#you x gareth

[candyflossfairy]

𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝑛 — 𝟶𝟷

—𝟶𝟷. 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Corroded Coffin is an up-and-coming band gaining traction quickly; however, their lead singer just left to go solo. After finding a flyer advertising that they were holding an audition to find a new lead singer, you decide to take a chance and go for it. 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 18+ only, Wet dreams, fingering, petnames.

𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3.3k

This was it. It was your big break. Your opportunity. Your time to shine. Well… maybe not quite yet. You had to get through the audition first, and get the spot in the band, but… well, Corroded Coffin was up and coming. They’d already hit radio stations in your city, and when you’d seen the flyer that they were looking for a new lead singer you just… had to try. 

It was a sign. It had to be. 

Not to mention, hanging out with a bunch of cute boys and making music didn’t sound bad at all.

Even though this was a total long shot and you had to be amazing for them to pick you since their old lead singer was a guy. Their songs were made for a guy to sing, not a girl. Even still. You had to try.

You had to.

You stood outside in the line of others auditioning, every one of you dressed up in your best rocker attire. You thought a little cleavage and fishnets didn’t hurt, and you were the only girl in the line other than girlfriends who seemed to come and support their boyfriends in auditioning. 

You were alone. You hadn’t told anyone what you were doing, out of fear of jinxing it. Your guitar was in its case at your side, being your only companion as you slowly moved up in the line. 

Finally, you were inside and signed in with your name and phone number. The attendant handed you a number that you pinned on your shirt. Number seventy-six. Seventy-five other people were auditioning ahead of you, and god knows how many were after you. Your chances felt even slimmer.

Still, you would do your absolute best.

You sat with the others who were waiting to audition as another attendant called a number every once in a while. Your knee bounced with jitters as you played through the song you were going to sing and play for them in your head. 

You had this.

“Seventy-six!”

Fuck. You were going to throw up.

You stood and grabbed your guitar case with shaking hands as you walked up to the attendant. It was only then that you noticed all of the stares. You were the only girl there; of course, people were staring.

“You’re seventy-six?” The attendant asked as if to check once more.

You nodded, wetting your lips. “I do have the number on.”

The attendant seemed to want to say something else but just opened the door for you.

You took a deep breath and stepped inside. 

Sitting on one side of the room behind a table were the members of the band; and, of course, their manager. Your cheeks turned a little pink as they were all staring at you, surprised. 

One of them, however, was grinning way too widely at you. 

“Welcome to the audition. I’m Eddie. This is Gareth, Billy, Jonathan, and Steve; our manager.”

“Hi,” You greeted. 

“Can we get your name, sweetheart?” Eddie asked.

You stated it, and then sat your guitar case on the floor to unlatch it and pull out your guitar as they scribbled down notes on their papers. 

“Do you need anything? Maybe a bottle of water?” Steve spoke up next, leaning back way too far in his chair. He looked very different from the rest of them, more preppy boy than a rockstar. That was probably why he was their manager, you thought.

“Oh, a bottle of water would be nice.” You smiled.

Steve snapped, and the door attendant brought one over to you. You plugged in your guitar before flicking on the provided amp and stepping up to the microphone. It was a small room, so the volumes on both were pretty low. Shockingly, the acoustics in the room were very good.

You took a sip from the water before picking up your pick and giving your guitar a quick strum. 

“What are you playing for us today?” Billy asked another person who looked way more pretty boy than rock band, but you couldn’t judge.

“A Rose Bush Symphony.” You stated one of their songs, and they all looked intrigued.

“Whenever you’re ready.” Eddie nodded. 

You took a deep breath before you started strumming the opening notes on your guitar. It was only a little off with it lacking a drum beat behind it, but they were already aware of that.

This, in all honesty, was probably the best you’d played in a while. It was a good feeling, and you forgot that it was an audition at all as you strummed and sang along and hopped around like you were on a stage, playing at your own concert.

By the end, you were getting the big O from the band. A standing ovation.

“Damn, didn’t expect that from you.” Billy laughed, clapping slowly.

You licked your lips and flipped off the amp before unplugging your guitar. 

“Thank you guys for this opportunity, I appreciate it.” You smiled at them as they started discussing quietly among themselves. You placed your guitar back into its case and closed it before standing. 

“Have a good day, sweetheart. You’ll be hearing from us.” Eddie finger waved at you before Steve whacked him in the back of his head.

“What he means is that we’ll be discussing. If we pick you, you’ll hear from us in a few days. Thank you for coming.” Steve nodded to you.

“Thank you guys, again.” You gave them all a smile before leaving the room. 

Jesus Christ.

They were a rowdy bunch. Whatever happened now, you did your absolute best. You knew you did. You were proud, regardless of if you got the position or not. You nodded to yourself and released a breath before heading home.

An hour car ride later you were back; you quickly put up your guitar before heading to work. 

You stepped into the back of the dive bar and punched in before heading to the bar. 

“Hey, Rudy.” You greeted your coworker. He was around your age and not bad looking — but definitely not your type. He smelled like an ashtray even though you knew he got good grades in school. 

“Hey.” He grinned at you as you stepped up to take a patrons order.

Twelve orders later and the bar was pretty satisfied for the moment. You leaned against the back counter next to Rudy.

“Sooooo… how are things going?” He asked.

“Fine. Normal. Totally normal.” You sputtered.

“Sounds like things are not normal.” He laughed, grabbing you both a bottle of water.

“Oh, you know. I just… maybeauditionedtobecorrodedcoffinsleadsingertoday. Nothing crazy.” You laughed.

“I’m… You what?” He looked at you, confused.

“I… auditioned… to be—”

“Wait, wait, you’re telling me you actually auditioned somewhere?! That’s amazing!” He laughed, pulling you in for a back-slapping hug.

“Yes, yeah, I did. Actually. Corroded Coffin is looking for a new lead singer.” You told him after he let go of you.

“Corroded Coffin? Oh, honey. You could’ve picked any bar in town to play by yourself, and your first audition in years you picked something you can’t get?” He shook his head, “You’re just trying to put yourself down. I see what you’re doing.” 

“Why—who says I can’t get it?” You huffed. 

“C’mon. Their lead singer was a guy. They’re looking for another guy. They recorded their old songs with a guy. They’re not going to change their whole thing for some girl.” 

Ouch. 

“Well, nice to know I’m just some girl—” 

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. I just mean that you’re not… that’s a total different level and you haven’t performed in a long time.” He explained.

“I am very aware how—”

“Ay! Gimmie another beer!”

You sighed and grabbed a fresh glass, pouring the mans draft for him before sliding it over and grabbing his ticket to add it to his tab.

“Look. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just think you should’ve picked something more on your current level before you went straight for the big leagues.” Rudy bit his lip.

“They’re not a huge band or anything. They’re just… up and coming.” You tapped your fingers against the counter.

“They’re the biggest thing Indiana has had in a while.” He looked at you.

“Okay, I know it was stupid to think I could actually get it, but it got me back into it anyways, right? Like, that’s the scariest thing I’ll ever have to do unless my own career takes off, right?” You pointed out.

“Alright, alright. Just don’t get upset when they don't call you.” He sighed heavily.

“I won’t,” You promised.

Your shift ended around three a.m. and you drove back home. Rudy really did a number on your confidence levels, even though the band seemed to be excited about you after your audition.

Then again, maybe they acted that excited about everyone, just to make them feel better. 

After a quick shower — and maybe a quick crying session in said shower, you were in bed; dreaming of what will never be.

Your pussy clenched tightly around his fingers as they pumped in and out of you, his mouth on your pert nipple; sucking, nipping. His fingers curled inside of you, pressing right into that spongey spot in you that made your back arch high and a moan leave your lips.

“Eddie—” You whimpered, “Please!” You cried out.

“Please what, sweetheart?” He looked up at you with those pretty brown eyes, his lips glistening slightly.

“Plea—”

You shot up out of bed at the loud ringing that flowed through your house, your cheeks flushed a deep red as you tried to catch your breath. It had been a long time since you’d had a wet dream, and even longer since you’d had one about a literal stranger.

The phone rang again, and you scrambled out of bed, trying to ignore the tingling between your legs as you made your way into the kitchen.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Hi, this is Steve Harrington with Corroded Coffin, how are you doing today?”

Oh shit. “Hi! Hi! I’m doing great, how are you?”

“Great, actually. We were really impressed by your audition and wanted to see if you could come in today and play with the band as a sort of callback situation.”

“Oh, oh shit, yeah! Absolutely! What time, and where?” 

Steve gave you a time and an address, which you scribbled down on the palm of your hand. 

You didn’t have much time to get ready. It was about an hour drive to Hawkins; but you would make it. Thank God you showered last night.

You slapped on some makeup and clothes; including the fishnets again because they seemed to give you good luck yesterday. 

The drive into Hawkins was filled with you listening to the one Corroded Coffin CD you had, trying to make sure you knew the lyrics to most of the songs at least. You did know them; but you wanted to be sure. 

Where you pulled up, after following the side streets, was a house. The garage door was open, and the band was all in it, laughing and talking together. Your nerves welled up once more, but you took a deep breath and got out, grabbing your guitar case from the back seat.

“There she is!” Eddie was the first to greet you with a wide grin and a wave. You smiled back and tried not to blush too hard as you remembered your dream from last night.

“Surprised?” Billy asked, his arms crossed over his chest.

“A bit, yeah.” You admitted, placing your guitar case down. 

“Well, don’t be nervous. You’re mostly just hanging out today.” Steve told you with a kind smile. 

“I’m more surprised that we’re in a garage.” You laughed.

“Yeah, it’s Gareth’s. This is where we started.” Jonathan piped up. He wasn’t paying much attention to you as he was tuning his guitar.

