you if you were just an asshole. But of course you weren’t. You were too nice for your own good, but you put him in his place. Your smile on the stage was as intoxicating as the shot he had just taken. Your smooth voice oozed charisma - it was sickly sweet and Eddie hated that he wanted to hear it in the confines of his own bedroom. He heard you get loud, but what your voice would sound like whispering in his ear, what your small moans would sound like as he - 

He needed to get out of here. This was all too much. Your stubbornness, your determination threw him. He was angry and he said things he immediately regretted because he was insecure.  He couldn’t be on stage with you, let alone act nicely to you. He made a beeline for the back door exit. The boys could celebrate without him. Eddie kept his head down, his mouth fumbling with the cigarette from behind his ear pressed between his lips. His head ran into a strong chest with an ‘oof’.

“Hey, what the fuck man. Watch where you’re going.”

“Rough night, Munson?” The smooth bass voice made Eddie swivel his head up in wonder. An older man, in his mid to late 50’s stood. His salt-and-pepper hair had been slicked back neatly. He had on an oversized leather blazer, matched with a dark t-shirt and dark cowboy boots. The man smelled of expensive Whiskey and money. Eddie straightened up and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it back behind his ear.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, don’t get your dick in a twist about it” The man chuckled. The force that stood before measly Eddie Munson was Richard Beaucanon - owner and operator of Round Table Records, the man who was supposed to make Corroded Coffin’s dreams come true. He had about half of the record execs and radio hosts on the East Coast in his pocket. He laid a large hand on Eddie’s shoulder and the boy flinched. 

“You can’t be leaving yet, your bandmates are gonna miss you.”

“No they won’t-”

“Are you seriously throwing a fucking temper tantrum because you didn’t win? Because a little girl went to shake your hand and didn’t take your shit?” Eddie was pinned under Richard’s gaze. He was stuck for words. Barely a squeak left his mouth before Richard continued on. “It would be too bad too. Because I was so impressed with the talent I saw today, I wanted to reward both bands with a little something. But I’m not going to do that with a partial band standing up on the stage. So quit your fucking moping because you got beat by some bitch and her pets from up north.” His words gave Eddie a nervous cramp in his stomach. He was quick to call you any name under the sun, but he felt an urge to protect you from the man’s words. Richard sent a hard slap to Eddie’s back and glided towards the backstage area. Eddie punched the concrete wall in front of him and headed to the dingy bar floor to meet back up with the rest of the band - who, unbeknownst to them, were in for a far bigger treat than getting a shoutout from some stupid band up north - led by some stupidly beautiful, kind, sharp girl. Fuck Head Case. 

You jumped off the stage with the rest of your band and Corroded Coffin, absolutely horrified from the encounter you and Eddie had on stage. You didn’t let anyone else in the band know the devastation that happened on stage between you and the other lead singer. Joey kissed the top of your head before heading towards the bar. You stopped to thank your ex-rivals-turned-friends. 

“We didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves on stage.” You shouted over the calamity of the bar. You introduced yourself with a handshake to the three boys standing in front of you with a chuckle. The blonde mop headed drummer came forward first. 

“I’m Gareth” he smiled at you. “This is Jeff, and Doug” you happily took their hands again, but pulled each of them into a hug. As you pulled away from Doug, you were met with the towering, lanky brunette, whose eyes were boring into you. 

“And, of course, you met Eddie.” Gareth offered coldly. 

“Sure did,” Eddie mumbled. “But I need to talk to my band though, so if you don’t mind-” Before Eddie could turn away you found the courage to confront him for his stunt on stage. It was now or never.

“What is your deal, Eddie? Are you that much of a fucking pussy that when you get beat you go all ‘I hate women’? That’s very elementary of you. It’s so interesting. I’ve read a lot about Corroded Coffin and you specifically. The whole ride down here, I was so nervous to meet you, to compete against you, but you’re not scary or intimidating. Hell, to have this much of an attitude, you have to be pretty fucking talented… and I don’t think you’re good enough for this ego you have.” Without letting Eddie speak, you turned on your heel back to the boys standing, slack jawed and left them with a sincere smile and an invitation to come grab shots with you any time. Eddie couldn’t help but watch your hips sway while you walked into the arms of your other bandmates. Fuck, he wanted to punch that Joey guy out. He handed you a shot, and Eddie could see the hunger in his eyes as he watched you tip your head back to shoot back the clear liquor that you were given. 

“Way to fucking go, Eddie.” Jeff hit his chest. It shook Eddie out of his trance and looked at his bandmates with fiery eyes. He changed the subject before he could think too much about how much of a dick he was.

“Yeah, way to go Eddie. Because guess who the fuck I ran into?” He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The men looked at him quizzically. Before he could answer, the stage lights returned to highlight Richard Beaucanon on stage. Eddie shook his bandmates and pulled them towards the stage. Richard looked like a marble statue, strong, authoritative, exactly where he needed to be. Eddie quickly turned to sneak a peek at your surprised face. Your perfect lips were formed into an ‘oh’ and your eyes were bright. You knew who he was. 

“Sorry to interrupt the party, folks,” Richard’s voice soared through the venue. “But I have some things to announce. I’m Richard Beaucanon, the owner and founder of Round Table Records here in Indianapolis. I came down tonight because I happened to catch wind of these two talented bands through respective DJs in Hawkins and Fort Wayne. I think I can say for the whole room, we certainly got a great show tonight!” the crowd hollered. You clapped excitedly. Joey and Owen on either side of you, bumping shoulders and holding your hands. You never thought that the Richard Beaucanon would be here - hell even if you won, you doubted he would ever hear your band play. But there he was. “My sincerest congratulations to Head Case for their amazing performance tonight. But I want to congratulate Corroded Coffin as well.” You felt your heart sink to your feet. You were happy for all of the new friends you had made, but Eddie. How can someone so vile get rewarded for such shitty behavior? “I am signing Corroded Coffin to a 2 album deal, as well as the chance to work in the studio for a jam session with the industry’s hottest producers. We got some talent on our hands, y’all!”

You felt your body go numb for the second time tonight. You watched in frustration as the band took the stage to shake hands with the owner of your record label. You pulled yourself away from your bandmates and over to a lonely corner of the bar. You raised your hand for a shot of whatever the hell the bartender could get in your hand fast enough. You needed to think. You needed to think - or maybe not think. The only thing you could think of is numbing this confusion. You sat and ordered two more before Joey came to your side. 

“What you doing, honey? We should be celebrating together!” He squeezed your thigh and his touch felt like poison. You crossed your leg over the other to pull his hand off of yours. 

“I just feel like we were bulldozed. Like what’s the point if we both won? Where’s our special treatment? This feels a lot like home field advantage.” You scowled into your empty shot glass. You raised your hand for another, but Joey signaled to the bartender to cut you off. You whined at him. He got off the stool and spun you towards his body. He also reeked of alcohol - as he should - you thought - they have a right to celebrate; they weren’t the ones that were bullied by a man that’s now getting everything he wanted. Joey’s hands rested on your shoulders. 

“Come on, babe, this is supposed to be our night!” You shrugged Joey off.

“I know, Joe. I just need some time alone to process.” He sighed, disappointed that you weren’t entertaining his advances.

“And that Eddie-”

“Nevermind about him,” you snapped at the man in front of you, mouth shut in rejection. “I can handle him - We can handle him. I just, I just need some time to think, please, Joe.”

“We just wanna celebrate with you, Y/N. Come find us when you’re ready, and maybe drink some water.” God, Joey could be touchy. 

Eddie watched you retreat into yourself in the corner of the bar. He had consumed shots after shots after beer, after whiskey cokes, and between each new beverage, his eyes trained back to you; secretly hoping that someone would come up and save you - but also wishing no one would so he could be the one to come whisk you away. He was conflicted, and angry, but entranced by you. The alcohol was making him lose his composure.

“Why the fuck is she there all by herself?” Eddie slurred into Gareth’s ear. “Like where the fuck is her band?” he chided. 

“I don’t know dude. Why the hell do you care? You were a complete ass to her.” Gareth scolded. Eddie waved his friend’s words away from him like smoke blown in his face.

“She’s like the only talented one in their band. Too bad she’s a pain in my ass and she fucking hates me” he chuckled. “She could do better.”

“Yeah, better than you even!” Jeff added. “Go talk to her then, if you’re so worried. Or are you scared you’re gonna come back with third degree burns like last time?” Eddie shrugged them off, downed his drink and shuffled his way over to where you were sitting. 

-

The bar was starting to spin in circles. You did not heed the advice given to you and downed more drinks and shots, some to your own volition, others thrust upon you from new fans or admirers, but you took the drink and shooed them away. You sat there, drowning in your own sorrows, when you felt a presence sit in the barstool beside you. You looked to your side to see the last (and admittedly first) person you wanted to see at the bar - hell ever again. You rolled your eyes and snorted. He looked almost as drunk as you: dark eyes highlighted by red veins around his irises. His pale skin was highlighted in a sweaty glow, and his cheeks were a pale pink. He smelled just as intoxicating as when you first met him, but it was now underscored with tequila and beer. His brows furrowed in what you thought was concern. It made you laugh at him again. 

“Can I help you, sir?” you sneered at him. “Come to give me more advice?” You wanted to turn away from him, to slide off your stool and into the night and hope to never see him again, because the knot in your stomach was getting too much to bare. You hated that Eddie Munson didn’t like you. You couldn’t stand the fact that he thought of you as just another slut that didn’t have talent. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from spiraling.

“I.. I guess I just wanted to check on you.” He scratched the back of his head. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night, I just-” he sighed. Why the fuck did he come over here? He just wanted to be close to you, to get another shot. He liked seeing you smiling and bubbly, like the beginning of the night. He loathed to admit it, because you still pissed him the hell off, but he would do just about whatever it took to see you smile.

“I’m fine. Not that you care..”

“I.. I do though. I shouldn’t have said that shit on stage. I was angry and upset and I really didn’t mean it.” You dared to look at the man and you were entrapped, his slight pout reeled you in. You let your vulnerability show as your eyes twinkled with uncried tears. 

“You mean it?” you whimpered. It took everything for Eddie to not pull you into his chest and take you away from this shitty bar. A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be sitting in a dark bar, tears staining your face. He fucked up so badly. He smiled tightly at you and nodded.

“How about we start again?” He stuck his hand out towards you. “I’m Eddie Munson, and I’m a big fan. Can I buy you a drink?” You tried to hide your smile, to no avail. You both giggled and you grabbed his hand. 

“I'm Y/N L/N, and I’ll let you buy me a drink only if I can buy you one after.” You offered. The two of you giggled as Eddie waved the bartender over. 

“One of whatever the lovely lady wants and a whiskey for me.” You beamed at Eddie and gave the tender your order. If the alcohol you already had didn’t knock you on your ass, being around Eddie sure would. 

Time flew, and you felt like if you weren’t holding onto the bar, you would drift away. Eddie told you about Hawkins, and being the resident freak, about how he thought he would die in Hawkins High and that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t ever go anywhere. You told him about living in Fort Wayne and wanting to play at the Embassy Theatre with all of your being. You wanted to go to Jacob’s School of Music, but couldn’t pay the tuition. How you longed to get out of Indiana, and to some place far away from your shitty dad, and without your band - a point of conflict for you because you loved them all, but they were a band long before you came around, and Eddie’s point about being a girl in a band that doesn’t respect women is hard. Head Case was the first time you had ever been taken seriously. Eddie listened intently, your filter was broken with the alcohol and Eddie’s intoxicating presence. Two hours ago, you were sitting alone, hating the man that was sitting with you now, and you had no idea how you were just going to turn around and go back home. 

On the other side of the venue sat Joey and Owen, entertaining the groupies that came to chat. But Joey’s eyes laid fixedly on you, sitting with the fucking loser that talked so much shit about their band earlier that night. 

“I don’t fucking like that Eddie guy,” he seethed. He ran his fingers through his dusty brown curls and gritted his teeth. 

“Don’t like him or don’t like that he’s flirting with your girl?” Owen teased. Joey sent him a smack to the chest. 

“I don’t like the fact that he said some really out of pocket shit, and she’s still sitting there talking to him like a dummy. I should go get her,” Joey slid out of his chair and past waiting fans towards you. 

“I’ll fucking solve this Munson problem” he whispered under his breath, and cracked his knuckles.

You and Eddie laughed loudly. You let out another small snort that made both of you laugh harder. Eddie couldn’t believe that something so perfect could be packaged into a person like you. You went to push the metalhead on the shoulder and slid off your stool with a ‘woop’. Instinctually, Eddie grabbed your arm and waist to prevent you from falling to the floor. His face dropped dangerously close to yours; all it would take is for you to lean up and your lips would connect. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. As you closed your eyes and willed your body to do what it thought it should, a firm hand pulled you backwards and out of Eddie’s arms. Your back flew flat to a toned chest. A familiar stubble glided across your ear.

“You’re drunk and it’s time to go.” Joey’s smooth voice sounded rough and stern. It sent a shiver down your back. Eddie jumped out of his seat and towards Joey. 

“I think she can make decisions for herself, big man,” Eddie threatened. 

“She can barely fucking stand. Think I’m gonna leave my girl with a fuckhead like you?” Joey scoffed. Your eyes finally surrendered the tears that wanted to fall all night as Joey pulled you to the door. 

His girl. His girl?! You hadn’t mentioned anything about him. Why weren’t you two together earlier in the night? He was confused, angry, and (although he would never admit it) slightly heartbroken. He grabbed his leather jacket that he had perched on the back of the stool and pushed through the crowd and out the door after you. He had time to see your small body being crumpled into the back of a taxi. Joey was about to duck in after you, but saw Eddie standing stunned in the cool Indiana night. He stalked towards the man now clenching his fists in anticipation.

“Hey, Munson. I’m gonna tell you a little something. You’re a fucking loser, bro. She’s not into one night stands and she would never date a fucking freak like you. So back the fuck off before I have to put you in place myself.” He pushed Eddie back, but all Eddie could focus on was you hanging out the window, silently pleading with the fuckass in front of him. 

“Hey, Joey is it? Fuck yourself. Make sure she gets home safe. Take her to her hotel room, or wherever the hell you’re staying and tuck her in and stay the fuck away from her.” Eddie pushed his index finger into Joey’s chest. “Or I will drive up to Fort Wayne and kill you myself.” Eddie leaned around the man in front of him and waved to you. You sent him a nervous smile and a wave. Eddie stepped back and leaned against the wall and watched your cab disappear into the night. You sat backwards in your seat to watch Eddie’s figure shrink into nothing before turning back around with a sigh. Joey rested a hand on your bare knee and rubbed circles into your skin that felt like sandpaper. 

“Let’s get you back to the hotel and nice and comfy, doll. Okay?” you silently shook your head at the boy beside you, wishing it was the mopheaded, dimple-cheeked boy you sat with at the bar all night. 

Eddie let out a long sigh and crinkled his nose with a heartbroken sigh. He pulled the cigarette hiding behind his ear and popped it in his mouth. At least he could finally have his smoke. 

You woke up with the same pounding in your head that you felt in your heart. The slow streets of Indianapolis were bustling already. You glanced over to the alarm clock on the side table in your small hotel room, reading 11:42am. You groaned, grabbed the glass of water by your bed and sat yourself up. You loathed getting back into a van with your bandmates and going home. In protest to all the fibers in your body, you packed your small bag, got yourself ready for the trip back home and shut the door to your hotel room behind you. 

The rest of your band sprawled across the lobby, waiting for you and Joey. They looked as bad as you did; Owen and Dave looked as green as the tacky carpet and Jake had barely lifted his head to wish you a good morning. You sulked to the reception and dropped your key on the desk with a tight smile. The young woman who took your key gasped in remembrance.

“Oh! Someone left a note for you.” She slid a small, tattered piece of paper folded into a messy square. You picked up the note cautiously. You unfolded it. It took a moment to realize what you were reading, but when you did you continued with a shy, excited  smile.

Your pulse quickened when you finished reading the note. You held it to your heart and said a thank you to the woman smiling knowingly at you. You pulled it away from your chest to make sure the ink was still preserved when the note was hastily snatched from your hands. 

“What’s this?” Joey’s voice taunted. You could hear the sneer in his voice, but it was panged with insecurity. His eyes glazed over the note and looked at you in surprise. His voice was playful to everyone else’s ears, but you could feel the venom in his words.

“Look, guys,” Joey got the attention of the waiting boys in the lobby. They glanced over to the two of you. “Y/N Has a little admirer.” Your eyes were burning with angry tears. You lunged for the note, but Joey was faster. He wagged his finger at you as he read the chicken scratch. You wished you could snap it off. 

“Wow, Eddie Munson underestimated you… Do you care to elaborate?” His eyes bored into you. The room was constricting and you needed air. 

“Nothing, Joey. We were just talking.”

“Oh, this was about when he called you all those lovely names in the green room? Or backstage?” His eyes narrowed and yours fixated on the floor. You squirmed under Joey’s gaze, your bandmates feeling just as awkward as you now. 

“He said he was-”

“Oh I know, I can read.” Joey stepped towards you, but didn’t lower his tone. “What did you do to convince him otherwise? God who would have known what would have happened if I didn’t take your sorry ass back last night? God, Y/N that was embarrassing.”

“Joey, knock it off man, it’s no biggie. We were all drunk last night.” Jake defended. He was silenced by the sharp look he received. 

“Yeah, but we don’t get taken advantage of like she does. Hope it was worth it, doll, because you don’t need men like Eddie Munson in your life, and you won’t be seeing him anymore.” Joey sauntered over to a garbage can in the lobby and shredded the flimsy paper in his hands, along with your heart. His eyes never left yours. Your breath was caught in your throat and the molten tears finally spilled down your eyes. You grabbed your bag that had been dropped on the floor and stormed out of the hotel. The gaggle of shocked men followed behind you, each one giving Joey a disappointed glare on the way out. Dave was the last out, Joey following behind him. 

“It was for her own good.” Joey tried to reason. Dave shook his head and scoffed him off. He swung the keys on his finger before hopping in the shabby van. You found your seat in the back by the instruments and pulled your Walkman out of your bag. You hastily shoved your headphones over your ears and desperately hoped the booming bass of the Beastie Boys would drown out any of the men’s voices. It was going to be a long ride back home.

Part two soooooon...

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[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Just Friends

A/N- i didn’t realize how long it’s been since i’ve posted a fic with all the boys in it!! i really miss getting to write for all of them 🥹

Summary- During a catch up with the boys after summer break, they learn of the unfortunate reason why you broke up with your most recent ex.

Genre- Fluff (?)

Warnings- Bad boyfriends doing bad boyfriend things 🙃

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology

(my tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 2.1k

The first summer after high school always felt like a weird one.

Wether you had college waiting for you at the end of August or a job lined up for some quick work, catching up with the people you knew best was always so refreshing. Especially after not seeing them for nearly two months.

You walked into the bar you’d snuck into for one of their shows so many times before. You were grateful the owner let it slide whenever he caught you sneaking beers, especially when you stayed after to help clean after a set. Your eyes scanned the room, searching around for them and smiling once you saw Jeff waving his hand for you.

The boys were all smiles, and as you quickly made your way to the table they stood up one by one to give you a long awaited and much needed hug.

“Hi!” You exclaimed excitedly, “It feels like it’s been forever.”

“Two months is forever.” Jeff said with a smile as you hugged one another, Grant standing up after him.

“Why’d you leave us here to fend for ourselves?” Grant laughed as his arms went around you.

“It’s not my fault my family decided the reunion was gonna be out of state,” You rolled your eyes, “if it was my decision, we wouldn’t have had a reunion at all.”

“Reunion?” Eddie said as he stood to take Grants place, “So we’re not family anymore?”

“You shush.” You smiled, “My family’s cool with us smelling like weed and watching horror movies in the basement, my EXTENDED family is not.”

“Well it sounds like they don’t know how to have a good time.” Gareth was last up, laughing to himself.

“Clearly!” You agreed, sitting down in the empty chair they had left for you and grabbing the one still-capped bottle of beer. “Enough about me, how was it up here without me? Anything change with you guys?”

Eddie spoke up first after a sip from his bottle,

“I got that job at the body shop a few miles outside the park.” He said with a smile, shrugging it off as if it was no big deal, “Pays been pretty good, and it’s full time too.”

“That’s awesome!” You cheered, “I’m happy for you Eds, i know you’ve been checking that place out for a while.”

“Yeah, it just sucks when it cuts into stuff for the band, y’know?”

“Well yeah, but that’s just how grown up jobs work.” You shrugged, taking a sip from the bottle in your hand.

“True.” He shrugged, taking another sip before Jeff cut into the conversation.

“Me and Gareth were able to get some classes in at that local community college. They’re supposed to start next Monday.”

“That’s great! Are you just trying to get the gen-ed’s done, or do you think you’ll stick around?” You asked them.

“I’ll definitely be sticking around.” Gareth chuckled, “Mr. Honor Roll over there wants to get the gen-ed’s done so he can get into state.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a community college degree, i just want to make sure that i get the required stuff out of the way IF i go off to state.” Jeff said to Gareth, “And the only reason i said i’d go to state in the first place was because my parents were listening. If the choice was mine i’d stay here.”

“Still, it’s good that you guys were able to get in there. Do you know what you’re majoring in?”

“I’m going undecided for right now,” Jeff said after a sip from his bottle, “but i think Gareth is going for History?”

“Yep, U.S. history.” Gareth nodded with a smile, “I mean i think it’s already pretty interesting, i might as well get a degree in it.”

“Good idea. Good for you guys though, i might see if they have any classes open to get a few more credits while i’m at work. Grant?” You looked over to him across the table, “You said your dad was able to get a good word in for you with his union, did you hear anything back about that?”

“Yeah! I actually started all the training and schooling for it last month,” He said with a smile, “in another two months i’ll be an iron worker.”

“That’s great! I’m so happy for all you guys, it sounds like it’s been pretty eventful without me here.”

“What about you, (y/n)?” Gareth asked, “Anything interesting happen for you?”

“Not really.” You smiled and shrugged, thinking back over the last two months, “Same old, same old. I’m still gonna be working with my mom at the office, it’s been pretty stable thus far and if i make it to a year they make it fairly easy to move up so i’ll probably stick with that for a while. And while i was at the reunion a few people were asking about you guys.”

“Really?” Eddie asked, “Who asked about us?”

“A lot of the younger cousins. They wanted to hear all about my friends and their super cool band. And i showed some pictures to grandparents and aunts and uncles, they said we look like a pretty happy bunch. Oh! And i almost forgot, you guys remember my cousin Carlee and her shithead boyfriend?”

They nodded in unison, remembering how you always told them the stories of her boyfriend being anything but.

Never taking her out on dates, never buying her flowers, and of course who can forget the time he said he didn’t have enough money for their water bill but he absolutely had enough money to buy himself a whole new stereo system for his car.

“He proposed. And she said yes.”

They all groaned,

“Really?! Does this girl have no self respect?” Jeff said before you all tipped back your bottles. After something like that, a drink was definitely needed.

“Guess not.” You laughed, “Oh well, not my circus, not my monkeys.”

You all drank from your bottles, and you were about to mention how at the reunion her boyfriend couldn’t stop eyeballing a few of the other cousins all while Carlee was attached at his hip, but Gareth beat you to it,

“What about that guy you told us about a few months ago?” He asked, quickly jogging your memory to the guy you’d been talking to for only a few weeks at the time, “What’s his name?”

“I think it’s Randy, or Roger, or something?” Eddie asked, “Definitely something with an R.”

“Russel?” You said.

“Yes! How’s he doing?” Eddie asked as they all moved to listen about how you and this new guy were doing, especially when they weren’t around to hear all the juicy relationship details.

You smiled to yourself and stifled back a little laugh,

“Oh, he’s long gone.”

“What?!” Jeff exclaimed, “I thought everything was going good with that guy? I remember we met him one time after a show, he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Yeah, seemed like it to me too.” You said with an eye roll, taking the last swig from your bottle before setting the empty onto the table.

“What happened?” Grant asked.

You sighed and thought back to that final day seeing Russel,

“Well, because he was my boyfriend at the time, my parents said he could come along with us to the reunion. He drove me up there with him and everything seemed normal, we were talking just fine, and then we got to a truck stop close by and i saw a payphone and i remembered i had to call you guys…” You cleared your throat, sitting up as the boys were on the edge of their seats. They may be boys, but no one loves gossip like they do, “And as soon as i told him i wanted to call and check in with you guys he just seemed kind of… off? We got to my aunts house for the reunion and he pulled me off to the side and said he really didn’t like how close i was with you guys.”

“Really?” Eddie questioned.

“I’m not finished.” You smiled, “He said that he knows how guy friends are. That all you guys were hoping for was to see me naked, you didn’t actually care about me, and he would know because he said he’s only been friends with girls to try and hook up with them.”

The collective gasps of the boys only made you giggle more.

“That asshole!” Jeff shook his head.

“He said that if i wanted to keep seeing him then i had to stop being friends with you guys. So i told him he can go fuck himself and have a safe drive home.”

“You made him drive all the way back?!” Gareth laughed.

“Absolutely! I’m not going to let some guy tell me who i can and can’t be friends with, and he’s lucky i didn’t put sugar in his gas tank and leave him stranded there.”

Grant laughed, finishing off the last of the beer in his bottle,

“Fuck, well i’m sorry we got in between that.”

“What’s there to apologize for?” You asked, “You guys didn’t do anything wrong. If i date a guy who can’t understand that i’m JUST FRIENDS with all of you, and you’re cool with that, then that’s their problem and not ours. Besides, i’m not going to cut off every guy i know just for some loser.” You giggled with an eye roll.

“I don’t know,” Eddie shrugged, “I just think it’s funny that he said that after we met him. He kept trying to turn the conversation into talking about you? Like he was baiting us into saying something we shouldn’t about you.”

“Did he?” This was news to you, “What did he say? And why did you not tell me?!”

“I remember me and Jeff talking to him and he kept turning and looking at you while you were with Eddie and Grant and he kept trying to get us to look at your ass.” Gareth said with an uncomfortable look on his face.

“And he also kept trying to pry information out of us, and he seemed irritated that we didn’t have anything to tell him.” Jeff said.

“Information like what?” You asked all of them, seeing them exchange glances with one another.

“He asked us if we ever… did anything with you.” Grant said, leaning in and quietly saying the end of his sentence to keep it private from the other patrons in the bar.

“Yeah, he said something really weird to me.” Eddie got the shivers as he remembered the conversation, “He was saying something about you two, definitely not going into detail, but alluding to some mature thing you guys were doing, and he asked if we ever got to experience that side of you instead of this front you put on.”

“Front?” You questioned, getting more and more irritated with your ex the longer this conversation went on, “What did he mean by that?”

“I think he also assumed that since you were friends with us that meant you had… intentions.”

You groaned and leaned back in your chair, not being able to help the laugh that rose up from your lungs,

“What an asshole! And why didn’t you guys tell me?”

“You seemed like you really liked the guy!” Eddie argued.

“We didn’t want to ruin your chances with him,” Jeff said, “You we’re telling us all about how nice he was and when we met him we figured it was just him having word vomit cause he was nervous meeting us.”

You sighed and smiled to yourself, holding your face in your hands.

“Ok, fine, i’ll cut you some slack. But if you guys ever meet anyone i date, or i have the potential to date, and they’re doing weird stuff like that i want you to tell me. Deal?”

“Deal!” They said in unison, the rest of the boys finishing off what was left of the beer in their bottles and placing the empties onto the table.

“Alright, we’ve had our drink,” Eddie stood, stretching his arms over his head, “you guys wanna come back to the trailer and hang? I know Wayne would be happy to see you after so long (y/n).”

“Yeah! It’ll be like old times.” You stood with the boys and smiled, walking out with them as they wandered off to their cars in the lot.

Seeing the boys after so long felt like such a breath of fresh air, and it was nice to know that they always had your best intentions in mind. Even when guys you brought around them were being a little strange.

No matter what, no man could replace those boys’ places in your heart.

[hiscrimsonangel]

Happy New Year to all you talented fan fic writers…. Thanks for helping we who read your works in so many ways… if nothing else, just simply getting us to sit down and read and use our imaginations to explore the world you have created for our favorite comfort characters and shows. Much love to you all.

@azrielgreen @storiesbyrhi @eddieandbird @fairyysoup @stervrucht @spicyspino @eddiemunsonsmum @wheels-of-despair @stevieschrodinger @lokis-army-77 @harrywavycurly @sofiiel @edzmunson86 @themunsonator5000 @jemmacdraws @paradimeshifts7 @magicalmysteries777 and so so many others. 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[dreamwatch]

What a way to make a livin'

Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest May warm-up round.

Prompt: Get a job | Word Count: 992 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Tags: they're idiots, first jobs, banter, angst free zone! | AO3

****

Being the youngest often meant being the last to do things within his peer group.

He was the last to get a driver’s license, so they fell into a routine of Eddie and Jeff driving them everywhere. Long tiring drive after a gig? Not for Gareth. He’s sleeping in the back, thank you very much.

He knows Jeff and Eddie have lost their virginity, because all they ever fucking do is talk about it. Gareth’s still on the waiting list for that particular life experience. (Matt is secretive at the best of times so the jury is out there.)

And of course, he was the last to graduate. He felt so guilty about that because they waited for him, even Eddie, who was living off cigarettes and caffeine and desperate to get the fuck away from a place where people still wanted him dead. 

Despite all that, somehow Gareth was the first to get a job when they moved to Indianapolis. Maybe it was his winsome charm, or his youthful good looks, or perhaps it was because he wasn’t as fussy as the three fucking princesses he lives with now.

So yeah, it’s a Taco Bell, not something to shout about, but it’s a fucking job, okay? Rent in Indy is absolutely insane, even for their shitty two-bed apartment in a shitty neighbourhood, and they’re burning through the money they saved to get here. Eddie managed to get them a couple of gigs lined up, but only one is paying and it’s not paying much. They’ll be lucky to have enough to buy a round of beers. Not that he’s old enough to drink one. Officially.

Has Gareth been cagey about where he works? Fuck yes; he wanted to delay the inevitable shit he was going to get from Huey, Dewy and Louie. He couldn’t avoid them forever but if he could just get through the first couple of weeks…

His back is turned when the bell above the door chimes and when he spins around he’s wearing his best customer service smile.

“Hi, welcome to Taco— oh fuck me.”

“Is that on the menu?” says Eddie with a shit-eating grin. He approaches the counter and slaps his hands down on it, while Jeff, the traitor, stands beside him laughing.

Gareth leans forward across the counter and hisses, “You can’t be here, assholes. Fuck off.”

“Now, now,” says Eddie gleefully, “that’s no way to talk to a customer.”

“You’re not a customer!”

“I could be.”

“Are you gonna buy anything?”

“Depends.” Eddie gets his battered wallet out, the same one he’s had since high school when Gareth was a freshman. “What can I get for… sixty-seven cents?”

Gareth halfway turns and points at the menu above him. “Pintos and cheese. Or a Mountain Dew. Take your pick. And quickly.” 

Eddie’s lip curls in disgust, and Gareth’s about to tell them both to fuck off when the familiar tinkle of the bell chimes again and finally, a paying customer, but… no, of course not. Because now Matt’s here to give him more shit. And just why fucking not at this point?

He’s so going to get fired.

“I thought you said you worked in a restaurant?” Matt sneers. 

“This is a restaurant,” Gareth replies, his patience hanging by a fucking thread. 

“Ah, no, it’s a Taco Bell.”

“Which is part of a chain of restaurants.” He can see his manager hovering on the other side of the kitchen; if he loses his job on the first week then fuck ‘em, he’s going back to Hawkins because he’s already sick of ramen noodles. 

He’s not going back to Hawkins.

“Do you get an employee discount?”

“No, Jeffrey, I do not.”

“It’s definitely not a restaurant.”

“Jesus Christ, will you all just please leave? How did you even know where I worked?”

Eddie’s still checking his wallet for hidden coins. “The shitty brown uniform on the floor of your room was a dead giveaway.” He looks up and points at Gareth’s chest. “You know it says Taco Bell right there?”