"Cool," You nodded.

"You want a beer or anything?" Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked way too smug, and you couldn't help but wonder why. 

"Maybe later? Beer isn't exactly good for the vocal chords." You laughed, pulling your guitar from its case. 

"Well shit, look at her. She knew something that you didn't." Billy teased Eddie, slapping him on the back. 

"Yeah, yeah. It's good to know, though. For concerts." Eddie huffed, walking over to grab his guitar. 

Everyone got into place with their instruments, Billy on drums, Gareth on bass, Jonathan on rhythm guitar, and Eddie on lead. You, in all technicalities, didn't need your guitar. It was a comfort object for now. 

"Alright, let's start off with A Rose Bush Symphony since we know you know that one." Steve piped up, taking a seat off to the side.

The drums started and you tried to not shake as you strummed the opening notes at the same time as Eddie, taking a deep breath before you started to sing. 

"Alright, alright! Free concert’s over. Everyone shuffle along!" Steve shouted over the crowd you had accumulated in the driveway. 

All of you were sweaty, despite the cool air. Spirits and adrenaline were high. You’d just played your first concert, and everyone enjoyed it. There had even been shouting for “Encore! Encore!” You felt lucky that you knew the lyrics to their songs. At some point, your guitar had been put down and you’d taken the microphone in hand, hopping around and playing off of everyone else’s energy. If you asked yourself, you fit right in. You just hoped the others thought the same.

“How about that beer?” Eddie laughed, brushing his bangs back. He’d pulled his hair up into a bun between songs around midway through to get it off of his neck. 

Billy had done the same, but had also shed his shirt. You were trying to not drool over all of them. With their arms out and their skin glistening. 

“A beer sounds great.” You smiled, your voice a little raspy from overuse. You’d definitely have to train it up if this was going to happen.

Gareth and Jonathan stepped inside of the house to grab everyone a beer while Steve approached you and gave you a pat on the back.

“Well, I think that answers that. We can draw up a contract tomorrow. How does that sound?” He grinned at you.

“You mean it?” You asked, a little giddy.

“Of course. You rocked the fuck out of that crowd!” Billy barked a laugh, finally standing up from his drum set. You got an eyeful of his abs and had to look away from him to keep from blushing.

“You don’t live around here, right?” Eddie piped up.

“No, I’m about an hour north.” You nodded.

“We’ll look into finding you a place here. We’ve already booked a few gigs out of state, so it’ll be tour bus city for the next month anyways.” Steve told you.

You went a little wide-eyed. 

“We’re not that big, yet. What he means is we’ll be high tailing it out of here in about a week in a couple of vans. After these gigs, we should be able to afford an actual tour bus to take a US tour.” Eddie explained.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just dreaming big for us.” Steve huffed.

Gareth and Jonathan came back with the beers, passing them out. Gareth gave you a shy smile as he handed one to you, and you smiled back.

“What about my job?” You asked.

“This is your job now, baby.” Billy grinned.

“If you want, to save money, you can even live with us. You’ll have to get used to sleeping in hotel rooms and vans with us anyways.” Eddie pointed out.

“Can I think about it?” You prompted, not certain you really wanted to move in with five boys. That would be…definitely a lot. Especially if they weren’t clean.

“Yeah, of course. I didn’t think you would want to do that anyways. That’s why I didn’t suggest it. Living together permanently and sleeping in the same area for a month are completely different.” Steve said, shooting a look at Eddie, who held his hands up.

“We’d have to move our shit around anyways.” Jonathan huffed. “There’s not enough room.” 

“Don’t be like that. We had room when Tommy was with us, we have room for her.” Billy grunted. 

“I don’t want to impose.” You frowned.

“You wouldn’t be. Jonathan just takes a while to warm up to people. Don’t mind it.” Steve rolled his eyes.

You nodded, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling that Jonathan really didn’t like you. He barely spoke around you — the same could be said for Gareth, but at least Gareth smiled at you. He came off as shy more than he did mean.

After a little more chatting between you, Steve, Billy, and Eddie — with Jonathan randomly chiming in and Gareth saying absolutely nothing — they decided to take you back to their house to give it a look over, just so you could see what you would be getting into if you did end up moving in.

It was a pretty normal-looking house from the outside, but on the inside, it was… cleaner than you expected. There was a handful of dishes in the sink, but the counters were clean and organized, the couch was lacking stains, and the TV even had a VHS player and an NES attached to it. 

Downstairs were two rooms, Steve and Billys, and upstairs were another three; Jonathans, Eddies, and Gareths. Steve and Billy were happy to show you their rooms, both clean for the most part — only a stray T-shirt or a cluttered vanity showing any mess. Eddie and Jonathan said no, Eddie being more sheepish about it and Jonathan being more… fuck you about it. 

Gareths room was the last one, and his was spotless and organized. You suddenly knew who kept the kitchen so clean.

“So, if I did live here…where would my room be?” You asked, as the six of you came back down the stairs.

“Oh, right. This way.” Steve said, leading the group through the kitchen. He slid open the glass door to the backyard and headed towards a rather large shed.

He opened up the door and stepped in, you stepped in after him.

“We’ve been using it for storage, but this is where Tommy stayed. There’s heat and air, and no issues with bugs or anything. We can move all of this junk to the basement and attic; we just got lazy.” Steve explained.

It was just one big room with a couple of windows. There wasn’t that much stuff in it, really, but there was carpet on the floor and the walls were painted, so it was, really, like a room. 

“The only downside is you have to come inside for a bathroom,” Eddie said quickly. “But you get to control your own temperature which is really nice!” 

You nodded slowly, mulling it over in your head. It wouldn’t be an awful setup, honestly. You could see where your bed would go, and your desk, and you could get a vanity for your makeup and—there was even a closet.

“What’s this?” You asked, bending over to pick up an old shoe box at the bottom of the closet.

“Nothing!” All of the boys seemed to chorus at once, and before you knew it the shoe box was out of your hands.

You looked at them suspiciously. “It’s not drugs, right?” You asked.

“No! God, no.” Eddie laughed. “The worst we ever have here is weed. It’s just — This was Tommy’s. We should really get it back to him.” 

“Yeah, Tommy is like.. Super protective of his stuff. He just forgot it.” Billy nodded.

“...ooookay, weirdos.” You pushed passed them and back into the room.

“My lease is up soon anyways, so… I don’t see why I can’t move here.” You told them.

“Awesome. We’ll start cleaning this shit up, and you can start packing. We need you back here tomorrow for the contract, and then we’re going to rerecord some songs with your vocals. Sound good?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, cool. I’ll be back tomorrow then."

[munsonhoneybaby]

Three's Company | Eddie Munson X F!Reader X Gareth

Summary: When Gareth accidentally interrupts your typical evening with Eddie, the night takes a turn that none of you were expecting.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, alcohol consumption and heavy marijuana use so automatic dubcon, smut, mostly pwp, p in v (unprotected), voyeurism, fingering, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), daddy kink (used a total of 5 times), hair pulling, choking, little praise, little degradation, honestly just a touch ‘a everything yk how it goes

A/N: it’s not specifically stated but gareth is about 21-22 and eddie is 23, about to turn 24. this is honestly just one big filthy mess i can’t lie, so just brace yourself. and i did throw in a lil action with gareth right at the end for all my gareth girlies out there <3

started with this idea | part two

Smoke hung densely in the air, thick clouds drifting lazily through the small bedroom. The three of you were working your way through your third joint, the windows sealed and trapping the hot, heavy air inside. Empty beer bottles sat scattered on almost every surface, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s still two-thirds full on the nightstand beside three miscellaneous coffee mugs. Yours was white with a picture of a crab and said ‘Don’t bother me I’m crabby’.

You watched your boyfriend as he tapped the joint against the rim of the ashtray before leaning over you to pass it to his drummer. The openings of the cut-off sleeves of his Led Zepplin tee flashed you the dark ink crawling across his ribs. His rings clinked against Gareth’s in the handover, just loud enough to hear over the mixtape that you’d made for you and Eddie. It wasn’t exactly designed to suit the usual mood when the guys were over– Jeff would usually be there, too– but the two of you had started the evening alone together.

Eddie had been rolling up for the night at his desk when his friend called him. Apparently, Jeff had plans with a friend from work, leaving Gareth woefully bored and lonely; on a Saturday night, no less. It had you both feeling a little sorry for him, so you told Eddie to invite him over. After grumbling under his breath– something about ‘just wanting to fuck his girl in peace’– he begrudgingly did as you suggested and your party of two became three in less than thirty minutes.

You didn’t mind, though. Whoever said two’s company and three’s a crowd must have never spent two hours sitting, drinking, smoking, and talking with Gareth and Eddie.

“Sorry again for crashing your date,” Gareth apologized to you. “If Ed told me you were here, I wouldn’t’ve come.”

Eddie stood to pour a finger or two of whiskey into his Campbell’s Soup mug and you stretched your leg out, using your sock-covered foot to nudge your own mug closer to him. “Oh, so you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore?”

He scoffed, “C’mon, you know I think you’re cool as shit.” After topping off all three drinks, Eddie handed Gareth his. “I just don’t wanna third-wheel you guys too much. ‘S a little rude and pathetic, don’t’cha think?”

The boy took a swallow with a faint grimace, then rolled the desk chair he was sitting in about a foot closer to offer you the joint. “It’s not pathetic, Gare. You’re just hanging out with friends.” The music faded out and your head lolled towards your boyfriend with a lazy grin as “One of These Nights” by Eagles began. He just shook his head at you with a little smirk, biceps flexing as he raised his arms to tie his hair back in a low ponytail. Settling himself on the bed, he let his back rest against the wall as he sat between you and where Gareth sat in his desk chair. 