“Is there a problem over here?”

Fuck. Gareth’s boss, Kenny, a guy who can’t have been out of high school for much longer than he has, wanders over eyeing the Three Amigos suspiciously. 

Jeff grabs his own wallet. “Actually, your employee, ” he leans forward squinting at Gareth’s chest dramatically, “Gareth here, was helping us choose from your menu.” Jeff leans forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “I look after these guys, take them out for the day sometimes. They’re a little…” he taps his temple, “you know?” 

“Hey!” shouts Eddie. It takes everything Gareth’s got not to laugh.

Kenny’s glare softens as he looks between Matt and Eddie. “Right, yeah, I see it now.”

“Mother fu— ow!”

“It’s really great what you’re doing, man,” says Kenny. “Order whatever you like, it’s on the house.” Before he heads back to the kitchen he pats Gareth on the shoulder. “Great job.”

Matt shoves Jeff in the back. “What the fuck was that?”

“Got you free food, didn’t it?”

Gareth bags up their orders. “Now go home. Actually, don’t go home - go and look for a job, all of you!”

Matt snatches his bag and turns with a hurried “See ya later” which Gareth doesn’t even get a chance to reply to. Eddie, mouth full of Mountain Dew, waves a hand before heading toward the door. 

Jeff lingers for a second. “Proud of you, man.”

Gareth can’t keep the smile off his face. It’s just a stupid job, but it’s his first. And if the band takes off, hopefully, please please god, the last. 

He’s about to serve his next customer when he hears Eddie singing at the top of his voice.

“She works hard for the money, duh de duh, so hard for it honey, duh de duh…”

“Asshole,” he mutters under his breath. “Oh, sorry, ma’am, not you. Uh… can I take your order?”

****

Did I look for an 80's Taco Bell menu to see what Eddie could get for sixty-seven cents? Yes, yes I did.

And let's gloss over the fact that Freak was Ben in my last fic... I'm trying out names, I'll retcon everything afterwards. 😂

[inthedarknessofnight]

Steve Harrington front row at a Corroded Coffin concert, holding up a sign asking Eddie to be his first kiss. Of course, Eddie’s never been particularly strong-willed when it comes to pretty guys, so he doesn’t hesitate to jump off the stage as soon as he clocks the sign. But the entire time they’re making out (and trust me, they are making out), he can’t help but think how good this guy is for a beginner. And because Eddie is immediately down bad, he calls him backstage after the show and tells him as much, but the guy just giggles and says “Actually, that wasn’t my first kiss. I just wanted to kiss you.”

[loveletterlore]

captured moments ♡ e.m. x reader

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: Corroded Coffin have just booked their first tour (kind-of), the reader wants to send eddie away with some gifts to remember what he's missing at home

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI smut, established relationship, use of pet names [princess, angel, baby], kissing, grinding, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, cream pie, dacryphilia, breeding kink (if you squint), taking photos during sex, straight up porn, reader is described to have breasts and vagina

word count: 2.9k

authors note: this is literally just porn with a plot, a fantasy that played out in my mind. i didn't think i was gonna be a smut writer but whoops, i guess this happened...

It was official as far as Eddie was concerned - he had made it. Corroded Coffin had booked their first official tour. Sure, it might have been a trail of local bars in Indianapolis, but to Eddie this was the start of the rest of his career. 

He had been bursting at the seams, waiting for you to get home so he could tell you, excitement bubbling over. You had been ambushed as soon as you walked through the door, scooped up into his familiar arms.

“Babybabybabybaby guess what?” he sputtered into your ear, spinning you around.

“Eds- my bag-” you replied, feeling the strap fly off your shoulder and land on the table, knocking over a glass with a loud smash.

Eddie stopped still, eyes going wide as he looked at you with that toothy grin. “Sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, “Still want me to guess?”

“Yes, guess,” he bounced on his toes, curls rebounding with each movement.

“Umm-”

“We got booked for two weeks around the state!” Eddie threw his arms open, ever the showman.

Your mouth gaped open, corners turning upwards in a smile. “Eds, oh my god!! I’m so proud of you!!”

You rushed into his arms, squeezing around his chest as he enveloped you, the two of you bouncing up and down now. After a minute, you pulled away and placed your hands on his cheeks, studying the beaming smile looking down at you.

“I’m so proud of you Eds, you deserve this,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips. “When is it?”

“Oh, um,” Eddie stopped, suddenly avoiding your gaze. “Well, it was kind of last minute so, um.”

“Eddie?”

“Next week,” he grimaced as he looked at you, expecting some form of annoyance in response.

“Next- next week,” you repeated, slight shock at the suddenness of the situation.

“I know it’s annoying, we had plans and everything, but I-”

“Eddie. It’s fine, I’ll be here when you get back,” you smiled, watching the tension drain from his face.

“You’re the best, did I ever mention that?” he reached out, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.

“Maybe once or twice,” you lulled, resting your head on his chest.

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wish I could take you with me, my number one fan.”

“Yeah, well, just don’t get distracted by those ‘lil groupies following you around. You send them to Gareth,” you smirked, reaching up to brush the curls out of his face. 

He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offence, “Princess, how could I ever get distracted knowing exactly what’s waiting for me at home?” His voice dropped an octave as a smile pulled at his lips, leaning down to trap you in a kiss once again.

An idea erupted in your mind, sending a flirty expression to your face, “Maybe I’ll have to send you away with something to remind you what you’re missing.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Band practice the next day went smoothly, everyone sounded amazing and Eddie had finally mastered the guitar solo he had been practising for weeks. Pulling up in front of the trailer, he paused for a moment, considering. If these shows went the way he hoped, this could be the start of forever. He would take you on tour, show you the world, play to massive crowds every night and live his life exactly the way he wanted.

Giggling to himself he shut off the engine, throwing the door open and jumping out of the driver's seat. Strolling up the steps, his smile grew as he knew you were home, just behind the door.

“Honey, I’m home!” Eddie sang as he opened the door, gliding through dramatically. Glancing around the room, there was a severe absence of you - no sign of activity, no music, nothing. Furrowing his brows, Eddie moved slowly through the trailer.

You weren’t in the bathroom, hiding under the table or lying across the sofa. Strange.

Reaching the bedroom, Eddie reached for the doorknob, pausing as a strange sensation of excitement tingled through his body.

Opening the door, his jaw dropped and heart skipped a beat.

You were laying on the bed, new, lacy underwear donned as you observed Eddie through long lashes. At your feet lay your polaroid camera, filled with a new set of picture paper.

“Oh, my, god,” Eddie groaned, not fully convinced that he wasn’t dreaming. He nearly dropped to his knees, worshipping the very sight before him.

“What do you say we make some memories to take with you?” your voice was sultry, the tone going straight to Eddie’s tightening pants.

Unable to make any words, Eddie nodded enthusiastically before pouncing on you, tongues and teeth clashing. His hands found your waist, squeezing and caressing the skin as he explored your mouth with his. A groan blossomed in his throat, the sound sending a flutter through your body.

You ran your hands along his lower abdomen, skimming the hem of his shirt before tugging. He pulled away long enough to yank it over his head, his eyes re-focusing on your chest. Diving, he began to nip at your breasts, biting then licking the marks he made. 

“Gonna mark you up, show everyone you’re mine,” he growled, grinding his hips into yours. You moaned at his words, rocking your hips to meet his movement. 

He continued to work on your body, focusing on making sure he didn’t miss a spot. Pulling away, he admired the sight before turning and picking up the camera. Leaning back on his knees, he aimed the camera, grinning and pressing the button. The picture printed, he shook the paper and growled at the sight, “Mine.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you pulled his body back to yours and reunited your lips, running a hand through his hair and tugging slightly. His lips parted in a gasp and you took the opportunity to take his bottom lip between your teeth, teasing and pulling. 

His knees were weak at the scent of you, sweet and tart and wanting. Sensing the fragility in his position, you flipped so that you were on top of him. Eddie whimpered as you broke the kiss, leaving a trail of pecks down his neck, chest and to the waistband of his jeans. You surprised yourself at how steady your hands were as you undid the button, Eddie lifting his hips so that you could shimmy them down his legs. 

Delicately, you kissed his arousal through his boxers, a small wet patch growing in both of your garments at the sensation. Eddie’s breath hitched as his hips twitched up to meet your touch, his hand gliding through your hair. 

Grinning at his reaction, you licked up his length over the fabric, watching as his eyes rolled backwards in pure pleasure. His hand tightened on your hair, grasping at any loose strands he could wrap his fingers in. 

Sliding your fingertips under the waistband, Eddie lifted his hips to encourage you to remove his boxers, craving the feeling of your mouth on him. You couldn’t even get them past his knees before you gave in, peppering sloppy kisses down his length, suckling and kissing his balls.

The sounds falling from his mouth were heavenly, your own arousal pooling in your underwear. Wrapping your hand around the base of his shaft, the curly patch of pubes tickling your fingertips, you licked the slit of his head, the sharp taste of his pre-cum dancing along your tongue. At the sound of his moans, you took his head in your mouth, your tongue caressing the delicate spots you knew he had.

The sight of you was enough to send him over the edge, but he held back somehow. With one hand still tangled in locks of your hair, you felt him shift slightly under your grasp. Slowly, torturously, you took his entire length in your mouth, the silky texture of you feeling like heaven to him. 

Testing your reflexes, you began to bob your head, feeling the tip of his cock prodding the back of your throat. He nearly came at the feeling of tightening as you gagged around him, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.  You felt his hand move to the base of your skull as he guided you deeper.

Saliva pooled in your throat, dripping from your mouth as you worked his length, tongue gliding along every bulging vein. Tears started to squeeze from your eyes, trailing down your face as you took him deeper and deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, look at me princess,” Eddie’s voice commanded. 

Raising your gaze, Eddie’s face was covered by the camera. A press of his fingers and the lens flashed, capturing your tear-stained face and your lips wrapped tightly around his cock.

“Shit, so fuckin’ pretty suckin’ me off,” Eddie groaned, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “Bet you’re soaked, huh?”

A moan trailed from your lips, the vibration on his body sending shockwaves through Eddie’s system. He lifted your mouth off of him, sitting up to recapture your lips with his. The kiss was chaos, you could feel how bad he needed you through the way his tongue swept the bottom of yours. 

Hands on your waist, Eddie twisted so that you lay beneath him. His legs were between yours, hips pressed together as he grinded his length into you.

“Eddie, please-” you breathed, face flushed from arousal. 

“Whaddya need, angel?” Eddie’s lips were pink and swollen, you could see the teeth marks from when you were sucking him off. 

“Need you,” you gasped as he pulled your underwear to the side, the cool air sending a shock through your body.

“Gotta be more specific princess,” Eddie teased, a smirk on his face. His fingers traced your folds as he continued, “Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck, need your fingers baby,” groaning as you writhed your hips against his digits, needing some kind of pressure.

“Gonna make a mess on my fingers?” Eddie leaned down and purred in your ear, his breath hot on your neck. 

Your breath caught as he found your clit, teasing with the pressure and motion. Your eyes fluttered shut while Eddie’s were wide open, watching every twitch and reaction to his movements, studying carefully as if he were committing it to memory. He kind of was, his own personal database of your horny moments would come in incredibly handy on tour.

Your face flushed as he circled your heat, slipping one finger in with no resistance. Your hips jumped at the feeling, your body feeling like it was floating above the bed. Forcing your eyes open, you placed a hand on Eddie’s chest, fingertips tracing the tattoo on his pec. Without a second thought, he added two more fingers, the stretch sending a gorgeous burn to your stomach.

Curling and stroking, Eddie could feel you tightening around him as you threw your head back with a groan. His eyes flicked back and forward between your rosy-cheeked face and your cunt, salivating at the sight of you gripping at his fingers.

A wet smacking sound made your heart jump as Eddie’s mouth attached itself to your clit, sucking and tugging at the sensitive spot. Instinctively, your hand shot down and you intertwined your fingers with the curls draping his face. He slurped and groaned, your arousal as sweet as nectar on his taste buds. 

You didn’t even have to tell him, he could feel your orgasm through the sounds and twitches and squeezes of your body, your hips rocking against his face. He looked up at you with those big, brown eyes as you came undone, pussy squeezing him like a vice. With a final kiss to your clit, he pulled away but left his fingers where they were.

Reaching for the camera, he lined up the shot of your plump, glistening pussy stuffed with his fingers, making sure his rings were on show. Whether this picture was more for him or for you he wasn’t sure, so he grinned as he took two, a matching set. Adding the pictures to the growing pile on the bed he glanced up at you, your face blissful as you smiled down at him.

A cheeky grin grew on his face as he curled his fingers, the surprise movement causing your body to jolt beneath him.

“You know what’s gonna be the hardest thing about being away?” he spoke almost nonchalantly, as though he had forgotten his fingers were still fucking you, his thumb circling on your clit. 

You whimpered in response, barely able to keep your eyes focused on his face.

“I mean, I can at least get myself off. The hardest bit is not being able to feel you around me as I cum, not being able to fuck my cum deep inside you.”

You watched his cock twitch at his own words, evidently working himself up.

“I want you to cum inside me, fuck me so deep that I fuckin’ feel it until you come back,” you groaned, biting your lip as his eyes darkened and rolled, the words going straight to his shaft.

Withdrawing his fingers, he quickly lined himself up with your pussy, his head teasing your entrance. Impatience flooding your body, you wrapped your legs around his hips, heels digging into his ass as you pulled him closer. 

With an eyebrow raised, he shifted into you, his breath escaping as a whistle at the silky, warm feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. Your mouth hung open at the feeling, your body instantly whisked into another stratosphere as he began to rock into you, nudging deeper and deeper with each movement. 

“I, ugh, I’m not gonna last long,” he leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. When he pulled away, a strand of saliva stretched between your mouths, the sight pure filth. 

“Me neither,” you let out a sound, somewhere between a giggle and a gasp. Grabbing the camera, you motioned for Eddie to lift your hips, allowing you to see where he was grinding into your body. The picture was orgasmic itself; your underwear pushed to the side in haste, your arousal coating his cock in a sleek texture as your pussy bulged with his size.

Feeling his high growing, Eddie’s movements became harsher, deeper, more erratic. His sharp movements hit the perfect spot inside of you, your stomach curling in on itself as your orgasm neared. He could see it on your face, the sight nearly enough for him to bust his balls right there and then. 

Leaning down, he traced your lips with his fingers. You opened your mouth, moving your tongue over his digits and tasting the leftovers of your previous orgasm. He dove down, licking and nipping at your lips, his body slamming into yours at a ruthless pace.

“You gonna take it all?” he groaned against your mouth, eyes hooded as he tried to stave off his orgasm for just a second more.

“Give it to me, please,” you whined, begging for it.

His teeth found your bottom lip as his cock twitched, biting down with force as he fucked his seed deeper inside of you. The pain sent you over the edge, your pussy clenching around him and milking him of every last drop. He whimpered into your mouth as his hips slowed, giving you everything he had to give. 

Hearts racing, he collapsed on your chest as you both tried to catch your breath. One of your hands rose to his hair as he breathed short, fast breaths against your breast. His hands rested on your hips, drawing slow circles with his thumbs, his rings cold against your skin.

“Holy shit,” he rasped, his voice vibrating through his chest to yours. “That was awesome.”

You giggled slightly, cringing at the way it pushed his softening cock out of you. With a moan, you tried to pull him back into you but he pulled away, crouching to be face-to-face with your pussy. 

“Quick, pass me the camera,” he rambled, holding out his hand as you passed it to him. Lining up the shot, he snapped his favourite picture of the night; his cum leaking out of you as he scooped it up, forcing it back in with two fingers. 

“Can we do this for every tour, forever?”

extra:

It was safe to say that the pictures got their fair amount of use while Eddie was away. He had one stuffed in his wallet, one hidden in his guitar case, one in the glovebox of the van. His favorite location, however, was the one he had taped to the back of his guitar, taking it on stage with him every night. 

Each night, he saw the picture of you, mouth salivating around his cock, and a thrill went through him, amping him up for the show. The other band members had started wondering why he would take his guitar into the bathroom immediately following a show, but didn’t want to risk asking.

a/n: tee-hee

masterlist for more of my work <3

ko-fi if you’d like a commission or to support the page <3

[gracieheartspedro]

Miss Possessive

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem! reader x rockstar!gareth emerson

part 1 (if you want context)

word count: 5.4k words

description: you cannot help but be possessive over your boyfriends... wait no, boyfriend. just your boyfriend. not his best friend.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, rockstar au, all participates are 18+, mentions of alcohol and substances, reader is established as eddie's girlfriend, gareth has crush on reader, reader is jealous of every girl and pretty damn mean, voyeurism, drunk sex, gareth is really there just to watch, public sex, dry humping, tons of dirty talk, spanking, fingering, rough unprotected sex, name calling, face grabbing, multiple orgasms, light choking, possessive eddie, creampie, angst at the end

authors note: i listened to miss possessive by tate mcrae too many times. sorry.

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

“Another tequila soda, sweetheart?”

Your eyes trail up Eddie’s form, your slightly tipsy mind taking in every inch of his outfit. It is not clubbing attire in the slightest, but rockstars did not need to fit into the crowd of half-naked dancing drunks. A small smile creeps across his knowing face as he leans over the table, his face inches from yours. 

Eddie could read you in every situation, and he knows what’s playing in your brain at this very moment. 

You want him so bad. 

The insatiable desire you have felt with him since joining him and Corroded Coffin on tour has taken over your entire being. You can not keep your hands off him. When he’s near, you have to have your hands somewhere on him. Wrapped around his waist, gripping onto his hands and arms as you walked into venues, and even when he was sitting and talking to people, you would lazily wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders from behind. 

You wanted his attention and he did a very good job of indulging. 

And then there was Gareth. 

Him joining the mix was unexpected and you anticipated it to be awkward the next day, but he treated you the same way he always did. Sweet, polite, and always looking out for you in some way. 

There had been times that you could count on one hand when he would eye you a certain way when you wore a tight skirt. Or a slight touch he would press on your lower back when trying to shimmy by you on the tour bus. But nothing ever crossed that strict line in the sand that Eddie drew out for him. 

Eddie did not say anything else about it after that night, simply putting it behind him like it never even happened. You sometimes believe you mocked it up, and it was all just a dream. 

A very hot dream.

“See somethin’ you like?” He asks teasingly as you rub your glossed lips together, distracted by your own thoughts. 

You brush your nose across his, humming your response. “Mhm…”

He presses a kiss to your lips, his tongue swiping across your upper lip to taste your cherry-flavored gloss. You push onto his collarbones, pulling away. He furrows his brows under his swept bangs. “What?”

“Best behavior tonight, remember? We were advised by your manager to not draw too much attention…”

The mid-week meeting consisted of Corroded Coffin’s management targeting public displays of affection that were a bit too graphic to be on the front page of tabloids. So what if Eddie wanted to squish your ass when you two walked around LA, shopping for lingerie? He is not supposed to have a pristine record, he’s a fucking guitarist in a heavy metal band.

As aggravated as you were about it all, you did not want to step on toes. You told them you two would scale it back, much to Eddie’s chagrin. He wanted to tell them to piss off, but ruffling feathers when they were about to drop their sophomore album was not a great idea. 

Eddie nods, pressing a quick kiss to your lips again. “Lemme get us a refill.”

The moment he leaves, Gareth returns to the booth, a pretty blonde thing in tow. You had been watching him make his way through the dance floor all night with Grant. He stood out like a sore thumb, just like Eddie. His raggedy t-shirt and black jeans did not scream lady killer, but you spotted him touching on plenty of girls as he danced with them to sped-up pop songs. 

His girl’s dress was much tighter than yours, her makeup exaggerated, but her hair was perfectly placed on her head, almost like it was a wig. It never moved, even when Gareth slung his arm over her shoulders. 

You sucked up the last bit of your drink, your gaze wandering to the way Gareth rubs small circles into her bare shoulder. A pang of something rushes over your body, and you suddenly feel repulsed by the view of them. 

She must feel your eyes burning into her because she finally flicks her bright blue eyes at you. 

“You are Eddie’s girl, aren’t you?”

Her voice immediately pisses you off. You straighten your spine, leaning over the booth. The dress you decided to wear tonight was a bit too short so the moment you extend your body, you feel the back side of it rise to your mid-buttcheek. 

“The one and only.”

Gareth chuckles at your dryness, turning his gaze towards the bar where Eddie is grabbing your refill and another whiskey straight for himself. You bite the inside of your cheek as the girl’s face lights up at your response. 

“He’s a pretty boy, ain’t he?” She almost questions, even though she knows the answer. From what you can read about this girl from the two shared sentences, she seems to think she’s untouchable. She’s seated next to the drummer of the most popular metal band in the world, she must be the most divine being in the seedy club the boys were insistent on coming to. From her dress, you can tell she spends a pretty penny on her nightclub looks. She thinks she’s hot shit, just by the way she’s leaning back over the table to talk to you. 

She is only asking the question because she wants to test you. See if she can get under your skin. 

You cock your head to the side, condescendingly. “Who are you again?”

“Mad-”

“Right, whatever your name is, I suggest you don’t talk to me like we are friends.”

Gareth is taken aback immediately, and suddenly, you both start speaking your own language with glances. You tap your nails, waiting for Gareth’s friend to respond to you, but she’s rendered speechless. You watch as her hand crosses her own lap and goes to Gareth’s, almost like she’s waiting for him to reprimand you. 

He doesn’t. His eyes are trained on the way your face twinges. He knows you can handle yourself.

Her touches are so aggressive, it sends your head spinning. You had been watching Gareth dance on other girls all night, but when it is the girl initiating the behavior, the jealousy creeps across your skin. You cannot pull your gaze away from where her hand rests on him. 

“I don’t wanna step on any toes-” Her voice is unsteady, trying to remain calm under your deadly glare. You tap your long nails on the marble table top before you bring your hand up in a stop gesture. 

“Then don’t. Keep your eyes off of him.”

Gareth cannot help the smirk that spreads across his face the moment you hush her. He was not expecting you to be so brutal to the girl, but it is very reminiscent of when you took control of his sexual encounter with that groupie on the tour bus. 

You had a dominant streak. Which was so hot.

Eddie places your glass directly in front of you, sliding next to you in the booth. Perfect timing.

The girl’s pupils dilate the moment she looks at him, causing that pit in your stomach to grow and spread through your body. 

If looks could kill, you would be wanted for the murder of some random Valley Girl. 

Eddie looks at Gareth questioningly, but he just shrugs in response. 

You reel in your resting face, finally smiling and straightening your head towards the girl. “Where did I say to keep those eyes, hun?”

Her face drops the moment you yell over the music, “I’m sorry?”

“Where did I tell you to keep your eyes?” You hassle her with the smile painted on your face, which only adds to the fear spreading across her face. The sudden uncertainty and lack of confidence spilling out of her fills your chest with unbridled joy. “My boyfriend. Are you looking at him?”

She tries to scrape together a sentence, but her bright pink pout spills out jumbled words. “I-I have e-eyes.”

“I-I,” You mock, “Yeah, you should use them and look somewhere else. Maybe the floor, or the ceiling, or anywhere but the people at this booth.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his hand gripping your thigh under the table. At the same time, his elbow nudges your side, trying to grab your attention. But you are lasered in on her, and in a beat, on Gareth. 

He looks mystified by your words, his bottom lip slightly parted from his upper. 

It’s the same expression he gave you when he told you to keep your eyes open when was making that groupie cum on his cock weeks ago. 

You had to admit, the alcohol was making you bold, but the moment he made eyes at you, something switched inside you. You realize you needed his attention, too. He was yours for the taking.

The girl glances over at Gareth the moment he licks his lips at you. 

You finally look away while he deals with the girl’s inquiries, your eyes finally looking up at your boyfriend. His jaw is slack, his hand still tightened on your bare thigh. The brown in his eyes looks so dark, even when the flashing lights swoop over his face. You could tell he was not happy with the exchange with Gareth just moments before. 

You grab your drink, squeezing the lime into the clear cocktail, trying to distract yourself from looking at Gareth across the booth. Eddie’s eyes are locked on the side of your face; you can sense him. 

His breath fans your neck and earlobe out of nowhere. “Are you insane?”

The lime juice drops down your fingers as you clench it between your pointer and thumb. Your face twitches at his question, unsure if a response would get you in more trouble. 

You drop the lime in the drink and use the straw to swirl it around. You lick your fingers clean, letting the sourness of the lime settle on your taste buds.

You were usually pretty possessive of Eddie, especially with random girls backstage at shows. You were never fond of watching them touch him, flirt with him, and in some cases, just look at him in certain ways. But it was a part of the job, so you would suck it up and hours later make him fuck you while he repeated that he was all yours and no one else’s. 

The girl started talking about Eddie first, which already did not sit right with you. When the excitement spread across her face when he sat back down, you physically could not help yourself.

But Gareth? 

Why were you making eyes at him? Why were you disgusted watching him cuddled up with this girl? Was it just because it was her, or was it something else entirely?

You bring the straw to your lips and take a sip before finally replying to Eddie. 

“I don’t like the way she talks about you.” You peer at her now practically hidden face as you say it. She is positioning her face in Gareth’s curls, whispering something in his ear. His arm is no longer behind her shoulders as his hands are now folded over the table in contemplation. Eddie’s palm rubs up your thigh, dangerously high. 

Your face twitches when his fingers grope your inner thigh, the coldness of his rings sending goosebumps across your skin. You take another sip of your drink, slurping it a bit, which catches Gareth’s attention. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Gareth’s voice is crackling a bit; not sure if he can get away with calling you by a nickname. Eddie’s motions completely halt when he hears his bandmate’s question. 

It must have been the girl’s tipping point because her eyes roll to the back of her head. She grips the edge of the table and slides away from Gareth, her high heels clacking against the concrete floors of the club as she practically runs from the table. 

“What the fuck is going on? What did I just walk into?” Eddie interrogates, his eyes flickering between you and Gareth. You start to bounce your leg and take your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Eddie knows when you are lying, so that was out of the question. 

“Your girl likes to drive other girls away from me, it seems,” Gareth states, flicking his curls a bit out of his face.

He leans over the table, his long silver chain dragging across the table. Your mind instantly starts to imagine it dangling above you-

Eddie slaps your thigh, demanding your attention. “Why?”

You do not have an actual reasonable explanation for him, so you put your drink down on the table and shrug. 

“Just looking out for my boys.”

You shift yourself in the booth to face Eddie. His hand slips off your thigh and your dress rides up completely over your ass, onto your hips. You can hear Gareth scoff across the table, his presence pulling back to lean against the cushion of the booth. Eddie’s eyes widen at your response and you can tell you did not answer correctly. You were testing boundaries with Eddie, but your drunk self did not quite grasp that and the possible consequences. You were honest, at least. 

“Your boys?”

The suddenness of Eddie’s next movements makes you yelp. He manhandles you onto his lap, wedging you between his chest and the large sprawling table. You are still facing Gareth, but your arms are locked behind your back. Eddie’s dark chuckle behind you sends chills up your spine. 

“You need to remember who you belong to, princess. And it’s not him.”

You gulp, feeling the wetness pooling between your thighs already. You were already expecting to be in his lap like this tonight, but not in the middle of the club, right in front of Gareth. 

His warm hands release your arms, now creeping to your front. They trace up your body, creeping up your sides all the way to your chest. When they fondle your tits, your head falls back onto his shoulder and your hips shift in place. 

“Say it,” He whispers into your neck, his hair tickling your collarbones, “Tell Gare that you’re mine and only mine.”

You just moan, trying to gain any sort of friction on his lap. 

Gareth is hypnotized by you two. It should be something he looks away from, but watching you two mess around is better than any porn he’s ever watched. 

You tilt your head forward in defiance, not indulging Eddie in the words he wants you to say out loud. You tighten your lips together, pursing them a bit as you focus on Gareth. The shifting lights beam through the curtains and spread across his face, highlighting the sly tipping of his head. 

Eddie’s right hand continues to grapple at your boob as the other one travels between your legs. Your bottom half is covered by the table so Gareth cannot see where his hand lands, but he has a very good idea where his fingers are. 

Eddie finally looks towards Gareth’s ravenous eyes, not catching the man’s eyes because they are locked on yours. 

He could not stand it anymore. 

Never happening again. He told Gareth that. And now he is looking at you like you are his next meal. And you? You have been nothing but stubborn lately. Usually, you are a puddle in his hands, but you have been extra greedy lately. Deep down, he knew he spoiled you a bit too much with the threesome and now was reaping the consequences. It irked him but he knew he had to put you both in your respective places. 

He would show you both who’s in control here.

Eddie’s groping is no longer hidden the moment he scoots you around the crescent-shaped booth. Gareth’s body is cemented to the same spot as Eddie’s hands slide between your thighs, spreading your knees apart. Your panties are soaked through, and you can tell by the look on Gareth’s face that it’s taking everything within him not to reach out and touch you. 

You place one foot up on the booth, your toes almost touching Gareth’s thigh, while your other leg is held in place between Eddie’s spread lap. 

“Soaked through your panties, hm?” Eddie’s fingers trace the hem of your underwear before sliding through the fabric with his pointer and middle finger. Him gathering the slick through your panties is enough stimulation to have you throwing your head back in pleasure. 

When his digits hook around the material, revealing your glistening cunt to Gareth, you cannot help but moan at his reaction. He takes the panties, tucking them in his pocket as your hips rock back and forth. 

You swear you see drool dribble down his bottom lip the moment Eddie’s fingers plunge into your sopping cunt. You can hear how wet you are over the music, your hips jerking forward to get Eddie to move inside you. 

He’s taking his time, dragging his digits in and out of you teasingly. You increase your movements forward, which leads Eddie to pulling his fingers out of you completely and slapping your inner thigh hard.

“Stop being greedy, princess,” He warns, his voice husky and rough, “When has that ever gotten you anywhere?”

He clamps his arm down over your leg, barring you from moving that leg as he brings his attention back to your pussy. He drags his fingers in and out of you, spreading around your juices like he’s finger painting through your slit. 

Gareth refuses to look away, grabbing his drink from the table and slamming it down. The burn he feels is suddenly replaced with pure ice the moment Eddie starts slapping your cunt, looking down your body as he does. 

“You know, you,” Eddie says, increasing in the pace of his swats at your cunt, “You never did what I asked you to do, princess.”

You bite your lip, knowing exactly what he wants from you. 

“Make me cum, please-” He presses his nose against the side of your head, his mouth right above your ear. “Tell drummer boy you’re fucking mine. I won’t ask you again.”

You let out a long sigh. You are all Eddie’s, there’s no doubt about that. But you craved what he would give you if you were defiant. Lately, his adamance and pure dominance over you has been the adding fuel to the hottest sex you two have ever had. You loved being a brat and having him set you straight. 

But this act was all being done in front of his friend. You knew you had some power imbalances with this situation and it could get hairy very quickly. 

So you submit. 

You turn to Gareth, eyes boring into his dark blue eyes. “I’m Eddie’s. Only his.”

Eddie’s groan kickstarts the quickest orgasm you have ever had from his fingers. He sinks into you, hooking his pointer and middle finger inside your dripping hole. His fingers instantly begin the ‘come hither’ motion as his thumb swipes across your swollen clit. You are holding onto whatever can keep you from sliding out of the booth seat, and somehow, Gareth’s body has moved close enough for you to hold onto his knee. 

The fire within you erupts the moment Eddie moves his fingers in the perfect tandem, touching you right there. 

Your chest heaves, your mind goes blank, and your breath leaves your body. Your nails dig into Gareth’s kneecap as your body practically goes limp and falls forward. Eddie’s arm wraps around your midsection, chuckling darkly to himself.

He does not let you recover from your insane high before he’s repositioning you up on his lap again. Your legs get locked between his thighs, closing them together tightly. In the time your eyes were screwed shut in pleasure just moments before, Eddie had already pulled his hard cock out of his skinny jeans. 

“He’s gonna watch. And only watch. He’s not touching my girl,” Eddie says with gritted teeth.

The moment your ass brushes across it, your hazy mind makes the connection that you are about to fuck him in a public club while his bandmate watches. 