You took a long drag, eyelids drooping as your head tilted against Eddie’s chest. His eyes roamed your body as it fitted to his. Your shorts were a little shorter than you’d normally wear in front of Gareth, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain as he eyed your bare legs curling over his lap. Smoke billowed slowly from your mouth and the feel of his friend’s gaze on the two of you wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning down to breathe the rest of it in for himself, lips slotting familiarly between your parted ones. From your knee, his hand crawled slowly up the outside of your thigh to your hip. Your own fingers wandered to his exposed ribs, stroking lightly over the small date forever etched into his skin– the date you’d gotten together, almost three years ago now. 

He didn’t tell you he was getting it; he knew you’d tell him not to, that it was a bad omen, but he didn’t believe that. Maybe you’d only been together for a year at the time, but you were a part of him. In fact, he’d wanted to have your name done, but after seeing your reaction to Rick getting his girlfriend’s name tattooed he’d worried you’d tear him a new one for it. Though you had to admit, it had grown on you. Maybe after ten years, you’ll let me add your name, huh babe, he’d said when he first showed you. Now the thought had your thighs squeezing together, the way you both knew you belonged to each other– the way everyone knew.

Gareth certainly knew, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him though he knew he’d been staring for far too long. Watching Eddie’s teeth tug on your lower lip had him gnawing at the inside of his own. A glimpse of his tongue slipping into your mouth had the younger boy’s palms sweating. It wasn’t until his breath hitched at the sight of his friend’s hand sneaking between your thighs that you finally seemed to remember he was there.

Swatting Eddie’s hands away, you passed the dwindling joint to him and fixed an apologetic look in Gareth’s direction. “Sorry, I’ll make sure he behaves.”

“It’s okay, sorry I uh- interrupted–” He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and cracked his knuckles. “You want me to roll another one?”

“Go for it.”

While he turned around at the desk, Eddie’s mouth was meeting the sensitive flesh below your ear. His tongue grazed your skin and you let out a small gasp before pinching his thigh in warning. He hissed, but that smug little smirk of his remained. 

Meanwhile, Gareth’s shaking hands were struggling not to rip the paper. He could hear all of it, even the occasional wet smack of his best friend’s mouth on your skin. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he shook his head a little and focused on finishing the task at hand. When he finally turned back around, his mouth went dry at the sight before him.

You sat comfortably between Eddie’s legs, back against his chest and head tilted to gaze up at him. He stared back at you with the same adoration, breathing in the last hit and ashing it in the tray on the nightstand. His free hand was halfway up your shirt and Gareth tried not to imagine the way his fingers must be teasing along your ribcage. He could see the blooming spot of red in the crook of your neck– which definitely wasn’t there before– slowly growing darker. So much for making sure he behaves. 

He handed Eddie the joint and lighter which earned him a crooked grin and a “good man.” He watched him place it between your lips instead, lighting it for you as the shape of his other hand moved higher beneath your baggy t-shirt. Still, he could make out how the older boy kneaded at one of your breasts beneath the fabric until you swatted at him yet again. His throat grew tight and he could only hope and pray that neither of you noticed his pants doing the same.

The two of you had always been a little handsy, and he couldn’t deny that part of him always had some trouble keeping his eyes away, but something was different tonight. Maybe you were acting a little more intimate, maybe it was the heady music you’d been playing all night– hell, maybe he was just too fucking crossed– but it was different. He was one second away from having a nervous breakdown or busting in his jeans.

Suddenly, he was struck by the deep twang of “I Want You” by The Beatles beginning. Eddie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, “Mmm, I fuckin’ love this song. Y’know that, Gareth? She loves this song too, don’t you, sweetheart? S’that why you put it on here?”

“Shut up.” You weakly elbowed him, but both boys still caught the way your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled, his nose dragging along your cheek as he murmured, “Yeah. My sweet girl wanted me to fuck her to this song tonight, didn’t you, baby? This one always makes her shake.” Your stomach flipped nervously as your wide eyes were forced to meet Gareth’s, your bewildered expression mirrored on his face. He went on. “Maybe we should show him, hm? I mean, since he feels so guilty ‘interrupting��� us and all. What d’you think?”

Gareth was starting to think the dream-like quality of the night was because he actually was dreaming. This is Eddie Munson. The same Eddie Munson who almost knocked a middle-aged man’s teeth out for whistling at you three months into your relationship. And now, what? He wanted to–

“Y’gonna let me fuck you in front of ‘im, sweetheart?”

By your deer-in-the-headlights expression, Gareth would assume you were just as shocked by this turn of events as he was– which you partially were. You and Eddie had mentioned once or twice the idea of letting someone watch, Gareth’s name had even been thrown around when discussing the subject over a packed bowl, but you’d had no idea he had been considering it so seriously. Still, you couldn’t deny the way Eddie’s words made the heat between your legs throb. Glancing up to meet his eyes with uncertainty, you bashfully whispered, “I-I don’t know if Gareth wants that, Eds.” 

Your boyfriend’s smirk only grew, fingers teasing at the waist of your shorts. “Don’t worry, babe, Gareth’s a dirty little pervert just like me. I mean, he’s been hard for twenty minutes.”

Finally, you glanced over at the boy in question whose face was now redder than you’d ever seen before, and his eyes immediately shot to the floor. He looked like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Knock it off, you’re embarrassing him. S’okay, Gare. You’re allowed to look.”

Hesitantly, he lifted his head and his heart could’ve stopped. Eddie was tilting your chin towards him for a kiss with one hand as the other worked its way into your shorts. The glimmer of his rings in the low light caught the younger boy’s attention, eyes following them down your throat until they disappeared beneath your shirt once again. Lips leaving your boyfriend’s, you turned to him and held out the joint that had apparently stopped burning. “Wanna come get this?”

He hoped you didn’t hear the shaky breath he let out as he willed his knees not to give out and stood from his seat at the desk. “Y’sure you don’t just want me to l-light it for you?” The faint tremble in his voice matched the one in his hand as he took it from you, embarrassment warming his cheeks.

You must have noticed as you replied, “S’okay. You clearly need it more than I do, honey.” His face only grew hotter as he clocked your eyes lingering on the obvious tent in his jeans. 

Finally speaking up again, Eddie chimed, “Seriously, man. Relax a little.”

In disbelief, Gareth faintly laughed out, “Right.” Dropping back down into the desk chair, he watched you and Eddie exchange a long look, almost like some form of confirmation. A check-in. He’d always admired how the two of you communicated so effortlessly. Frankly, he admired many facets of your relationship. He and Jeff had talked more than once about how they hoped they’d be lucky enough to find a connection like yours and Eddie’s. Still, he couldn’t believe you trusted each other enough for this– that you both trusted him enough for this.

Brain still cloudy with shock, he briefly glanced around his friend’s bedroom. Almost like he had to make sure he was really there. This was really happening. While Eddie was already attempting to peel your shorts off, you refused to assist him. Gareth’s fingers clutched at the arms of the chair as you graced him with your soft gaze instead. “You sure you’re not uncomfortable, Gare? You’re okay with this?”

Simply nodding dumbly in response, he was shocked when Eddie corrected him; “Use your words, Gareth.” He said it casually, but there was a subtle firmness behind it— one he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Eddie use before, especially toward him.

What shocked him more was the way he found his body tensing in response. Afraid the words wouldn’t come out, he sheepishly cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Swear.” God, could his face flush any redder? 

Your boyfriend finally forced you to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to shove your shorts down your legs. His hands eased along your inner thighs, spreading your legs and hooking one of them over his to keep them open. Gareth was just barely able to make out the faint wet spot beginning to form on your underwear. He had to resist the urge to lean in for a closer look like some teenager watching his first porno. Eddie’s ever-wandering fingers eased over that wet spot, rubbing in soft circles around your clit.

Puffing out a soft breath from your nose, you sank further into his chest. “Feels good, huh, baby? All worked up already ‘n I’ve hardly even touched you. That excited to show off your pretty little pussy?”

“Eddieee,” You grumbled, trying again to hide your face in his chest. 

“Don’t be so embarrassed, Gareth is even more excited than you are.” Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, he asked, “How ‘bout we give him some more to work with, hm?” Taking them off, he tossed them to his friend. Said friend was a goner. He blamed his crossfaded state of autopilot for the way he instantly lifted the material to his nose and took a deep breath. Eddie chuckled, “Told ya he was a perv.”

Gareth subtly palmed at his length, practically gnawing at his lower lip as he fought not to make a sound– God forbid he interrupt as Eddie spread your legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view of your dripping pussy. Fuck, he might as well have been drooling on the floor. He could hear your wetness as your boyfriend slipped his fingers between your slick-covered lips, easing around your clit a few times. Stuck in his glassy-eyed stare, he didn’t mean to let out a broken whimper as Eddie sank two fingers inside you.

Just as he was afraid of, the older boy instantly narrowed his gaze in his direction. “Oh, we’ve got our boy on the edge of his seat right now, baby. It’s okay, Gare. I know you’ve never seen anything like my girl before, you can take your cock out. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

The way Eddie spoke to him made his whole body blaze with shame, but he still found himself doing as he was told. When he looked at you again you were watching him fumble with his belt, button, and zipper. Finally freeing himself from the confines of his jeans, his cock twitched in his hand at the sight of the intrigue in your eyes, your tongue grazing across your lower lip. You clutched at Eddie’s bicep with a soft moan, walls clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Gettin’ all wet for my best friend’s dick?” His free hand grabbed your face, your cheeks squishing under his grip. “Didn’t know my sweet girl was that fuckin’ filthy.” You whined at the sudden emptiness as Eddie withdrew his hand from between your thighs, patting your leg with a soft murmur. “On your stomach, babe.” Obediently, you rolled over and he followed, kneeling behind you to grip your hips and lift them from the bed. “‘Atta girl.”