The riskiness of it gets your adrenaline pumping. If anyone were to peek into the VIP area, they would see you placed on Eddie’s lap, dress over your hips as both your faces are twisted in pleasure. 

What a headline that would make! 

He readies his cock by spitting in his hand and stroking it for a moment. You shake your ass over his lap, your eyes locked on Gareth’s completely spent appearance. His hands are practically twitching, itching to touch you somehow. 

But you were not the only possessive one. 

Gareth wanted you bad and he has since the moment he sunk into you. But you were obviously off-limits and Eddie made that very clear. Hell, he was making it so abundantly clear now, he would fuck you in front of him just to prove so. 

So instead, Gareth was always subtle with his passes towards you. The moment you were around, he usually cleared the area of women because you were the only one he found himself fixated on. He knew he could not give those women the same attention when you were in his presence. 

He so badly wanted tonight to be different. Distract himself with tons of alcohol, dancing, and women. But there you were, sitting all lonesome waiting for your knight and shining armor to return. He would be lying if he did not notice the way you looked at him the moment he sat down with, Maria? Maddie?

It was the alcohol, you told yourself. It was Eddie touching you. It was the pulse of the club and bass drops in the music. 

It was not your feral desire to fuck Gareth again.

Eddie being adamant about Gareth only being allowed to watch was maddening. You wanted more hands. More kisses. More stimulation. And Gareth was a good provider of all those things. 

Eddie grasps at your waist, slowly easing you down onto his cock. You cannot help but grip the edge of the table, tilting your body towards Gareth’s frame. 

You hover over Eddie enough that he can shift his hips upward and shallowly fuck into your soaked cunt. The stretch is always delicious, the feeling even better than you remember. Even if you two fucked a couple hours before, it still felt like the first time. His cock just fits so snugly inside you, you sometimes pray he could stay there all the time. 

While Eddie focuses on thrusting up into you, you slap the table in front of Gareth, shaking the drinks in front of him.

“Talk to me,” You plea, your fingers spreading out towards him. If he can not touch you, he can at least talk you through it.

The sinful smile that spreads across his face almost makes you clench around Eddie’s length. 

“Such a dirty girl,” He practically shouts. It’s almost as if the music is getting louder to prevent people from hearing the pornographic scene happening behind some sheer curtains. “You want me to talk to you while Eddie fucks that pussy, hm?”

His condescending tone is enough to make your head spin. He slides a bit closer to you two, his eyes flickering down to how Eddie is snapping his hips up into your squelching cunt. 

The plea you make towards him turns his attention back to your twisted expression. “Please, please just talk.”

Eddie’s pace quickens, his grip on you becoming tighter. He grumbles something like while he swats your bare ass, “Such a slut.”

Gareth chuckles dryly, “Isn’t she, Eds? Just a dirty little slut that loves her hole stuffed, hm? Doesn’t matter when or where.”

You cannot help the sounds that escape you. The moans grow louder and louder, especially when Eddie stops to lift your leg back up onto the booth. The position allows him to slip his hand right between your folds, toying with your swollen clit. 

It’s not lost on Gareth how overstimulated you are, he can see directly into your soul with those steely blue eyes.

“Just fucked out on Eddie’s cock, huh, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly in tandem with Eddie’s fingers swiping across your folds as his pace increases, “Yes, oh my god, yes.”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you? I can hear you moaning almost every night on the bus, begging to cum. Poor baby has to beg.” 

The way he’s mocking you makes the coil inside your stomach pulsate for a moment. You cannot help yourself, springing into an action you may regret later. You grab onto Gareth’s arm, pulling it forward and up to your throat. 

Eddie wants to stop it, but he can feel your pussy clenching around him and he wants to make you cum over and over, all in front of his stupid fucking friend. The point he needs to prove, for some reason, is taking priority over his rules of Gareth not touching you. 

While Gareth laughs at your desperation, his fingers tighten around your windpipe. 

“I just know that cunt of yours is milking Eddie’s cock, just like it did mine,” Gareth whispers as your face tilts away from him. He tugs on your throat, snapping your eyes back onto his. You are right on the edge, the teetering now turning into falling. “Make a mess on his lap, sweetheart. Look at me as you cum. Go on.”

The pressure Eddie puts on your clit throws you into overdrive. You instinctively want to close your legs, but Eddie has a strong hold on your left thigh, opening you up. The hold Gareth has on your throat only intensifies, his rings indented on the edges of your neck. As much as you want to keep your eyes on Gareth, the pleasure makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your mouth hangs wide as shaky moans pour out of you like a gushing fountain. Eddie does not stop his assault on your cunt as your white hot climax settles in your stomach. 

When your vision returns, Gareth has the most twisted look on his face. His hand slowly creeps up your throat, resting on your chin. You are finally able to inhale a big breath as Eddie holds you still on his lap while he catches his breath for a moment. 

Eddie lifts you off his lap, tearing you away from Gareth’s grasp. You have never been so forcibly pushed onto a tabletop, but somehow Eddie flops you onto your back, making almost every drink spill onto the floor or marble. It wobbles a bit as you stare up at Eddie, propping yourself onto your elbows. 

“Dude, what the f-”

Gareth cannot even finish his sentence before Eddie shoots daggers at him. “Shut the fuck up.”

He wants Gareth to watch him fuck you intimately. Eye contact. Hands everywhere. Him being the only one talking you through it. He wants Gareth to see you cum by his hand and only his hand. He wants Gareth to realize that he in no way has any ownership of you. You were his. And only his.

Just because Gareth got a taste of you before, does not give him any upper hand now.

Eddie’s grip has you shimmying your hips to the edge of the table as his left-hand pumps his cum covered shaft. He stands up, pushing the table back a couple of inches, making sure he had enough room to stand and fuck you. 

You grab at his shirt, trying to gain his focus but he slips his cock back inside you without even looking at you and suddenly your stomach is twisting. You're still sensitive from the previous orgasm, but Eddie does not care. He sets a sudden and brutal pace, grabbing the hem of his shirt from you so it does not cover up the view of you all sprawled out in front of him. He smiles watching himself disappear inside you, it seems so picturesque. 

His eyes finally seek out yours and a smirk creeps across your lips. “God, you feel so good.”

The hand that is not hooked on your hips, trails to your lower pelvis. He applies some subtle pressure to that spot as he grinds into you, “Yeah? You feel me there, baby?”

You almost forgot Gareth is still seated right beside you until you hear him croak out, “Jesus.”

You do not dare break eye contact with Eddie as he brings the bottom of his shirt up to his teeth, bearing down on the fabric. You drop down onto your shoulders, your arms reaching the edge of the table. 

“Are you gonna answer me, sweetheart? Or do you only answer to Gareth?”

The bite in Eddie’s tone makes you shudder. “Yes, baby. I feel you right there.”

You hold his palm down on your stomach, which only encourages him to go faster and feel his cockhead push against you from the inside. 

“I’m gonna fill that pussy up,” Eddie rambles, throwing his head back to regain some sort of composure as he dirty talks to you, “You like that, huh? You like walking around with my cum dripping down your leg?”

Gareth’s breathing hitches and you can hear it the moment Eddie’s groans turn into grunts, chasing his own high. Your eyes trail over to Gareth as you feel Eddie’s cock twitch inside you after one particularly sharp thrust. You just lie there, completely fucked out of your mind. The moment Eddie’s hips slow down, you peer back over at him. 

The way his shirt is tucked up, revealing his toned pale tummy. The sweat is dripping down his forehead from the curls that are usually brushed across his forehead. His jaw is slightly unhinged as he empties himself inside you. The lighting of the venue only adds to the sensuality of it all. You would love to see him like this every day for the rest of your life. 

But the moment he finishes, he abruptly pulls out of you, cum instantly dribbling on the table. 

You are taken aback. Your body still feels like jello as you manage to push yourself up onto the balls of your hands. Eddie wastes no time at all, tucking is dick back into his jeans and stepping away from in between your legs. You tilt your head towards him, trying to catch his eyes, but he will not even look in your direction.

“What’s wrong-”

“Can’t even fuckin’ look at me when I finish inside you. Fuckin’ insane.”

You shake your head, your brain almost malfunctioning from being completely dazed by your multiple orgasms, on top of the alcohol you slammed down not too long ago. You do not understand what he is talking about besides the brief glance you shot over at Gareth when he made a noise. 

Before you can even respond to him, Gareth is standing up and coming to your defense. 

“Bro, it wasn’t like that-” “Shut the fuck up,” He puts his hand up at Gareth, completely disregarding the beginning of his sentence, “I need to go have a cigarette. Please don’t follow me.”

You sit up completely, your bare ass touching the table top as you slide down onto your feet. 

“Baby, you know it wasn’t like that.”

He is already half out of the booth as his body fully turns towards you, “Bullshit.”

And he walks away, pushing the curtain completely away from disguising the booth from the outside crowd. You feel sick to your stomach, a wave of guilt and nauseating self-pity washing over you. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. 

“This cannot happen again,” Gareth remarks, making his way to the edge of the booth, “Better yet… I don’t think I should talk to you anymore.”

Your heart sinks to your ass, sobering up completely due to the situation that’s unfolding all around you. 

“Gareth, don’t be ridiculous.”

He stops you, standing up and shaking his head dramatically, “No, what’s ridiculous is that we let this happen again. I’m not… I’m not disrespecting Eddie again. So whatever… things you felt about me. Or us. It’s not real and it’s not happening again.”

“Gare-”

“Have a good rest of your night, sweetheart."

[sp0o0kylights]

Has anyone explored the idea of sort of S1/S2 AU wherein Eddie, or Corroded Coffin as a whole, are out smoking in the woods and encounter the combined military unit that is Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and Jonathan Byers, standing around a corpse?

(“We didn’t get a close enough look, we can’t say for sure that it was a corpse.” Grant is saying, voice high and frantic in his panic. 

“Two legs, two arms,  torso, greyish skin tone?” Jeff counters in a mutter, because unlike his friends he goes rabbit-quiet when terrified. “What else could it be?”

“Maybe they got into filmmaking.” Gareth says pleadingly, over Grant’s half-hysterical muttering about aliens. “Harrington’s rich enough to have a camcorder.” 

He then cringes under the three, disbelieving stares he gets for his stupidity. 

"You really think King Steve and his priss of a girlfriend joined forces with Jonathan Byers to make a horror movie?" Eddie scoffs, his voice eerily even despite the tremor in his fingers as he grips his third (fourth?) cigarette "In the middle of the woods? After Byers rearranged Harrington’s face?"

“It doesn’t have to be a horror movie!” Gareth counters, defensive. “It could be a murder mystery!” 

“Guys.” Jeff says abruptly, in a much louder voice than the one he had been talking in. “You know how they found Benny shot in his diner? You don’t think…”

He trails off, and his friends can only share horrified looks back.) 

Problem 1: No one is ever going to believe them. 

Even if it was an actual serial killer looking, well, serial killer out there in the woods and not three teenagers, Eddie knows damn well the police would think they’re being prank called. 

And sure, maybe that’s because they have been pranked called, but Eddie can’t see anyone taking him seriously even if he hadn't fallen prey to that little crime. Not unless they thought he did it, and he is not going down for a crime King fucking Steve committed! 

Problem 2: The body is gone the next day. 

Eddie knows, because he went back, dragging Jeff and a tire iron along with him.

Jeff halfway manages to convince him they simply smoked too much weed and shared some sort of hallucination, until they find the clearing. The same one with splotches of dark, sticky liquid splashed all across it. There's long gouge marks in the trees, like something with claws had gored them and yeah, nope, no sorry Jeff, they definitely didn't hallucinate it!

Problem 3: The killers are planning something. 

Now that they know, it’s easy to see the already weird relationship between Byers, Harrington and Wheeler in a new and horrifying light.

They’re not in some sort of “freaky threesome situation” like Carol Perkins keeps crowing, but they’re definitely secretive.

Jumpy.

Nervous--and blatantly up to something, given all the hushed whispers and the way they keep piling themselves into empty classrooms and sneaking out through the side doors. 

Which leads directly into Problems 4 and 5, two problems that Grant loudly floats during band practice.

“Guys it’s been a week and the news hasn’t said anything. So…who exactly did they kill--and who are they after next?” 

(“You really think they’re going to kill again?” Jeff asks, but it’s pleading, the tone of someone who watched Harrington pace around his car that morning with a fucking walkie talkie and hiss into it like a man possessed, and knows a storm is coming.

“I think if someone doesn’t do something,” Eddie says slowly, feeling the truth of the words fall like rocks down a cliff as he speaks them, “we're going to find Hawkins staring in one of those true crime documentaries. The really fucked up ones."

“You’re saying 'someone' like you mean us. You don’t mean us, right?” Grant says, with large, pleading us. 

“I mean…” Eddie trails off, before visibly steeling himself. “We don’t have to stop them in the act. We just have to find indisputable proof that they did it.” 

“Oh, God.” With a moan, Gareth dramatically slides off the stool of his drumset, sinking to hide behind the round form of his base drum. “We’re gonna die.” 

“We’re not gonna die.” Eddie responds, and now there’s a fire in his eyes, a feverish look that his bandmates know all too well. “No one is going to die. Not on our watch.”

“We’re fucked.” Grant morosely tells Jeff. 

“Yeah.” He says in response, because they all know they’re going to following their DM and friend to the pits of doom and despair.  “We are.”) 

There’s a Problem 6 of course, and that problem is that Steve, Nancy and Jonathan are not in fact, murderers, but unfortunately for Hellfire, that problem comes into play much, much later into their investigation.

[spacebabesuki]

He's so insanely hot here, I can't even—like, the shoulders, the jacket, the HEIGHT, the way he moves?? If I were Chrissy, I’d have jumped on his back, glued myself to his shoulder, and not even Satan himself could pry me off

[cherry-smokes]

I Want You So Bad

AKA the time you got tired of waiting. Based off of I Want You So Bad by Heart. Pairing: Steve Harrington x bassist!reader Word count: 1.5K Warnings: Sugar is uncharacteristically soft for a man.

Two dates. You've been on two dates with Steve and he's been perfect.

On your first one he took out to dinner. A fancy restaurant that you would never take yourself to. Steve insisted you order whatever you want, when you blushed at the price he just brushed you off.

"Steve this is...very expensive."

"You deserve expensive."

You learned a lot about Steve across the fancy table cloth. He's witty, he doesn't flinch when you bite back at a quip. Which you found undeniably attractive. Excluding Buckley, one of his closest friends is a high-schooler, Dustin, who you've heard about through Eddie. He calls him a dork, and a nuisance. The way he smiles when talking about how 'annoying' it was when Dustin and his friends would make him sneak them into the theater lets you know he loves the kid. When you ask about his parents he dodges the question. You don't press, but you can only assume he isn't close with them. You find yourself sad when he asks about you, just because you want to know so much more about him. You want to know what his favorite songs are, what side of the bed he sleeps on, how he takes his coffee, what he was scared of as a child. You want to know exactly how many moles he has and what his hair would feel like if you were to run your hands through it.

He said all the right things. Asked the prefect questions and clung to every word you said. Opened every door for you, he even let you pick what tape you wanted to listen to in the car! Then, he walked you to your door, and kissed you on the cheek. Which was sweet! At the time you assumed it meant he wasn't just looking for a hookup.

Then the second date came around. You walked around town, and went to the record store. You shared headphones in the listening booth. He listened to your favorite albums, never said an ill word about them even though you could tell he wasn't particularly enjoying Metallica. He even bought a Zeppelin tape to play in the car for you. Afterwards, he drove you home, walked you to your door with an arm around your waist, and he kissed you. On your cheek. Again.

You'd be lying if you said you weren't starting to feel frustrated. After he left, you freaked out for about an hour. It made you feel silly, and ridiculous because it’s just not something you do! You’ve never let yourself lose sleep over a guy. Then again you’ve never liked someone the way you like Steve.

He's sending every signal that he's into you, but why won't he just kiss you? Steve doesn't have the reputation of a guy who takes things slow. It’s hypocritical of you. You know better than to base his actions off of who he used to be. Yet, there’s this ridiculous part of you that likes him so much you can’t help but overthink every single move he makes, or doesn’t make. Was he not as into you as you thought? Maybe he wasn't looking for a relationship? Maybe he's just a really...attentive friend?

You plagued yourself with doubts until he called you up and asked you if you wanted to go see a movie. You said yes, obviously. How else are you supposed to figure out if he’s trying to be more than friendly with you?

So now you're standing in front of your mirror wondering if you should wear jeans or a skirt. You hate that the question of what he would like most even crosses your mind.

When he knocks at your door you almost trip over your feet as you rush to open it and you have to take a moment to get your shit together.

Your hands shake as you grab the handle and open the door.

The cold autumn air hits your face as you swing it open. It works in your favor as it cools your flushed face when you see Steve. His hair looks as perfect as always. His sweater wraps around his arms in a way that makes you feel warm inside. You feel jealous of it as you wish you could wrap yourself around them like it does. Worst of all he smiles at you, and seems so genuinely happy to see you. Friends don’t do that right?

“Hey.”

You gasp for air. “Hi!”

This is ridiculous. You sound more excited than you’d like to. Any air of mystery you wanted to keep is gone.

“Uh- let me just grab my shoes I’ll be out in a second.”

“Take your time, I’m in no rush.”

You quickly lace up your boots. The door stays open and you try not to fumble over your laces as you feel Steve’s gaze on you. When you stumble onto your feet and walk out towards him, he lays his hand on the small of your back as you lock your door.

You try to ignore the shiver that crawls up your spine but it’s impossible when you can feel his warmth pressed against you and the smell of his shampoo reaching your nose. Even the hairspray isn’t enough to turn you off, everything about him is intoxicating. Dizzying. He makes you feel so foggy it’s embarrassing.

“This is a really nice sweater.”

His hand dips to the hem, he fiddles with it as he speaks. “It’s soft.”

You turn your face him, he doesn’t move his hand.

“Thanks.”

His lips quirk up as he tugs at your sweater to guide you to the car.

You’re so fucked.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

He insisted he didn't mind sharing a straw, and put his arm around your shoulder. He leaned in and whispered soft jokes and comments about the movie in your ear and you felt his arm tense up when you giggled at his words. An attentive friend doesn't do that.

A friend doesn't tell you he doesn't want you to go home yet. He doesn't play Heart in the car while he drives you both to lovers lake. He sure as hell doesn't look at you like that when you're talking.

“What?”

He shrugs. “Nothing.”

You give him a disbelieving look. “You’re looking at me weird.”

“I’m just looking at you. Nothing weird about it.”

You lean against the headrest facing him. You smile at him like you did when you first met him. Hoping to make him blush the way he did then. “You’re looking at me like you like me or something.”

“I do like you…or something”

His words are quiet. If you weren’t listening so intently you might have missed them as they flew under the music from the radio. His car is warm, the heat is on and you can still smell popcorn on him. He’s so close but not close enough and the way the moonlight hits his face makes you desperate to touch him.

“Then why haven’t you kissed me?”

There it is. It’s too dark to see him blush, but you see the way his shoulders tense. He looks down and cowers into himself. He’s so curious to you. He can be so sure of himself, so cocky. He’ll grab at your clothes and whisper sweet nothings to you in the dark of a theater. Yet, the moment you force him out of that shell he turns so shy.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. He chuckles and you see his fingers start to fidget against his steering wheel.

“I just- I wanted to earn it I guess.”

“I think you earned it the moment you called me sweet Steve.”

He looks up at you then. His fingers tense around the steering wheel again and his gaze gets so intense you hold your breath. It must have been seconds but it feels like ages when he leans in. He hovers, and you can feel his eyelashes kissing your cheeks.

Suddenly. You feel like yourself again, and you reach your hand up to the back of his head. His hair feels just as soft as you imagined it between your fingers as you pull him in. His lips are soft against yours and you feel him gasp slightly as you press against him. His hand finally leaves the wheel and lands on your thigh. It sends sparks through you as he digs his fingers into the flesh there. Not intrusive or invasive, almost like he’s trying to keep himself grounded.

You never believed people when they said they felt fireworks when they kissed. You don’t now. Kissing Steve is tender. It feels more like a bonfire after you’ve been in the snow too long. It envelops you like a weighted blanket and you curse whatever power created you to need oxygen to survive when you have to pull away for air.

His hand travels up to cover yours behind his head. He holds it there, like he’s scared you’ll pull away.

“Have I earned another one yet?”

Friends definitely don’t ask that.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

a/n: Sugar and Steve are so back. This was shorter than I wanted it to be but I’ll have my asks open for anyone who wants to send in requests or questions. I’m so thankful for everyone who shared their support for my last post! This is a project I want to continue and expand and I would love to hear from y’all:)

the images used are from Pinterest once again!

[augustjoy]

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Halloween

A/N- This is a fic i’ve been so excited about! I’m glad that i’m finally able to write a little bit more for Wayne, i loved his character and i thought he was such an amazing father figure for Eddie, it’s a shame we didn’t see more of him 🥺 This was originally from my halloween event that i had to unfortunately cancel, the premise was for each character to be correlated with a horror movie and the fic would be written in a way where it was either similar to the premise of the movie or just had something in general to do with it.

Summary- It’s Halloween night, and after taking you and the boys out trick or treating, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne has a very exciting surprise for all of you.

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- This is written as if the reader and the boys are children, around 8-9 years old.

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @ghosttownwherenoonegoes (i know you’re not on my tag list but i do know how much you adore uncle wayne and i thought you’d really love this 🥰)

(my tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 3.1k

“Don’t stuff yourselves full of candy!” Wayne yelled out from the living room, walking his way down the hall into the doorway of Eddie’s bedroom where you and the boys were hurriedly stuffing the pockets of your jackets with fun sized candies from your pillowcases, “We’re getting snacks there tonight, i don’t want you too full when we get there.”

“Yes Mr. Wayne.” You and the boys said almost in unison.

He had been kind enough to take you all trick or treating that night, giving your parents a break and letting you all go together just like you did every year. You were hoping that sooner or later they’d let you go by yourselves but they always told you that you’d have to wait until middle school.

“Where are we going?” Eddie asked his uncle, his oversized jean jacket hung over his small frame as he helped you into your sweater. He was a year older but he had always been so much bigger than any other kids your age.

Wayne smiled and shrugged as he held the door open, watching as Grant helped Jeff into his jacket and Gareth stuffed a few more twizzlers into his pockets.

“Surprise.” He could see just how excited you all were. If there’s one thing he knew about kids, it’s that they loved surprises, “But you’ll have to wait until we get to the truck for me to tell you, so move your butts if you want to get there on time.”

In almost in instant you were pushing the boys out of Eddie’s room and into the living room, waiting for Wayne to give the ok for you all to head out to the truck.

“Where do you think he’s taking us?” Gareth asked as he fixed the knitted cap over his curls.

“I dunno,” Jeff shrugged, reaching into his pocket to pull out a reese’s cup to snack on, “what else is there to do on Halloween? We already got our candy.”

“Maybe he’s taking us home,” Grant yawned, already close to a sugar coma, “we were out for a while…”

“What about a cemetery?” You said, looking up to Eddie with a mischievous smile to match his.

“I don’t think he’s taking us to any of those places.” Eddie finished doing the buttons on his jacket, “He went over to the hall closet with all the blankets, we don’t need blankets in a cemetery.”

Wayne walked out from down the hall, a few folded blankets in his arms as he smiled seeing you all waiting patiently in a neat line,

“All ready?”

You all nodded, all smiles and giggles as Wayne opened the front door for you, each one carefully going down the concrete steps and wandering over to Wayne’s work truck. He locked the front door and walked over to the bed of the truck, undoing the hatch and laying a blanket out across it, setting the rest of the pile on the end,

“Alrighty kiddos, one at a time,” He reached down and helped Eddie into the bed of the truck, groaning as he lifted him, “each one take a blanket alright?”

Each of the boys nodded, wrapping their blankets around themselves as they set next to one another in the bed of the truck to keep warm. Wayne had saved the softest one for you, handing it to you and letting you get all comfortable, all of you still confused as to where he was taking you.

“Now,” Wayne started, “I know you kids have been real excited about tonight, and since it’s my year again to watch you i figured i might as well make it a little special.” He smiled bigger seeing the smiles on your little round faces, “I’ve asked your parents about it, and they agreed that you’re all old enough, so i’m taking you to the drive in tonight to go see Halloween.”

You couldn’t help your excited giggles, looking at one another and seeing just how much you were anticipating going to see that movie. Eddie had even suggested the five of you sneaking out to go see it.

Thank god Wayne found out about it before it was too late, he had no problem taking you all to see it.

“Is it really scary?” Grant asked, “I don’t know if my dad wants me watching scary stuff before bed…”

“It’s not too scary,” Eddie said as his head popped out of the blanket he had wrapped around himself, “don’t worry, i’ll tell you when all the scariest parts are.”

“Now, Eddie’s done this before, but i don’t know if you kids have. I’ll drive the truck up and you’re gonna hide under those blankets when i pay for the tickets.”

“We get to sneak in?” Jeff said with a smile, “Just like the big kids do?”

“You bet,” Wayne put the hatch back up, walking around to the drivers side as he told you exactly what to do, “and i’m gonna make sure to be real careful with you kids back there, what are the rules when you’re in the truck?”

You each went one by one listing off Wayne’s rules. You had to have heard them at least a million times before.

“No standing up while you’re driving, we have to be sitting down.” Eddie went first and Wayne nodded, looking to you second.

“No horseplay. Especially when we’re on the road.” You went next, looking to Grant who was sat next to you.

“If we have an emergency, we have to knock on the back window.” Grant glanced over to Gareth and Jeff, who were busy already trading the little candies they had in their pockets.

“Boys?” Wayne said, grabbing their attention.

They both looked up to Wayne, their little hands already fussing around with a shared bag of jelly beans, already completely lost.

“Last rule?” Wayne asked them, “No scaring me when i’m driving.” He said sternly.

“I know you kids like to joke around, and that’s all fine and well, but someone can get really hurt. Alright?”

“Yes, sir.” You all said in unison.

“Perfect! Now, who’s ready for that movie?”

The five of you jumped in your seats, nothing but smiles on your faces and a mess of giggles

The sun had started to go down, the sky a mix of darker blues and oranges, and Wayne lifted the hatch back onto the truck as you all had gotten comfortable in your spots. Each of the boys around you as you laid in the middle, your back against the cabin where Wayne sat and your fuzzy blanket wrapped around your body. The boys had their blankets wrapped around themselves as you did, ready to hide themselves from the employee sitting inside the ticket booth. Eddie knew this plan well.

You and the boys had a giggle as the truck started up, vibrating beneath you as you sat comfortably in the back. You watched the trailer get smaller and smaller, the gravel road beneath the truck making the bed rock back and forth.

Once Wayne pulled out onto the road, the drive was smooth, you and the boys keeping an eye out for the white screen out in the distance, not being able to help the excited laughter.

“Is it really scary?” Jeff asked, snuggling himself deeper into his blanket.

“Not really,” Eddie turned to him, “I mean, it’s scary, but not scary scary.”

“You said that about Alien!” Gareth shouted.

“Don’t you love that movie?” You asked.

“Well…. yeah…” Gareth shrugged and looked down at his lap, “But it was scary when we saw it the first time!”

“But it was a really cool movie.” Grant said, the rest of you agreeing, “No aliens pop out of anyone’s chest in this movie right?”

“No,” Eddie said with a laugh, “but there’s lots of blood, and Michael Myers has this huge knife that he uses, and i know there’s adult stuff in it but Wayne always tells me when to cover my eyes so i’ll know when it’s coming.”

“Why do we have to cover our eyes?” You asked him, pulling out a little fun sized Twizzler from your pocket and popping it into your mouth.

“Cause it’s grown up stuff! We’re not allowed to see it yet! That’s what Wayne always says.” Eddie looked over his shoulder and smiled big as soon as he saw the few cars lined up beside the ticket booth, “We’re almost there! Everyone get all covered up.”

The five of you quickly got settled into the bed of the truck, scrunching up your little bodies as tightly as you could, laying your blankets over yourselves to keep hidden. Though you couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip out as you felt the truck inch closer and closer.

It was hard to not figure out that there were five little bundled up kids under those blankets in the bed, but when Wayne pulled up to the ticket booth and asked for ‘just one ticket’ the man in the booth played along gladly, smiling as he heard your collection of giggles when the truck started up once more.

You all quickly sat up and tossed the blankets up, huddling together around them and laughing,

“He never even knew we were all back here!” Jeff laughed.

You all turned your heads and smiled in awe of the drive in.

Every time you went it was always a treat. It was different than a normal movie theater, kids playing catch in the grassy space in front of the screen, practicing their cartwheels and playing their games with smiles on their faces. There were chairs and coolers set up in the beds of trucks as parents watched over their children playing, blankets laid out next to cars with snacks and drinks laid out over them, moms putting bug spray on fussy kids. Everyone was always so much friendlier at the drive in.

“What snacks are you guys gonna get?” Gareth asked as he opened the little plastic wrapped around a tube of smarties.

“I want popcorn-“ Eddie started, quickly cut off by Grant,

“With extra butter!” He insisted.

“We definitely don’t need any more candy.” Jeff smiled as he started taking the little fun sized treats out of his pocket and setting them into the bed of the truck as Wayne pulled into a spot.

You hadn’t even gotten a chance to trade candies before rushing to leave the trailer, but that little window of time you’d have between the opening trailers and Wayne grabbing the snacks would be perfect. And it was just the right time for it too, the little bit of blood orange sun peeking out from the darkening clouds in the sky provided just enough light to still see around you.

The spot was perfect, right in the middle of the screen, not too close and yet not too far either. The vibrating beneath you ceased as Wayne shut the truck off, stretching as he stepped out from the drivers seat,

“Great job sticking to the rules kids,” He walked over to the bed and leaned into it, “that ticket guy had no idea you littles were back there, i think i brought along some professionals.”

You all smiled with one another, the thought of another trip to the drive in already on your minds, and the excitement of breaking the rules only made it all the more fun.

“You kids figure out what you wanted for snacks?”

“Yes, popcorn please?” You asked him with puppy dog eyes, hoping that would be enough to convince him to get you each your own large popcorns. You knew he never gave in but it was always worth a shot.

“Of course! Can’t go the the movies and not get popcorn! What about drinks? Eddie,” He pointed over to his nephew, doing his best to remember their usual drinks from whenever he took you all out to dinner for your sleepovers, “you’re getting your Pepsi?” Eddie noddies and smiled, and Wayne slowly went down the line, guessing one by one, “Grant wants a Sprite, and i know one of you likes Dr. Pepper…” He looked between Jeff and Gareth, Gareth speaking up as soon as he heard the mention of it.

“Me! It’s me, i want it!” He shouted excitedly.

“And i want a lemonade please.” Jeff said with a smile.

Wayne nodded and looked to you,

“Little miss? You like to get… that red cream soda, don’t you?”

You nodded with an excited smile on your lips.

“Alright, and everyone wants popcorn?”

“Yes please!” You all said in unison.

“Perfect. Eddie, you help them set up the back of the truck so you’re all bundled up while i get the snacks.”

“Yes sir.”

Eddie stood up in the bed of the truck, stretching his arms up over his head, the four of you following his lead and doing the same, giving Wayne a little wave as he took off to the snack bar.

You each made sure to help one another out, grabbing the two biggest blankets and doing your best to lay them out flat for one another in the bed so you had a comfortable spot to rest on. The rest of the blankets were used to keep yourselves warm, though you were sure you wouldn’t need them. You were bundled up enough with your jackets on, but for the end of October it was quite nice out.

The trees still had a little bit of green on them to contrast with the browns and yellows and oranges of fall. The breeze outside was just enough to still let you have fun outside with the boys whenever you wanted.

The drive in made it all the more fun.

Grant and Jeff each sat at your sides, Eddie and Gareth sitting next to them with just enough wiggle room around you all to take the candy from your pockets and move it into the middle. While Wayne was grabbing the snacks, you figured it was the perfect time to trade your candies before the movie started.

“Ok, Eddie gets all the Almond Joys to give to Wayne,” Jeff started as he took fistfuls of candy out of his pockets, “does anyone else want anything specific?”