Your face warmed as you and Gareth looked at each other– you on your knees with your chest flush to the mattress and him with his pants just below his hips, his hand fisting his cock. Then Eddie’s fingers were knuckle-deep inside you again, curling into spots that only he had ever been able to find. Your hand shot back to grab at his thigh and you let out a surprised, gasping moan. “Daddy…”

While Gareth let out a quiet groan, Eddie just gave a low, condescending laugh. “Aw, sweetheart. I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘im. I didn’t wanna embarrass you too much, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Letting out little puffy breaths, your eyes welled with tears. Normally he would take this as an excuse to tease you further, but he didn’t want you getting too worked up with the added pressure of his friend’s presence. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back, “My little crybaby. It’s okay, Daddy’s here.” Your body relaxed, spine sinking deeper into its arch as his touch warmed your skin. “Would ya look at that?” Not that he had to ask; Gareth couldn’t stop looking. “She’s just such a sweet girl for me. Ain’t that right, baby? And so pretty. One of a kind, my girl.”

Taking in the scene before him, Gareth could only hope that wasn’t true. Because he wanted you– no, he wanted this. This thing, this passion and love that you two have for each other. Even as obscene a display as it was, he felt like he was witnessing something sacred, something holy. He was blessed further when Eddie brought you back to stand on your knees, your back to his chest as he lifted your shirt over your head.

Completely bare for both of them to gawk at, you were pointedly aware of your boyfriend’s fully clothed form behind you. He pinched teasingly at your nipple, making you arch further into him and grab at the hem of his shirt. Clawing for the skin just beneath it, you finally pleaded, “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes narrowed playfully; he just couldn’t help himself. “What do you say?”

“Please, Daddy,” You whined quietly with a pout.

With a quick wink and a crooked smirk, he crossed his arms to pull the ragged material over his head. You didn’t hesitate to seek out any inch of skin you could touch, a tremble licking down your spine as the soft warmth of his bare chest molded to it. Hands still pawing at your tits, his mouth worked its way down the length of your neck. “I love you,” He murmured against your shoulder, tone playful but still drenched in adoration.

“Love you more, Eddie.” 

“Impossible,” He whispered in return before leaving one more kiss. “Now, back down.” Goosebumps erupted at the touch of his rings on your back, guiding you down until your chest met his bed once again. “Isn’t she such a good listener?”

Gareth was almost nervous to say anything– like any answer he gave could be the wrong one, and the wrong one might get the shit knocked out of him. So, why did his stomach tighten when Eddie looked at him expectantly for an answer? “So good.”

“Just wait til you hear how she sounds.” Eddie finally pushed his sweatpants down to his thighs, rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness and drawing a surprised gasp from you. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed out impatiently.

Finally sinking inside, he didn’t stop until his hips were flush with your ass. Gareth’s hand stilled, fingers tightened around the base of his length to keep from coming too soon. Each slow thrust pushed your hips forward, emphasizing the perfect arch of your back. Your eyebrows were furrowed slightly, but he could still hear your moans from behind the pillow you were clutching. That didn’t last long as your boyfriend laced a hand into your hair, pulling your head back just enough to uncover your mouth. “Don’t hide those pretty sounds, babe. We wanna hear ‘em.” 

Eddie. His best friend, his brother, his mentor, his frontman, his dungeon master. He had never thought of Eddie like this. He had never seen Eddie like this. His frizzy curls falling out of the messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, tattoos on display, muscles in his arm flexing as he gripped your hair. Sure, he’d always thought he was a pretty good-looking guy, but now Gareth was beginning to wonder how he hadn’t thought about this before.

And the two of you together? Christ, you were a work of art. He wanted to frame this moment– capture it, bottle it, sear it into his brain so he’d remember every detail exactly as it was. The way the flesh of your thighs trembled with every movement, how Eddie’s sweat mixed with yours to make your skin glisten in the dim glow of the lamps, all of it made his body burn with need. Then Eddie was speaking again.

“God, you always feel so fucking good. My girl, made just f’me, huh?”

“Yes, Daddy,” You breathed out with a whimper. “Fuck, you’re s’deep.”

“I know, baby. I know,” He cooed sympathetically. “You c’n take it, though. Always do, don’t you?”

Gareth could see how your wetness further matted the dark hair around the base of Eddie’s length with every thrust, how the slick was just beginning to reach your thighs. Each moan you let out was more broken and drawn out than the last. That was until Eddie’s hand settled around your throat, urging you to lean back into him once more, and your moans turned to shaky, gasping whines. The ringed fingers of his other hand squeezed at your breast before mapping a path directly to your clit, circling it with practiced precision. With the way your stomach trembled in response, the boy didn’t think you’d last much longer. 

He almost thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud when Eddie asked, “Aw, you gettin’ close already? C’n feel it, baby. Having an audience really working you up that much?” He grasped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Knew you were my little freak, sweetheart, but c’mon. You’re just as dirty as me and Gare.” Gareth himself felt guilty with how your face crumpled in shame, but Eddie only smirked as he kissed your temple and inched his hand lower to squeeze at the sides of your throat. “It’s okay, baby. You’re bein’ such a good girl for Daddy. So, so good f’me. Just need you to come for me now.”

Red lines and crescent-shaped indents littered his arms as you uselessly pleaded for exactly what he was already giving you. Your head fell to the side only for you to lock eyes with Gareth, though he didn’t seem to be in much better shape than you were. The pale sliver of his chest that was visible had turned the same vibrant red his cheeks had been all night. His hand, fisted tightly around his cock, was moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts as arousal all but dripped over his knuckles. The sight ripped another shuddering moan from you.

Darkness encroached on the edges of your vision as Eddie finally felt your walls spasm around him. Your nails bit into his skin so hard it nearly broke, but it only encouraged him to hold you tighter as you tensed in his arms. “Fuck yes, there it is. Feel so fuckin’ good when you’re comin’ around me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” You cried, “Please. Come inside me, I need it.” 

Though he tried to hold it back, a ragged groan tore itself from Gareth’s throat. Spurts of come stained his shirt as he fought to keep his eyes on the scene before him, but he couldn’t help but let his head fall back against the seat. He’d never felt so good. His veins were thrumming with weed and whiskey, so much so that the room still spun when he closed his eyes. But the pleasure still throbbing dully through his body like an ache wasn’t from the booze or the joints. 

The blurriness cleared from his vision just in time to watch Eddie pull you in for a messy, desperate kiss. One hand cradled your jaw while the other clutched at your hip, pressing himself as deep inside of you as possible as he came. 

Quiet sighs and pants filled the room as the three of you collectively caught your breath. Gareth just watched as you both melted into one another. Eddie’s palms soothed over every inch of your skin he could reach, and he whispered one last crazy idea in your ear– one that was somehow even crazier than the idea that had brought you all to this moment. Though the suggestion made your eyes widen and your stomach tie itself in a knot, the way you clenched around him in response compelled you to agree.

Carefully pulling out he planted one last kiss on your shoulder, allowing you to lay back against the pillows as he fixed his sweats and turned to his friend who still seemed to be recovering. “How ‘bout you come ‘n help me clean her up, Gare?” 

The boy froze in his seat, length twitching where he’d tucked himself back into his unzipped jeans. “W-What?”

“Before I change my mind,” Eddie singsonged simply in return.

Limbs weak, he quickly stood from the desk chair, sending it knocking back into the desk. Hesitantly, his knee met the edge of the mattress and he looked between the two of you for reassurance.

“It’s okay, Gareth,” You murmured softly. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Did so good for us,” Eddie cooed in agreement. He stared as his drummer slowly knelt between his girlfriend’s spread thighs, fingers winding into the boy’s hair encouragingly. “Thought you deserved a little treat.”

Gareth’s heavy eyes fell shut when he finally had the taste of you– of both of you– on his tongue, lapping up your shared mess before sinking inside. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips and thighs as he mouthed urgently at your wetness. “Tastes so good,” He panted into your skin.

“What does?” Your boyfriend asked, giving his unruly locks a little tug. “Her come, or mine?”

He only moaned in answer, tongue laving over your abused clit.

It felt wrong, looking down and seeing someone else’s head between your legs, but it only made that coil in your stomach grow even tighter. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Ah, ah, don’t be rude, baby. It’s not me this time. Let ‘im hear you say his name.”

A humiliated whine escaped you, as though admitting it aloud was more shameful than inviting him to do it in the first place. “Gareth,” You finally moaned out pitifully, your hand winding into his hair alongside Eddie’s. “You’re gonna make me come again.”

“Oh, he’d be fucking honored, babe,” Eddie chuckled smugly. Leaning over you, he left a slow, deep kiss on your lips before dipping lower to your breasts. His tongue teased at your nipple before his lips wrapped around it completely, calloused fingers finding the other. He only pulled back briefly to murmur, “Go on, sweetheart. Come for us.”

The feeling of two mouths, two sets of wandering hands, was overwhelming. Your thighs closed around Gareth’s head as your hands wound into both his hair and Eddie’s. He could feel your walls clench and your clit throb against his tongue and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He would’ve happily stayed there forever, drunkenly licking up every drop of tangy arousal that you released, but as your muscles began to twitch, Eddie gave one final pull to his hair that let him know his fun was over.