“I want the peppermint patties!” Grant shouted as he tossed his candy into the center.

“Ugh, they’re yours.” Eddie groaned, “I don’t know why you like those so much, they taste like toothpaste.”

“They do not!” Grant argued back as you giggled, watching them have this argument again for what felt like the hundredth time.

“(y/n)?” Gareth asked, quickly getting your attention, “If i give you two of my Pop Rocks, can i have your Ring Pop?”

You looked down and peeked at the candy in his lap, smiling when you saw he had exactly what you wanted,

“Ok, but only if i can trade you my cherry Jolly Ranchers for your Airheads.”

“Deal!”

You sorted the candies amongst yourselves, each of you ending up with exactly what you wanted. A little bit of excitement erupted when you all realized there was much more to trade when you got back to the trailer.

Without even realizing it, the sky had turned from orange and purple to a deep navy blue, the moon and stars so clear when you tilted your heads up in awe.

“Alright kiddos, line up,” Wayne approached the truck bed, his arms full of popcorn bags and a tray of drinks in hand, it was shocking he could do it all so easily, “Eddie, here’s your Pepsi.” He handed Eddie one of the tall paper cups and a small bag of popcorn from the bundle, making his way down the line and giving you each your snacks, “Grant, you’re Sprite. Jeff gets his lemonade, and Gareth, you’re Dr. Pepper. And little miss gets her red cream soda.”

You took you drink and popcorn with a little giggle, your legs hanging off the back end of the truck as you wet your popcorn into your lap. The boys each got settled into their spaces, Eddie laying against the back while Grant sat on the other side of him, Jeff and Gareth laid next to each other on their stomachs over the blanket while Wayne grabbed his folding chair from the truck and set it up next to the bed to watch the movie with you.

You gave him a quick smile as he set the little cooler he packed next to the chair,

“Thank you Mr. Wayne for taking us to the movies.”

“Anytime little miss!” He smiled back to you and sat back in his chair, looking at the giant white screen and seeing the other families around you gather up their own kids to get ready for the movie.

The sky was black, the stars were brightly scattered, the moon was hanging perfectly right at the corner of the giant screen, and as soon as the lights were turned off you could hear the excited chatters of children and their parents, the groups of middle schoolers who crammed themselves into an older siblings car, and the annoyed teenagers who came there for a night alone. You even let a giggle or two slip when you heard how excited the boys were behind you.

“Hey Eddie?” You turned to him as he sat behind you, “Will you tell me if it gets too scary?”

“Yeah! Come up here and sit between me and Grant,” He grabbed the drink next to him and moved it into his lap, Grant doing the same for his popcorn as you moved to sit between them, your back against the truck as you saw the screen illuminate from the projector, “i’ll tell you when the scary parts happen and we’ll make sure you’re ok.”

“We promise (y/n).” Grant said as he turned to you with a smile.

Jeff and Gareth saw the three of you sitting together against the truck and quietly moved themselves to sit with you, Jeff in front of Eddie and Gareth in front of Grant.

“I’m so excited!” Jeff whispered.

“Me too!” You whispered back as you heard the theme song quietly start to play.

Wayne looked over and smirked as he saw you all sitting together in the bed of the truck. Bundled up in your jackets, sharing your candy, enjoying your popcorn with your eyes wide with excitement as the opening credits started to roll.

He knew that Eddie had it rough the last few year with all the family issues, but he knew that this is exactly where he was meant to be.

With his friends, watching a scary movie on halloween night just like kids are supposed to, hopped up on sugar and basking in the excitement of being able to eat candy for days. Wayne smiled to himself knowing that Eddie and the rest of you would be remembering tonight for a while, and so would he.

Maybe he’d take the long way home this time.

[medusapelagia]

Love at first sight

written for @corrodedcoffinfest (Prompt 6: HEARD IT IN A LOVE SONG) and @steddie-week (Day 6, Prompt: Dizzy / drunken confessions) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 997

The music pumps in his ears and Steve might have drunk a little bit too much. Not enough to run to the bathroom but enough that he feels dizzy and happy for no reason, so he slams his glass on the bar counter and moves toward the dance floor.

The people are dancing around him like a human tide and all he wants is to go adrift. Someone grinds against his ass but he doesn’t even turn. Steve needs this, a little bit of human contact, the feeling that he’s wanted even if his parents just sent him their last check with a letter saying that from now on he’s on his own.

He should have told Robin, but she was on a date with the pretty barista she had a crush on since forever so he just crumpled the letter and threw it in his drawer, took his keys, and got to his favorite gay bar and started to drink the last money his parents gave him. No better way to spend it after all.

Someone bumps into him too hard and Steve loses his equilibrium. Trying not to fall on the ground he grabs the first thing he can, which apparently it’s a leather jacket.

Fuck.

Leather jackets mean bikers or metal heads, usually closeted ones that will get really angry.

“I’m sorry…” he slurs, “I tripped and…” Steve starts to apologize, but the man that’s looking at him is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. Long curly dark hair, deep dark eyes, and a mischievous smile painted on his face.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He tells him, holding Steve up, “Too many drinks, huh? It happens to the best of us.”

The man chuckles, making sure Steve is stable enough on his feet before turning toward his group of friends, but Steve’s hand is still holding tight on his leather jacket.

“If you could let go of me we could go back to our friends, sweetness,” the man smiles, prying Steve’s hand open.

“No.”

“No? Don’t you want to have fun with your friends?”

“No friends.” Steve tries to explain, and the man frowns.

“You here alone?”

Steve nods, but the sudden movement makes him feel dizzy again. Luckily the other man grabs his arm and stabilizes him once more.

“Sorry… my head is spinning.” Steve apologized, hiding his face behind his free hand.

“Why don’t we sit for a moment, huh?”

“Eddie, come on! This round is on you!” Someone yells next to them, and Steve notices at that moment that he’s not in the middle of the dance floor anymore, but close to the bar counter.

The man grabs his wallet from his back pocket, one hand still holding Steve’s arm tight, “Need to get back to the table. Take what you need.”

“But how can I bring all the beers back?”

“I’ll ask Jeff to help you, don’t whine!”

Steve looks at the dark-haired man and asks, “Eddie?”

“Yeah. That’s me. What’s your name, sugar?”

“Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Why don’t you sit with me and my friends for a moment?” he proposes, dragging him toward the bar's private area, “We’re celebrating. We just signed our first contract with a musica label.” Eddie winks, “What about you? Something to celebrate?”

“My parents officially disowned me. And I’m drinking the last money they sent me.”

Eddie hums with a sad smile, “I know a thing or two about shitty parents. But maybe getting drunk in a bar alone isn’t the best choice to deal with things like that. People could take advantage of your state.”

“Are you going to take advantage of me?” Steve asks innocently, “I would let you if you wanted to.”

Eddie snorts, “Thank you for the offer but I’m the kind of guy who prefers full consent to drunk consent. Hey guys! This is Steve! He’s having a bit of a hard day so he’s staying with us until he feels a little bit better and we can send him home safely.”

“Hi Steve, I’m Jeff. Would you like a glass of water?”

“That’s a great idea. Why don’t you get one for him while helping Gareth with the beers? I gave him my wallet.”

“You gave your wallet to Gar?” another man asks, ginning, “He’s going to spend all your money. I bet twenty dollars he will come back with the most expensive bottle he can find.”

“Not my problem, Freak. You know I don’t really care about money.” Eddie shrugs, sitting next to the tall boy who keeps grinning.

“So you found another stray, Eddie?” Freak asks, scooting over to let them sit.

“I can't tell one from another. Did I find you or you find me?” Eddie replies, turning toward Steve who stares at him in confusion, “It’s a line I heard in a love song, always wanted to use it, never got the occasion. Till now.”

“Maybe wait for him to be sober before hitting on him, huh? Don’t worry. Eddie is dramatic like that, but he’s a good guy.”

“I think I love him,” Steve whispers to Freak way too loudly, and the big man chuckles.

“Look at you, Eddie! You just signed your first contract and already found yourself a groupie!”

Eddie reaches out for the glass of water that Jeff is holding and gives it to Steve, “Drink it all like a good boy.”

“I do.” Steve insists, taking Eddie’s hand and putting it over his chest, “Can’t you feel my love for you? It’s like you said. We were meant to find each other.” 

If Steve wasn’t drunk he would feel ashamed of himself, but what he said it’s true. He never believed in love at first sight, but now he would swear by it.

“Ok. Ok. Now drink your water and if tomorrow morning you’ll feel still in love with me,” Eddie says, fishing a chewed pen and writing a number on a napkin “call me.” 

Now with a second part

[dreamwatch]

Four Chords And A Dream

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #2 - Prompt: In The Beginning | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Good Uncle Wayne, Eddie's other guitar origin story | AO3

****

The audition does not go well.

Firstly, and most importantly, who the fuck do these dweeby band kids think they are? They’re babies who think they’re special because they can play the violin and the cello and oh, they read music? Well la-de-fucking-da.

Secondly, so what if he only has an acoustic guitar? He can play! He was better than their guitarist, stuck-up little shit.

Thirdly, he’s so pissed off with Shawn. They were starting a band together, and now he’s joining these two assholes? It’s not his fault he doesn’t have an electric guitar, excuse him for not having any money.

He storms into the trailer, slamming the door behind him, which makes him flinch because he knows any second he’s going to hear—

“What have I told you about that door?”

And like, whatever. He’s sick of living in this stupid trailer, sick of not having any money, sick of being looked at like he’s shit just because his dad is— just because of his dad. So his uncle can stick it up his ass as far as he’s concerned.

He throws his bag into the corner of the room and throws himself onto his bed. Homework can wait. If he does it at all.

Uncle Wayne knocks on his door, something he will never get used to. Dad never knocked. Eddie tells him to come in, though his head is stuffed under a pillow. Maybe he won’t hear him and he’ll go away.

“Take it the audition didn’t go well then,” Wayne says, pointing out the fucking obvious. 

He starts to speak, still under the pillow, but Wayne pulls it off his head. He’s so annoying sometimes.

“They didn’t like me. Looked at me like I was shit. And Shawn’s a fucking traitor.”

He feels the clap on the back of his head. “Language!”

“Well, it’s true.” He picks at his nails. He doesn’t know how to say the next bit without making Wayne feel bad. Because even though he’s annoying sometimes, he’s a good uncle and he gives him everything he can. 

“They said I couldn’t play if I didn’t have an electric guitar. They’re stuck-up snobs.”

Wayne’s silence says everything. And then there’s that big hand on the back of his head again, softly this time, and against his better judgement, because this won’t last and one day he might have to go back to his dad, he leans into it. He can feel the sting in his eyes and bites down hard on his lip. He doesn’t want Wayne to notice.

“Well, sounds like you’re better off without ‘em.” Wayne stands, knees popping and back cracking. He’s not old, not really, but sometimes he looks it. Wayne works long hours, longer since Eddie came to stay. He feels guilty, but one day he’ll make it up to him.

****

School is shit, as usual. He comes home, drops his bag in his room, as usual. And then he notices the guitar on his bed. 

An electric guitar.

“It’s a loaner,” Wayne says walking up behind him. “Gary from work. He ain’t using it, says it needs new strings but it works. Like I said, a loaner, but he ain’t in a hurry for it back. No amp though, they got one at school?”

It takes a second to find his voice. “Yeah,” is all he manages. 

“Alright then.” Wayne claps him on the shoulder and leaves him alone with an actual, real life, godamn electric guitar in his room.

Wayne is the best.

****

He can see the surprised looks on their faces when he turns up with a new guitar. 

Jeff, the other guitar player, looks him up and down. “Can you play Love Gun?” 

“In my sleep.”

 “Fine,” Jeff huffs at him, and then he turns away to get plugged in. The snotty bass player just sneers at him. Honestly, he doesn’t even want to be in a band with these pricks anymore, he just wants to show them what they’re missing out on.

It’s spotty, to start with. He and Shawn are used to playing together, and Shawn isn’t used to playing with a bassist so the timing is going in and out. But they level off and it actually sounds good. Really good. And then, because he’s a cocky shit, he plays the solo. It’s actually not even that hard, but it sounds impressive, and if the way the other two are looking at each other is anything to go by, they thought so too.

They play Paranoid next, and they’re even better this time, totally locked in. He kind of wanted to do his thing, flip ’em the bird and tell them to stick their kiddy band where the sun don’t shine. But now he’s excited. Now he really wants this. 

When they’re done, a little sweaty, (Eddie’s throat sore because he has to show off that his voice is pretty much broken now) the two dweebs take themselves off into a corner. “We need to discuss,” says Jeff. 

“What’s to discuss?” he complains to Shawn. “I was fucking amazing.”

“Jesus, calm down, Tony Iommi.” 

Eddie flips him off. He’s still pissed about him being a traitor, even if it did work out.

The other two look nervous as shit when they come back, cutting each other furtive glances.

“Uh, so, we’d really like you to join the band,” says Jeff. “You know, if you want to.” 

Eddie starts packing up the old guitar, tucking it back into it’s case. It’s not his, after all. “Uh, I don’t know. Not sure it’s my thing, afterall.”

“What?!”

He turns round, grin slapped on his face. “Kidding. I would be honoured to grace your band with my exceptional talents.”

****

Uncle Wayne is gone when he gets home, but there’s a note on the counter top for him.

Ed,

Worked something out with Gary. Guitars yours. Hope it went well. Dinner staying warm in the oven, EAT IT!

Love, 

Wayne

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Realistically, Steve knows the band won’t hang around Chicago forever. He knows they’re out promoting a new album; knows they’ll have to move on and that Eddie has to go with them. It doesn’t stop him from wanting Eddie to stay; to live in the quick familiarity he’s built within Steve’s little found family.

Eddie and Robin seem to have already created their own secret language, all gestures and movement and eye contact Steve picks up on but can’t quite read. He’s already picking on the Party like he’s known them their whole lives; ruffling Dustin’s hair, elbowing Mike, throwing his arm around Will’s shoulders, and giving Lucas little shoves. 

It’s easy; so easy to get caught up in how charismatic Eddie is. Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off him, and Eddie knows. He keeps making comments, throwing winks in Steve’s direction, seeing right through every wall he’s ever built around himself and Steve is caught between being obsessed with it and terrified. 

He stops drinking after the one beer, worried he’ll make things weird if he gets anywhere near tipsy, opting to stay as far away from the possibility as he can. If anyone notices, they don’t comment.

Lucas is chatting animatedly with Jeff, Max sitting close by, twisting braids into El’s hair. Dustin, Mike and Will appear to be grilling Gareth and Freak about dungeon and dragon campaigns Eddie used to run. Nancy has her arm looped through Robin’s, but her attention is on the phone in her hands, as Eddie and Robin talk about what touring is like.

“Where else are you going on this tour?” She asks as Steve tunes back into the conversation.

“This isn’t really a tour, we just haven’t been on the road in a while and we just stopped the album, so we lined up a few shows to get our feet wet before we hit the road for real this summer. One more show out in LA on Tuesday, then we’re done until May, for now.” Eddie explains.

“We’re in LA on Thursday!” Robin exclaims, and Steve’s stomach drops because, yeah. LA on Thursday. He trains his eyes on the glass in front of him, not willing to actually look at anyone they’re around. 

“We could totally meet up again if you guys are able to swing it?” Freak offers, and Steve forces a little smile onto his face and nods.

“We can figure it out later,” Eddie says after a few beats, and Steve is grateful for how the conversation rolls onto the next topic. When he finally looks back up, though, Eddie’s still looking his way. Steve hits him with what he hopes comes off as a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t seem to pay off the way he hopes.

Once the tab is closed and the staff is tipped well, Steve catches Eddie’s elbow on their way out the door. “I would like to meet up in LA, if you’re interested. I didn’t mean to get weird about it, it’s… I’ve been in my head a bit about that game since it was announced.”

“Oh, hey, no worries. We’re in LA the whole week, then we’re heading home. So no pressure, honest.” Eddie hooks his hand over Steve’s softly.

“Well, we should get in Wednesday, but we could totally do something after the game or even Friday?” 

Eddie smiles and nods, patting over Steve’s hand. “Text me about it.”

“I can do that. How much longer are you guys in town for, anyway?” Steve asks.

“Ah, the dreaded question comes,” Eddie’s playful, and it makes Steve’s face heat up. “We’ve got just under another 24 hours in the Windy City before hitting the road again.”

“Oh,” It pulls his chest in a way he wasn’t expecting, in a way that shouldn’t be happening for a rockstar he was adjacently aware of in high school. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Harrington,” Eddie’s teasing again, and it does nothing to help the blush on Steve’s face. “You can’t possibly miss me this much when I haven’t even left yet.”

“Shut up,” Steve shoves him away then, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout, only for Eddie to pull him in with an arm around the shoulder.

“We can grab brunch or something? We leave around 8 to avoid rush hour, so I’ll have to be in the bus by 6, or I’d say dinner.”

“Brunch works for me.” 

~~~~

The trip back to the hotel doesn’t go as Eddie expects; everyone is silently chatting amongst themselves, nodding and tapping along to the music and not causing a scene. He almost points it out, but elects not to bring unwarranted bullying upon himself instead. The guys had been giving him shit about Steve near constantly, so this was a nice change of pace after the last few days.

There was actually quiet as he made his way back to his room. A hot shower finally restored warmth to his bones the hockey arena had stolen, and he was drying his hair when he heard his phone vibrate with a text notification.

Steve: anything you're craving for brunch tomorrow so I can pick a place?

It’s practically too easy to flirt with Steve; he sets up lines without even seeming to realize. But Eddie still can’t get a real gauge on how Steve feels about the flirting, so he sidesteps the easy pass he could have made about Steve being enough of a meal, in favor of actually answering.

Eddie: French toast?

The next series of texts come before Eddie even moves his hands back to the towel over his hair.

Steve: sick, I’ll pick you up around 10:45

Steve: you mentioned going home, did you mean like, back to Hawkins?

Eddie twists his hair up in the towel, and lays down on the side of the bed he doesn’t sleep on before firing off an answer.

Eddie: nah, I’ve got a place in Nashville and no reason to go back to Hawkins anymore. My uncle moved to Indy, so that’s usually as close as I get.

Steve: any reason you moved to Nashville?

Eddie: are we playing 20 questions?

Steve: sorry.

Eddie bites his lip, and only hesitates for a moment before flipping over onto his belly and hitting the FaceTime button. Steve answers on the second ring, looking embarrassed, but Eddie doesn’t let him get a word in.

“My mom was born and raised in Memphis, but she always told me her favorite city was Nashville. I was there with her a few times when I was little and she’d just, like, light up. And music is so heavily engraved into every inch of the city, it’s hard to not find inspiration everywhere you turn. So. I bought a place in Nashville the minute I had enough saved up, and it’s kind of my home base now.” Eddie explains, watching as Steve’s face softens and he relaxes into his chair listening to Eddie’s answer. “Do I get to ask a question now?”

“I really wasn’t trying to be annoying, “ Steve looks ready to keep going with an apology, but Eddie cuts him off.

“Why do you play hockey?” It stops Steve dead in his tracks, and he genuinely looks confused for a moment. Eddie almost offers to drop the topic, but Steve fumbles his way into an answer.

“My, uh. My dad wanted me to play before I was even born. Because he played. Professionally for a few years when I was growing up, then he went on to coach.” Steve explains, and it sounds a little rehearsed. Eddie’s sure it’s something that comes up often if his father played and coached. “Gotta keep the Harrington legacy alive, I guess.”

There was a bite to Steve’s words that wasn’t lost on Eddie. “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

Eddie can see Steve working over how he wants to answer before he shrugs and sighs. “Because it’s all a show for him. The part we don’t talk about is how I got hurt and benched most of my senior season and he cut me off when I didn’t get full rides. Convinced me it was better to not go to college at all, despite the other scholarship offers, than to not get promised a spot on the ice. Convinced me to self-sabotage so I had to fight tooth and fucking nail to get into the league at all.” Steve pauses, then, and lets out a quiet laugh. “Sorry, that’s so unbelievably whiny of me. I love getting to play professionally, and I don’t take the opportunity for granted.”

“Not whiny. Dads can be the fucking worst.” Eddie offers, gently, and is grateful when Steve doesn't press on that particular bruise.

Instead, he takes his turn to ask a different question. “Why music?”

“This is lame, but the answer is once again my mom.” Eddie rolls his eyes at himself, but he smiles. “She was a musician. There were always instruments around and music was always playing and we traveled for her to perform. I knew my whole life I wanted to be a musician like her, but it wasn’t until after she died that I figured out that songwriting… telling stories and painting pictures with words and melodies and making people feel something…” Eddie trails off, lost in the thought.

“I’m sorry you lost her. It sounds like you enjoyed your childhood with her.” Steve offers, hopes it doesn’t sound like a forced nicety, but Eddie smiles and his nerves ease.

“She was a force to be reckoned with. Firing on all cylinders at once, chaos and home bundled into one.” Eddie’s soft a quiet for a moment, and Steve appreciates the silence by taking in how relaxed the other is to be talking about his feelings; it’s a refreshing break from many of his experiences with teammates or opponents who don’t know how to get emotional in a healthy way. Eventually, though, Eddie clears his throat. “Anyway. Back to 20 questions,”

“I wasn’t trying to start a game, really, I just… like talking to you,” Steve admits around a blush, tucking his chin into the collar of his shirt in an effort to hide the shade of his cheeks, but Eddie’s smile says his cover is blown.

“ANYWAY!” He announces louder, then taps at his chin. “Favorite and least favorite teams to play and why, go.”

“I’m not a dog.” Steve laughs but thinks about his answer anyway. “Favorite is probably the Flyers in Philly. Their fans are absolutely brutal, and their mascot is hilariously terrifying.”

“I have seen many a Gritty TikTok, so I completely understand,” Eddie gives him a few beats before he prompts. “Least favorite?”

“The Kings. LA. Billy Hargrove.”

“The…, what the fuck? How many guys from Hawkins are professional hockey players?” Eddie asks, because honestly, how had he not known there was more than Steve?

“He’s technically from LA, which is why he went back, thank God.” Steve mumbles, before dropping his head back against the wall behind him. “But, for whatever it’s worth, there’s me, Billy, and Tommy Hagan in the league.”

“Well isn’t that a fun bunch to surround yourself with,” Eddie muses out loud. Tommy and Billy were two of the biggest assholes Eddie had ever met, and it sounded like Steve wasn’t too fond of the other pair either.

“I actually…” Steve trails off, before trying again. “I was going to invite you guys to come to the LA game, but I’m really not sure it would be a good idea, so I’m… I’m actually going to ask you guys not to come, if that’s not too much of a dick move? I can get you tickets to literally any game you want for the rest of the season, just. I don’t think it’s worth it to get Billy started, and if he’s heard any of the press about us, I’m already going to hear it even if you’re not there.”

“Homophobe extraordinaire still, then?” Eddie guesses, and Steve chokes out a laugh, before covering his mouth and holding up a finger to ask for a moment to compose himself.

“He's… a lot of things.” Is the response Steve opts for, but Eddie can tell there’s more there. Whatever the two of them are doing, it doesn’t feel like Steve is ready to elaborate, so Eddie moves on. 

“I think it’s your turn.”

~~~~

Nothing changes after Corroded Coffin leave Chicago, though. Not in the ways Eddie had expected, at least.

Steve still texts him throughout the day, answers his Facetimes whenever he’s available. Eddie makes him the playlist he promised, and Steve gives feedback on which songs he likes and which ones he really doesn’t, after Eddie promises to not take Steve’s opinions personally. Which, to be fair, he tries really hard not to.

The concert in LA comes and goes, and Steve seems to send him every TikTok he comes across from the show. It’s a refreshing break, as every few videos in Eddie’s feed are of him cheering for Steve at the game, or Steve watching from sidestage in Chicago. 

A text from Robin eventually confirms their arrival in LA, and Steve and Eddie make plans to meet up after the game. Since Steve had expressed concern about Eddie going, he decides to just watch from the bar they agree to meet at. Televised games make it easier to track the puck, but Eddie decides he likes being there in person better.

Eddie’s sipping absently on his beer and in the time it takes him to look down at a text from Chrissy, several of the people around him react to something. Eddie looks around to make sure someone in the bar hadn’t passed out. When he looks back at the screen, absolute mayhem has broken out on the ice. The refs are trying to separate players from one another, and Eddie’s scanning through the numbers on each Blackhawks jerseys before he finally spots Steve, slightly off to the side from everyone else. The camera pans away from him, zeroing in on the fight, now between a Blackhawks defenseman and none other than Billy Hargrove. 

Billy’s helmet and gloves are off, teeth shining with blood as he grins like a psycho and starts to skate in Steve’s direction. One of the refs pulls him back, though, escorting him into the penalty box while another Kings player gathers his helmet, stick and gloves and clears them to the bench. 

The camera finally pans back to Steve, who is now sitting with his back against the boards. He’s got a gloved covering the lower half of his face, but his white jersey is covered in blood. A ref and the Blackhawks goalie are kneeling on either side of him as someone else speaks with him. The camera zooms in as the TV crews work to make out what is happening, just in time for Steve to lower his hand and shows off a gnarly gash along the side of his face. He leans forward a little and spits out blood onto the ice, and the TV jumps to the announcers in the booth. 

The volume is off, but they show a slow-motion replay of the few moments Eddie’d missed; Steve passes the puck off to another player on his team, just before Billy slams into his side. The impact sends both of them into the boards and down onto the ice. Billy swings his stick around and cracks Steve in the face with the blade heel. Steve reacts, throwing his whole arm into Billy’s face, before a sea of white Blackhawks jerseys sweep in and suddenly Billy’s a few feet away, with players from both teams piled up.

Eddie’s hand hovers over his phone; has no idea what to do in this situation. Texting Steve is useless; it would likely be hours, if not days, before he even thinks about looking at his phone. He doesn’t want to bother anyone, but he’s… well, he’s stressed. Even if Steve isn’t interested in him the way Eddie’s interested in Steve, they’ve still built a weird little friendship and that was an awful lot of blood.

So, Eddie ends up firing off a text to Robin. It’s just a simple 'let me know if there’s anything I can do,' but his phone lights up with a call immediately.

“How bad is it?”

“I’m not back with him yet, but just… meet us at the hospital, if you can?” She asks. While her voice waivers a bit, she’s calmer than Eddie expected her to be.

“I’ll be right there.” He agrees, hangs up and exits the bar before the game even returns from commercial break.

[punkrockmlchael]

Stupid Shower

Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist | Corroded Coffin Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Plus Size Best Friend Fem!Reader

(Both Gareth and Reader are in their early 20s)

This fic is for: spring break pop-up event by @corrodedcoffinfest ; the prompt is “I've got two words for you: Spring. Break.” This is very heavily based on my recent trip to Mexico because that was quite literally the shower in my hotel room! I also really wanted to write about plus size reader so... hehe!

Prompt: "I've got two words for you: Spring. Break." | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | POV: Gareth | Relationships: Gareth Emerson x Plus Size Fem!Reader | Content Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: Gareth Emerson, Spring Break with Best Friends, Spring Break, Sexual Thoughts, What the fuck is that shower?

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Pining, Sexual Thoughts, Slightly Perverted Gareth based on thoughts of Reader, Smut: Descriptions of Oral (Fem Receiving), Unprotected PinV, Creampie, afab reader

Synopsis: Your Spring Break hotel room has a nice and weird shower to share with Gareth for the week.

Word Count: 1000

“I’ve got two words for you,” you said, looking at Gareth as you placed the hotel room key to the door. “Spring. Break.” You pushed the door open and walked into your hotel room for the next week with your best friend trailing behind. 

“Spring Break in Mexico, huh? You sure know how to live it up.” Gareth mumbled, following after you. You quickly began placing your bags on one of the beds, claiming which you wanted. Gareth, however, stopped. 

He was staring at the walk in shower that sat in the middle of the room. 

The glass that looked to the room was frosted slightly, but other than that it was a completely open shower—you could see everything if you were standing at the vanity, walking to the bathroom or even simply entering the room. 

Gareth’s imagination ran wild at the sight of that shower. He thought about everything he could do in that shower—including you.

He was hoping he would catch a quick (or long) glimpse of you through the shower doors sometime this week. Catching you washing your hair, scrubbing the shampoo through your locks gently, cleaning away all the salt water and sand from the previous day. Catching you lathering up the body wash on your loofah before scrubbing away the sunscreen from the day, rinsing your entire body under the rainfall shower head. Running your hands all over your luscious and full curves as you made sure all the soap was washed down the drain. 

And you knew that he was watching, he was always stealing glances at you when he could. Whether you were in sweatpants and a t-shirt, a skirt and crop top, your two piece swimsuit that made your curves look oh so good; it didn’t matter. 

Gareth was always staring at you. 

Staring at your soft skin; he dreamed of running his fingers over your skin gently, feeling every single curve, dimple and divot beneath his fingertips. Staring at your plush thighs; he dreamed of sticking his face deep between them, breathing in your scent before licking up your folds while your thighs squeezed tighter and tighter around his head. Staring at your soft stomach and the curves of your hips and waist; he dreamed of placing his hands on your hips and waist, pulling you closer to him as he kissed you harder, lips moving frantically against yours as you both shared in a heated and intense make out session. 

He thought about what he could do to you in that shower. How you could both stand under that water together, hands roaming over each other’s wet bodies while your lips pressed together. He'd pull you closer to him, his grip firmly on your hips while he kissed you passionately under the rainfall shower. 

And it would only take a couple of minutes for things to get heated. Because before you knew it, Gareth would be pushing you against the glass wall of the shower, feeling up your entire body with his wandering hands. He would run them over your round breasts, over your soft stomach, over your waist, over your hips, over your thighs; Gareth would touch every part of your body, taking in and committing every little imperfection, curve, divot and dimple to his memory. 

You’d moan at the feeling, relishing in his simple yet lustful touches as he continued to move his hands down your body. Eventually he’d reach your thighs, lifting your right one up as he pushed his tip at your entrance, rubbing through your folds gently before he slowly pushed into you, letting you take him inch by inch.

He’d bottom out, moaning into your ear as he felt your velvet walls flutter around him, basically begging him to move and give you the release you needed and craved.

And he would; he would slowly begin thrusting in and out of you, getting faster each time he heard your little moans and gasps. 

Your leg would wrap around his body, pulling him closer to you as he thrusted deeper with the new found angle. Face buried into your shoulder, he’d leave soft kisses up and down your neck while you moaned again, the shower only making those moans sound louder as they echoed through the small space around you.

“Gareth, shit, gonna cum,” you’d whimper, biting your lip. He’d pick up his pace, thrusting harder and deeper as small ah-ah-ahs left your mouth rapidly.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Gareth would purr into your ear, encouraging you and praising you through your release. As soon as he heard your head fall back against the shower wall and he felt you clench and release around him, he was done for. 

Thrusting up into you deeply, he’d moan your name so loudly and pitifully as he released inside of you. Coating your walls with rope after rope of his hot cum. He’d ensure to pull you closer, making sure each and every drop stayed inside of you. 

“Gare,” you’d groan out, looking up at him with a hazy look in your eyes. 

“Yeah, baby?” He'd ask, leaning in to kiss your lips softly as you both stood in the shower together. 

“I love you,” you’d mutter against his lips. He’d smile, one hand making its way to your face gently to pull you in for a deeper, more passionate kiss.

...

“Gareth!” You shouted, standing on the balcony of your hotel room. “Come see this view!”

Gareth shook his head, looking around the room. Placing his bags on the free bed, he walked towards you; he stood beside you on the balcony, looking out at the ocean view. 

“Damn,” he mumbled. 

“It’s so pretty!” You stood at the edge of the balcony, arms resting on the wall in front of you. 

“Yeah,” Gareth muttered. He stared at your curves in front of him, watching you as you smiled and took in the view. 

It was going to be a long Spring Break week. 

Stupid fucking shower.

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @the-unforgivenn ; @corrodedcorpses ; @cowboylikemunson ; @alastorssimp ; @losingmygrasponreality ; @iitsmandii ; @abitchyouhate ; @dollysev