For a moment, it was quiet save for the low, bassy thrum of the music still playing. Then Eddie was up, grabbing a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats and pressing them against Gareth’s chest for him to take. “You did good, Gare. Real good, alright?” He rubbed a hand over the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “Go ahead to the bathroom ‘n get cleaned up, ‘kay? We’ll get you settled in for the night.” Cheeks warm from the praise, Gareth just nodded, heading for the hallway while you and Eddie finally got a second alone. Gazing down at you, he brushed your hair back from your face, trying to read every facet of your expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t push you too hard, did I? That wasn’t too much?”

“No, Eds, I’m okay. I liked it, it was good.” You nodded reassuringly. Still, he raised an eyebrow questioningly, holding out his pinkie which you locked yours with. “Promise,” You whispered. “Are you sure Gareth’s okay, though? Things won’t be weird with him from now on?”

“No, baby, I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.” He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and grabbed you a bottle of water from the nightstand. “‘M gonna go make him a bed on the couch, alright? I’ll be right back.” You pouted out your lips for one last peck but let him go out to the living room while you gingerly got up to put clothes on.

Eddie was spreading a blanket over the couch when Gareth finally came out of the bathroom. On the table beside him sat a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and a couple of Tylenol. Sitting down, he patted the space to his left and asked, “You okay? I should’a talked to you both more before I dove into all that, I’m sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize–” He took a much-needed drink of water and shook his head. “Trust me, I-I had…I had a great time. And I won’t make things weird, or like– tell anybody, I swear. I’m sure it’ll all be fuzzy in the morning anyway. Did you guys…?” 

“We had fun, man, don’t sweat it.”

“Oh, we definitely had fun,” You agreed as you joined them. You settled on Gareth’s other side, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Thanks for being so cool about everything, I don’t think we could’ve trusted the other guys with something like this.”

“Well, thank you for trusting me,” He answered gratefully. 

“My right-hand man,” Eddie reminded him as he stood, clapping a hand over his shoulder. 

You playfully rolled your eyes at the sentiment, but kept a good-natured smile as you leaned over to peck the boy’s cheek. “Get some sleep, alright? Sweet dreams, Gare.”

As if anything could be sweeter than the taste of the two of you still lingering on his tongue when he closed his eyes and drifted off.

part two

<3

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[kennahjune]

No Upside Down steddie AU where Steve gradually meets the members of Hellfire (-Eddie) in and out of school and they all come to befriending him really fast because “Steve Harrington is actually a good dude”

But Eddie fucking hates it.

And this only spurs Hellfire on because they think him getting mad over Steve Harrington is fucking hilarious.

Jeff who takes a foods class in third period and Steve does to and then the teacher pairs them for a baking project and Jeff gets to go to Casa Harrington. And he realizes rather quickly that Steve really likes baking and cooking and actually knows what he’s doing and that he’s not just taking the class for an easy A.

Brian (I’ve named him Brian, yes), meets Steve in Art class. Like Jeff, he thought Steve was taking it for an easy A but when seats are changed and they sit together he realizes that, no, Steve’s actually kind of good at drawing (particularly scenery). They get to talking about one of Steve’s sketches and the rest is history.

Gareth doesn’t officially meet Steve until later, but he does see him out with the kids at the arcade. Gareth works at the arcade and there’s this particular group of kids that just irks him— turns out they’re Steve’s gaggle. He watches in begrudging amusement while Steve rounds them up like a pro.

Then Gareth officially meets him after Hellfire one day. It’s fucking windy and he’s just leaving to school to go home when the papers and sheets he was holding are fucking torn from his hands. Steve grabs the papers— there after some kind of sports practice— and makes sure Gareth has them secured in his bad before leaving with a dorky finger-waggle wave.

And Eddie just downright refuses.

And then the school year ends and Steve graduates. And he’s convinced he doesn’t have to see Steve again.

Until, of course, Mike Dustin and Lucas join.

Jeff, Gareth, and Brian are all ecstatic to share their own run-ins of Steve Harrington to the three boys who so clearly idolize him. Gareth happily recalls how Steve “tamed” them in the arcade every time he came in.

Eddie sits in brooding silence.

And then Lucas joins the basketball team. And sure— Jeff’s on the volleyball team— but basketball jocks are so much worse than volleyball jocks.

Mike and Dustin, however thrown out of orbit they were at first, seem to settle in eventually and learn to plan around it. They think that anything that makes Lucas happy is a good thing (even if it did take a bit of a talk with Will for them to realize).

But Eddie? Eddie can’t stand it.

Which is why he refuses to move the date for the final campaign.

But Eddie doesn’t even get to introduce Vecna before Steve Harrington himself is all but breaking down the fucking door.

Eddie has this whole argument in his head that quickly dwindles when he sees the pure anger in Steve’s eyes (and also because Steve is really fucking pretty holy shit).

Steve tells Dustin Mike and Erica to pack up and get to the game before he drags them and you know what?

They listen.

Including hard ass Erica Sinclair.

And then idk Steve and Eddie get into a whole fight about.

But Steve makes it very clear that he doesn’t appreciate Eddie making Lucas feel like he can’t be happy doing DnD and basketball because that poor boy deserves nice things dammit.

And Eddie sleeps on it over the weekend before hunting Lucas down first thing Monday morning to apologize.

Lucas forgive Eddie (against Eddie’s protest because let the man grovel) but makes Eddie also apologize to Steve.

Which Eddie does by showing up to the Harrington Estate.

Eddie apologizes and they get high together and the rest is history.

.

I might actually make this into something, it’s already pretty fleshed out but eh

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

[plistommy]

Gareth: So, what do you think? What’s your type?

Eddie: Fat ass, big tits, nice cock and killer legs that can wrap around your waist when you fuck ’em. A pretty face too, with nice lips and big brown eyes…

Gareth:

Gareth: I meant the fucking sketches I made for the bands logo, Eddie!

Eddie: Well shit, man! You need to be more specific.

Gareth: *holding the sketches in front of Eddie’s face*

Gareth:

Gareth: I hate you.

[punkrockmlchael]

Eddie Munson who is a badass until you ask him to kill a spider.

“What are you doing?” He’d ask, standing in the doorway of the bathroom while you’re standing on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the floor.

“There’s a spider, it’s big and hairy. please, kill it,” you’d whine, looking at him as the spider crawled around more and more.

“So am i but you don’t seem to want me killed,” he’d smirk, cocky ass grin on his face as you rolled your eyes. “Where is it?”

You’d point to the giant spider crawling around the floor, Eddie’s eyes meeting the little black ball of fuzz that was crawling around the floor.

A scream would leave his mouth as he would jump up next to you on the bathtub, wrapping his arms around you. “No, fuck that; you kill him. you found him, right? So you get to kill him.”

“No! I’m not touching that thing,” you’d complain, watching it continue to crawl around. Eddie would stare at the spider with wide eyes, watching it come closer and closer.

“My god, it’s coming closer. It must smell fear,” Eddie would comment, shuddering in his spot.

“Eddie, please, what happened to my big strong boyfriend?” You’d ask, looking at him.

“He’s not that big and strong when there’s a fucking tarantula in his bathroom. Oh, my god. Burn the house down; it’s his now, we’re moving out.”

And after hours of bickering back and forth with Eddie, continuously watching the spider crawl around the floor, Gareth shows up at your house for a movie night. He walks towards the bathroom and stops in his tracks when he sees you and Eddie standing on the edge of the bathtub arguing.

“…What are you two doing?” Gareth would ask, raising an eyebrow.

And both you and Eddie would point to the spider and yell “kill it!” at the same time.

And once Gareth sees what you’re pointing at he’d giggle, “it’s just a little spider, guys, fucking chill,” and he’d lean down and grab the spider and pick it up in his hands and walk towards the door with it to let it live and be free in the wild and you and Eddie are sighing and stepping down from the bathtub as you watch Gareth walk away with the spider.

“That’s messed up, i can’t believe i used to have a crush on him,” you’d comment, watching him walk away before Eddie would nod and reply with a,

“Yeah, me neither. What did I ever see in him?” Which would leave you staring at your boyfriend with a raised eyebrow and a look of shock on your face.

“…What?”

“Yeah, i don’t know either, maybe it’s the hair,” Eddie would reply, stepping out of the bathroom as he walked towards the living room, leaving you alone in the bathroom.

“…What?!”

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Worst Case Scenario

Summary- Gareth wants the chance to talk to you so badly, but seeing how you react to other guys approaching you only makes him more and more nervous…

Genre- Fluff

Warnings- None c:

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @aidansloth @esme-viridian @morganwrites12672

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

Word Count- 3.7k

“Just go up and ask!” Jeff urged Gareth as the four of them sat at a table a few rows in front of you at the library.

“I can’t!” Gareth whispered, “What if she says no?”

“What if she says yes?” Grant said, trying to push Gareth into finally being able to ask you out.

It had been months since he gained this little crush on you, and it was growing to the point of agony for him. Sneaking glances at you from across the classroom, tripping himself up in the halls from watching you walk past, and your sweet demeanor definitely wasn’t helping much.

You were so smart, so kind, and though you had barely spoken to one another aside from an occasional ‘hi’ in the halls he could tell that you were someone genuine. But seeing all the other guys get rejected day after day didn’t make him feel any better about his crush on you.

He’d seen guys approach you in class, in the halls, during lunch. At least one guy a week had the balls to ask you out on a date, and though you had always appreciated their offers, you turned down every single one. And Gareth knew he would probably just be another one of those guys you rejected.

“Stop overthinking it.” Eddie said, “If she says yes, good. If she says no, then you have your answer. Simple as that.”

Gareth knew Eddie was right. He shouldn’t pry you with things like this, and he knew that if he got another rejection he could take it well. Sure, it may hurt at first, but he’s been through it before and he can do it again. He was about to stand up and finally do it, but he stopped as he watched one of the seniors approach your table.

The boys kept themselves quiet, trying their best to hear the interaction that was about to take place. And it seemed like a few of the boys at the tables around you were doing the same thing.

Daniel McNeal was a senior, decently attractive, smart, and was quite gifted when it came to managing a schedule filled with work, school, sports, and a handful of extracurriculars to really spice up his college applications. Gareth knew now he wouldn’t stand a chance after him.

He and the boys sat back and carefully watched your interaction.

As Daniel approached your table, your head tilted up from your notebook and gave him a polite smile as he looked down to you, moving your attention quickly back into your notes.

“Hey.” He said with a smile, getting your attention once more.

You looked up once again and gave him another smile,

“Hi.”

“You’re (y/n), right?”

“Yep.” You’re went back to scribbling down a few points from your textbook, “That’s me. Why?”

“You know, i always saw glances of you in the halls,” He helped himself to the seat across from you at your table, “I just never expected you to be this pretty up close.”

You kept a kind smile on your face and let out a slow sigh, knowing exactly what was about to play out. It’s happened too many times before. You set your pencil down onto your notebook and closed it, folding your arms over it and looking up to him,

“Go on.” What you were saying would normally sound so shallow, and yet there was something about the way you said it that made it sound so syrupy sweet. No matter how humiliated all those rejected boys felt beforehand, you never made them feel bad for asking.

Daniel shot you a strange look,

“What do you mean?”

“Ask me out. I assume that’s what you came over here to talk to me about, but if it’s not then i apologize. I think i’ve been in this situation so many times things like this just come natural to me.” You giggled, making him smile.

“Pretty and smart. You’re the whole package, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so.” You shrugged.

Daniel leaned forward into the table, talking softly to you with a cocky smile on his face, thinking he’s already got you wrapped around his finger,

“Well, what do you say? You, me, saturday night, i was thinking the drive in but if that’s not your style i’d be happy to take you to dinner.”

“No thanks.” You smiled still, pulling your arms away from over your notebook before opening it back up and moving your attention back to your textbook.

Daniel gave you another confused look,

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean ‘no’ as in, ‘no, i don’t want to go out with you’. But i appreciate the offer!”

Your sweet demeanor was confusing given your answer, and Daniel was at a loss for words. He had never been rejected by a girl before, and he certainly didn’t expect you to be the first to do it. He figured with his good looks and charm he would be the one to finally break your streak of rejections, but you proved him wrong.

He watched as you happily went back to your notes, and leaned across the table to get a bit closer to you, talking in a whisper,

“Did i do something wrong?” He asked with a nervous chuckle.

“No.” You looked up to him from your notes, “It’s nothing you did. I’m not denying that you’re an attractive guy, and you seem very nice, but i’m just not interested.” You flashed him a smile and looked down back to your notes, scribbling away and leaving Daniel confused as he sat across from you.

After a few moments of silence, Daniel stood up from the chair across from you, and as he stepped away from the table you gave him one last smile before moving back to your notes. The boys were sat at their table, slack jawed after watching that scene unfold in front of them and the handful of other students sat at the tables around you.

“So she’s never going to say yes to me.” Gareth shrugged, giving up any attempts he had thought of to try and get your attention, but after watching you reject yet another guy he had no intentions of letting himself risk getting rejected.

“Stop being a pussy!” Jeff whispered through his teeth.

“Enough with that!” Gareth whispered back, quickly glancing back at you once more, watching as you continued on with your note taking, looking so peaceful as you did so, “I’ll ask… I just don’t know if i should do it now.”

“Fine then, that means she’s up for grabs.” Eddie shrugged as he sat back in his seat.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you can’t get all pissy if some other guy asks her out and she says yes. Just rip the bandaid off and do it!”

Gareth put his head in his hands and sighed, knowing that Eddie was right,

“You’re right. Fuck it.”

Gareth took one last deep breath and glanced over his shoulder at you, deeply focused on your textbook, tapping the eraser at the end of your pencil on the pages of your notebook. It was now or never.

Without another word he stood up and slowly stepped toward your table, his palms already feeling damp just from taking a few steps closer to you. He kept his breathing slow, the constant reminder in the back of his head telling himself that the worst thing that could come of this would be you saying ‘no’. Rejection wouldn’t be anything new for him, so why did it feel so different with you.

When you glanced up and met his gaze with a little smile his heart stopped, along with his feet.

You quickly looked him over, a smile still on your lips as you noticed he stopped before you,

“Hi?” You said with a little giggle.

“Hi.” Gareth said as he snapped out of his little trance, still doing his best to stay calm. But you could see that he was still a bit nervous.

“Your name’s Gareth, right?” You asked him as he stood before you, holding back a little giggle as he nodded, still standing before you. “Do you want to sit down?” You asked him, motioning your pencil to the chair across from you.

“Yeah,” He laughed to himself, clearing his throat and pulling out the chair across from you, “thanks.”

You kept a sweet smile on your lips as you went back to your notes, Gareth watching you happily scribble along the pale blue lines in your notebook. He couldn’t just sit across from you in silence.

“What class is that for?” He asked as he tried to glance into the textbook you were writing from.

“History.” You set your pencil down onto your notebook and closed it, your arms crossed over the notebook as you looked at Gareth with bright eyes, “I’ve never been that great at History so i always like to study up on it a bit more.”

“Makes sense,” Gareth smiled and shrugged, “I’m the same way with Algebra, i just can’t get that stuff down.”

You giggled as you saw him smile, and you noticed a little bit of pink on his cheeks as he heard it. It was quite cute.

“So what brought you over here to me? Aren’t you sitting over there with your friends?” You asked him, making him blush deeper with embarrassment, not knowing you had noticed he and the guys had been sitting there.

“I was.” He started, clearing his throat and doing his best to not make direct eye contact. He knew that would only make him blush worse.

“But, i saw you were sitting alone and thought maybe you’d like some company? I know you’re probably studying or something but I’m pretty good at history, i’d be glad to help if you need any.”

“You know, now that you mentioned it,” You smiled, sliding the textbook you were reading from over between the two of you, “I am having a little trouble remembering some of these dates, do you think you can help me?”

Gareth looked up with bright eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips,

“Yeah!” He quickly hushed himself, clearing his throat as he remembered you were sitting in the library, “Which ones did you need help with?”

“Um, the ones on…” You sat up slightly flipping a few pages back to find the timeline, “this page. I don’t know why, i just can’t seem to get all these dates correctly, i think because everything happened so quickly in World War 1 that i can’t seem to remember which event happened on which day.”

Gareth nodded as you explained your trouble to him, but he tended up once more as he saw you shift in your seat.

“Here, i think it’ll be easier if i came over there.”

You slid the book over to him and stood up from your chair, walking around behind him and sitting in the seat next to his. You could still see a little pink on his cheeks as you smiled to him, moving your chair a bit closer to his.

The boys tried to keep their glances over at the two of you hidden, but as soon as they saw you move closer to Gareth they couldn’t help but stare.

“She got closer to him…” Jeff whispered.

“No, i can see that, but why?” Grant whispered back.

“I can’t tell what they’re talking about,” Eddie started, watching the two of you from across the room, seeing your eyes light up a little as Gareth was pointing out something on the pages of the textbook you’d been reading from, “I mean it looks like they’re just talking about school stuff but who knows…”

They saw a few giggles from you and a nervous laugh from Gareth and only got more excited for him. Giggles were always a good sign.

“You really make all this seem so easy.” You said to Gareth as you looked up from the textbook.

“Really? I don’t know, i guess this stuff always just made sense to me.” He flashed a smile as he looked to you too, and he has finally felt himself comfortable enough to ask you what he’d been dying to ask all this time.

Unfortunately he didn’t plan for the bell to ring as soon as he parted his lips to speak.

“I should get to class,” You said apologetically, carefully shutting the text book in front of you, standing up from your chair, “I want to make sure all that stuff stays fresh in my brain for this quiz. Thanks again for your help,” You placed your hand onto his forearm and gave it a little squeeze, “i really do appreciate it. Now i know exactly who to come to when i’m having a little trouble with history.”

Gareth couldn’t help but smile as he stood with you, mustering out a quiet, “No Problem, anytime.” As he saw you walk to the other side of the table and pack up your backpack.

He glanced back at the guys, who were urging him to grow a pair and ask, not even noticing that you had stepped around him to make your way to your class.

“(y/n).” He said suddenly, even catching himself off guard as you turned back to him.

“Yeah?” You asked, a sweet smile on your lips as you took a few steps back towards him.

“Um…” He cleared his throat, not sure how to start as his eyes darted all over the room, “You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, but i think you’re a really interesting person, and if you weren’t doing anything this weekend i wanted to know if maybe you’d like to do something with me?”

“You mean like a date?”

He felt a blush rise to his cheeks again as he nodded.

“I’d love to!”

His eyes went wide, and he could tell that the other students around you turned in shock.

Out of everyone that had asked to take you out in school you had never taken anyone up on their offer, no matter who was asking or where they were taking you. Just to see that Gareth was the one who had somehow gotten you to say yes was a shock to everyone around you, including himself. This would no doubt be the gossip that ran through all the cliques at school for the next week.

“Really?” He asked quietly, still in shock.

You giggled and nodded,

“Really. It sounds like fun! Here,” You reached into your bag, grabbing a piece of stray paper and a pen from the side pocket, scribbling your name and number down onto it for him with a little heart in the corner, “call me later tonight and we’ll plan something.”

He was speechless.

He stood there for a moment, looking down at the little piece of paper in his hands, and he was hoping to god that this wasn’t just some joke. He snapped from his trance as he felt a hand slap down onto his shoulder, and as he looked up he saw the guys in front of him, wide eyed and just as shocked as he was.

“Is that her number?” Jeff asked him, snatching the piece of paper from Gareths hands as he continued watching you slowly step away.

“It is!” Grant exclaimed as he saw your handwriting, “Damn, i think this is the only time i’ve heard of her giving anyone her number, let alone say ‘yes’ to a date with anyone.”

“Yeah, and that ‘anyone’ is you!” Eddie smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Good for you bud.”

Gareth felt like he should’ve been basking in his glory. He was the only guy that had ever gotten further than just a conversation and then a rejection with you. Out of every other guy that had tried their chance with you, soccer and basketball players, some of the smartest guys in school, even the class president tried his hand at you at one point or another and yet you chose him. He needed to know why.

Without saying a word to the guys he pushed past them, following behind you to try and catch you before you had made it to your next class. Thank god he could see your hair swaying behind you in the halls. He picked up his pace, dodging past the other students making their way to their classes before finally catching up and giving you a quick tap on the arm. You turned to him with a smile and a confused look,

“Hey, is everything ok?”

“Why did you say yes?” Gareth asked quickly as he tried to catch his breath, his nerves had left him entirely and were replaced with confusion.

“What do you mean?” You asked, quickly moving yourselves against the lockers to keep out of the way of the traffic of the other students.

“I’ve seen guys come up to you and ask you out countless times, not once have you ever said yes to any of them. But you said yes to me when i asked you.”

“I did.” You confirmed for him with a giggle, “So what’s all the confusion about?”

“I just…” He sighed and looked at the tile floor between the two of you, trying hard to not let himself get embarrassed and red faced again, “I’ve seen the kind of guys that have approached you before. You know, the smart guys and the popular guys, people that actually seem to mean something to the other people that go to this school. Im a nobody…”

Your lips curled into a sweet smile once again and you placed your hand to his cheek, gently guiding his eyes back to look into yours,

“You’re not a nobody. Just because you’re not super smart or popular doesn’t mean you’re a nobody. I think you’re a really cool person actually.”

Gareths eyes lit up and a small smile was brought to his lips.

“I think you’re very sweet, and you’re smart, and funny, and i think compared to most of the other guys that’ve asked me out you’re the one with the most personality.”

You shared a chuckle with him and saw a light pink on his cheeks once again as he tried to look away.

“You really want to know why i said yes?”

Gareth nodded slowly.

You giggled again and did your best to hide your own blush,

“Because you were nervous to talk to me. All the other guys had this arrogance to them, and i know the only reason most of them asked me was so they could add on another thing to their list of trophies. They asked me just because they wanted to see if i would actually say yes, but you asked me because you liked me. i could tell that you liked me.”

The other students had started to disappear from the halls into their classes, leaving the two of you almost entirely alone.

“Really?” He asked you quietly, “I thought girls didn’t like guys that got nervous like that.”

Another quick giggle left your lips,

“Well, i like guys that get nervous around me.” You leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Remember to call me later, ok? And tell your friends i said ‘hi’.” You motioned behind him and started to step away, and as Gareth turned he could see the guys standing slack jawed behind him.

He turned back but saw that you had already began your walk to class, giving him a little wave as you entered your classroom.

The boys quickly caught up to Gareth and did their best to walk through the halls to get to their own classes, but what they just witnessed would be on their minds for the rest of the day.

“What was that?” Grant asked him as they made their way down the opposite end of the hall, “Did she just kiss you?”

“On the cheek.” Gareth shrugged.

“So she did?” Jeff smiled, “Do you know what this means for you?”

“No?…” He thought to himself for a moment, “Should i?”

“It means that you hold more power than any other guy here. You not only got (y/n) to go out with you but you also got her number-“

“Oh yeah,” Gareth remembered leaving before grabbing that little slip of paper they took from him, “which one of you still has that?”

Grant reached into his jacket pocket and handed it over to Gareth,

“We didn’t copy it down or anything, this is all yours. We wouldn’t want to ruin your chances or anything.”

“Thanks.” Gareth looked down at the little scribble of your name and number on the little piece of paper in his hands, “And i didn’t make her do anything.” He said to Jeff, “I guess things just worked out right and she decided to say yes.”

“Well, how do you feel? You just got the most sought after girl in school to go out with you, you don’t seem too excited about it.” Eddie asked him with a chuckle.

“Good!” Gareth said with a big smile on his face, “Trust me, i’m over the moon about this, it just feels… strange? But i don’t know if that’s the right word.”

The class bell rung through the halls, and the boys said their quick goodbyes before running off to their classes.

“Tell us how it goes later!” Grant said as he ran down the opposite end of the hall.

“Don’t fuck this up!” Jeff laughed as he quickly stepped down the hall.

“Good job Romeo, but he’s right, don’t fuck this up.” Eddie gave him one last pat on the shoulder before slowly moving down the hall, and as Gareth watched the guys slowly disappear down the halls, he took one last look at the piece of paper in his hand.

He smiled to himself as he neatly folded the paper and carefully slipped it into his pocket, strolling slowly towards his classroom.

He didn’t care if he was late or not. Knowing that him just being him was enough for you to like him made him feel like nothing else that day could drag him down.

He couldn’t wait to get home.

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER TEN: RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

DID YOU EVER HEAR ABOUT THE GIRL WHO GOT FROZEN? TIME WENT ON FOR EVERYBODY ELSE - SHE WON'T KNOW IT.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.9K+

☆ A/N: lyrics used towards end of the chapter belong to the following sleep token songs (in order of appearance) - chokehold, ascensionism, and take me back to eden. 10/10 recommends listening to them <3

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

When you wake up, you’re shocked to find cold sheets beside you. 

Your hand stretches out on instinct, joints cracking as you barely slip into consciousness, and it’s the one thing capable of jolting you awake. These aren’t your sheets (they’re too nice to be your sheets), this isn’t your bed (there’s a cologne across the fabric that no longer stains your own mattress), and the bed is cold. Not even whispering of the warmth of who should be in bed with you, no trace of him having been tangled up with you the entire night to be found. 

Eddie had been here. You know he had been here. Last night couldn’t have possibly been a dream, or a hallucination, or some cruel twisting of reality done by your brain out of the terrible yearning that is bubbling back up to the surface of your chest. 

He had been here. And now, he’s gone. 

It reminds you too much of those mornings you’d awake while he was on tour. The mornings you’d roll over in a shared bed, only to find the other owner was still a country away. Mornings where you took your coffee cold and alone, and took your updates from some online source posting blurry photographs of the man you were waiting up on rather than from his own two lips. 

Bile almost rises in your throat until you properly sit up, and you properly remember. 

Eddie. Kisses. His guitar. His song. Whispered falsetto of taking aim, painful words about the way love is a weapon. 

You weren’t stupid. You weren’t dense. And Eddie Munson was a rockstar, not an actor. 

The room is still dreary, faintly lit with the wisps of daylight peering through the curtains over the window. You can’t tell if it’s stormy out, or it’s early out, but neither really matters. Neither really explains why you’ve woken up in a bed alone, after a night of playing pretend. 

Eddie’s lips, trailing down your skin. Eddie’s hands, bruising your hips and holding you to him in all the ways you begged him to. Eddie’s legs, entangling with yours beneath sheets he used to not be able to afford and blankets that kept the rest of the world as far away from the two of you as possible through the night. 

You swear, for just a moment, your back is still warm with the imprint of his chest curling against you. 

With every movement you make, you wait for Eddie to magically appear out of thin air. To jump up in front of you, to smile at you with that toothy grin and greet you with some ridiculous good morning. You keep waiting as you kick off the covers, and as your feet meet his cold floors, and as you make your way to the unfamiliar bathroom attached to the bedroom. 

Waiting, waiting, waiting. 

You sort of fucking hate waiting. Especially when it came to Eddie.

There’s no sign of him in the apartment. It becomes clear once you’ve brushed your teeth, almost hesitating to use the toothbrush available until you realize how ridiculous that would be. He had his tongue down your throat last night, amongst other places – he could bare for you to borrow his toothbrush just this once. You make your way out of the room, down the hallway, to the kitchen. 

Nothing. No Eddie. No breakfast. No reminders to call Matt and no ambulances on speed dial. 

You feel like a fool. 

“Talk about karma, hm?” you mumble to yourself as you lean against his kitchen island, staring at the fridge, weighing your choices. 

You could stay, make yourself breakfast, enjoy the luxuries at your disposal. 

Or you could leave. You could get out now while he’s not here to stop you, erase the night from your skin and memory. There’s still time to pretend that none of it ever happened. There’s still time to scrub the stain he’s once again left across not just your skin, not just your mind, but your entire existence. A newly reopened wound, and you still had time to make amends and stitch it right back up. No blood stains necessary this time around. And things were always easier the second time around, right? 

Wrong. 

Something keeps you rooted in spot. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, wrapping its way up around your bones. Maybe it's the wishful thinking, the smallest of hopes that Eddie will eventually burst through the front door and wash away the doubts. 

Or maybe it’s the post-it note that you’d initially missed, barely clinging to the surface of the fridge as it leaves behind a sticky residue. 

Went to the studio, I’m in trouble with Matt :( Help yourself to anything in the apartment. If you leave, just make sure to lock up behind you. I’ll text once I’m done. 

It’s written in messy penmanship, the font of someone in a rush. The phrase ‘if you leave’ is only slightly neater, as if written slowly and given more thought than anything else said. 

As if Eddie might have hesitated, for just a moment, at the thought of you leaving once more. 

You’re probably imagining things. You’re probably making up that difference in your mind, projecting onto what you want him to feel so desperately. It shouldn’t make a difference in if you stay or if you go. It shouldn’t. 

And yet, it does. 

The hours pass by slowly. Morning bleeds into the afternoon as you keep yourself entertained and take Eddie’s encouragement in full stride; you make yourself a decent enough breakfast from what food he does have in the fridge, and you almost make a note of scolding him for having little to nothing in there. But then you remember that it isn’t your place anymore, and your toast is nearly burning, and so the mental note of any slaps on the wrist is pushed away. You wander about the living room, taking in what photos he does have displayed. There’s not much – a few awards, some nice recounts of the band’s successes, but nothing that is Eddie. No photos of Hawkins. No photos of friends. No photos of Wayne. You hadn’t realized just how empty, how vacant, the place had felt until you properly inspected it all. 

There’s only one trace left behind of Eddie. The man you once knew and loved, not Eddie the Rockstar. Eddie, the caring best friend. Eddie, the doting boyfriend. Eddie, the one you’d once spent all your days weaving a future with, threads intertwined and dreams perfectly aligned. 

A single photograph of just him and Gareth. Or at least, what’s been framed to appear to be of just him and Gareth. 

Eddie, front and center. Gareth to his left. At a quick glance, it seems like one more homage to the band, maybe even to his friends. 

It’s more than that, though.

Your hands can’t work fast enough as they grab the frame, not even thinking clearly about how Eddie might feel if you rip the back off the nice piece of memoriam. Your heart is racing out your chest, breaths starting to come out in harsher and harsher puffs as you struggle to flip the clips and remove the backing cardboard. 

You find exactly what you knew you’d find. Exactly what you’d dreaded you’d find. 

Yourself, staring back at you. 

Creased over so purposefully, the section of the photo containing you has been prestigiously folded to appear as though you’d never existed. You, with a fool’s grin and eyes squinted out of appearance. You, hand on Eddie’s shoulder as you’d lifted yourself up dramatically on your tippy toes, body full of pride beyond the point of containment. 

A version of you that you can remember crystal clearly. 

“Wait, wait!” you had squealed, the stick of beer on concrete floors meeting the rubber sole of your shoes audible as you’d ran across the bar, “Don’t you dare take that photo without me, assholes!” 

You’d nearly slipped in a puddle of only God-knows-what as you’d made it to where the boys were gathering, but Eddie’s hands had already been there to catch you before you’d met an untimely demise. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” his face twitched with concern, but his smile wasn’t fading, “Trying to kill yourself there, Sugar?” 

“No, I’m trying to get into the photo with my favorite people,” you’d corrected, looking around Eddie to shoot a smile Gareth’s way, “Gotta make sure they don’t forget me in the history books in ten years, when they put you guys’ into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.” 

Gareth snorted immediately, shaking his head, his own head of curls bouncing with the movement, “Right. I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

Eddie’s hands left your waist, leaving you to bounce on the balls of your feet as you looked back to Jeff still poised with a camera. “Don’t be such a pessimist, Gar.” 

“Don’t call me Gar.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Should I use the full nickname? Would you prefer Gare-Bea-”

“Okay,” Eddie cut you off with impeccable timing, putting his hands out between the two of you, “Can we not kill each other after we’ve just played our biggest show yet?” 

Biggest show yet, indeed. Everyone had come out to show love to the boys you’d been rooting on from the hot floors of garages for several months at that point. More than just a few drunks being forced to listen to the live band playing at their favorite joint, and more than just a few friends who’d spared their evening to show support. 

Everyone was there. The bar had even made an exception for a few of the boys in Eddie’s Hellfire club, and that alone had already gone to Dustin Henderson and Mike Wheeler’s heads. 

“She’s right!” Dustin added without any prompting, standing to the side and looking just as giddy as you did, “You guys are gonna be goddamn rockstars!” 

“Language, Henderson!” Steve Harrington scolded, scowling at the younger boy, “Jesus, we let you guys come to a bar one time to support Eddie, and you immediately start acting up-”

“Can we please just take the photo?” Jeff waved the camera as he looked between you, Eddie, and Gareth, “Please?” 

Surprisingly, every single person listened. 

Gareth resumed his cool-guy position, clearly trying to not show just how excited he was. Arms crossed as he didn’t move any closer to be more fully in the photo, offering the limited effort of leaning in. 

You knew he was just playing it cool. You’d seen the smile light up his face, even behind the drumset, the moment the boys had seen how large of a crowd they’d garnered. 

Dustin jumping up and down beside you, waving his hand, trying to just get a glimpse of his blurry palm in the shot. 

No one could even be mad at him, the air was too thick with excitement. He was only exerting it the way all of you craved to do so badly, guided by his youth and genuine love for his friends – his mentors. 

And then there was you and Eddie. Eddie wasn’t hiding his joy at all, those dimples you so adored in full throttle as he looked at the camera with starry eyes. All that hard work, all those late nights, finally beginning to come to fruition. He didn’t have to say it – you knew. You knew he was beginning to see the shape of a rockstar forming that you’d always been able to view. Seeing himself in the spotlight that you’d always shone on him, blind faith and all. 

He was proud, and you were prouder. 

On your tippy toes, hand curling around Eddie’s shoulder like an anchor as your chin tilted up and your teeth flashed to the camera. You probably looked ridiculous – you felt ridiculous. But there was no time for some elegant pose or faux cool act like Gareth or Jeff. You were bleeding out all your pride and all your happiness, and it was all for the warm body beneath your palm. The boy you’d be holding dearly when it was all said and done at the end of the night, letting him collapse into your solace as he giggled and muttered his disbelief at how well the night went once you were both safely back in his bed. 

“Say cheese!”

Jeff was all but ignored, only Gareth loudly proclaiming the word through gritted teeth. 

You squeezed Eddie’s shoulder a bit tighter, and he smiled a bit wider as you whispered, “I’m so proud of you, Rockstar.”  

You didn’t realize you were crying until the first tear drops onto the photo, narrowly missing your overly exuberant face and landing instead on the back of the part of the photo unseen from this point of view.

The part that was on display. The part that Eddie would let the world see. 

The tears can’t become more; you can’t let them. You weren’t going to break down in sobs in the middle of Eddie’s apartment. Not after the night before, not after what felt like the precipice of progress. Not after the beginning of what felt like a peace offering. 

Closure. You were both so close to closure, and yet had never felt further. 

Instead of putting back the backing of the frame like you should, you pull out the entire photograph, slowly unsticking it from the glass so you can unfold it to witness the entire picture. You thought it might feel wrong to see this version of you standing beside that version of Eddie, but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes the burn of nostalgia worse. 

The night before, Eddie had asked you a question. 

“Do you know how many times I played this moment back over in my head?”

And you didn’t know. You never found out, never bothered to ask him for the answer. But you couldn’t but wonder if he knew how many times you’d played moments like the one in this photograph back, over and over in your mind, until it drove you to madness. Just how many late nights in that lonesome apartment, haunted by the memories, it had finally taken before you’d had no choice but to move. How many breakdowns had been spurred on in public when you’d heard his song playing in a gas station, or you’d seen a magazine that he’d occupied the smallest corner of the cover of. 

How many times, during those moments, you’d thought back to nights like the one in this picture, and wished you could go back. 

Even now, even with progress on the horizon, you want to go back. Everything in you screams for this time rather than the present. You want small crowds in the Hideout and an overly hyper Dustin Henderson to annoy you all. You want Eddie kissing you in the bar’s bathrooms, everything reeking of stale beer, and you want the only interruption to be the others banging on the door to let you know it was time to go, not Eddie’s cell phone ringing with a call from his agent. 

You want, and you want, and you want. 

For an innocence neither of you can return to. For a life both of you left behind in ashes. For a love that had seemed so infinite, not as though it might be a momentary time bomb waiting to blow. 

You want to take past you by the shoulders, and shake her so hard that there’s a chance she’ll listen to you when you demand she just enjoy it.

Enjoy all the late nights spent in diner booths with all the boys, none of them witness to the pathway of a heart that Eddie’s thumb is drawing on top of your hand. Enjoy all the grand firsts, and enjoy how everything feels like the ends and beginnings of your world when you’re that young. Enjoy Eddie while you can, even when he annoys you, even when he finds a way to get perfectly on your very last nerve. Enjoy it. 

Because one day, it would all be gone, and you’d be crying over a photograph in the apartment of the man you once thought you were going to marry. 

Now is the time to stop. Now is the time to put the photo back, gather your things, then leave. Put away the shovel and walk away from the grave of the past. 

You can’t do it. 

It turns into some wild scavenger hunt, lacking in guidelines and etiquette as you search through the rest of the apartment. Not truly snooping, but certainly scouring every corner for any other possible remnants of you. Small markings, brutal stains. Proof you weren’t the only one left maimed at the end of the day. Proof you weren’t the only one stained. 

Nothing else is found, because nothing else in the apartment is seemingly as personal as that one photograph. 

You’d noticed the apartment was barren, but hadn’t taken the time to see just how far the emptiness went. His living room, his kitchen, his bedroom – not a single sign of the Eddie you once knew. Only the new Eddie. The Eddie with awards, with a reputation, with adoring fans. 

The Eddie that you couldn’t tell if you really cared for all that much.

The first sign of life only creeps into your vision when you crack back open that door to his makeshift studio. Guitars he once only spoke of owning, a keyboard that tells you he’d finally taught himself how to play piano rather than only speaking about it as a one-day, notebooks and loose-leaf pages scattered across the coffee table that’s situated in front of the comfortable couch. 

It reminds you of the coffee table back in the Munson trailer. Of his desk, back in Hawkins. 

There’s no sporadic Hellfire campaigns across the pages, though. No small doodles in the corners of the crumbled pages. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you as you take the same seat you’d occupied the night before (or technically, the earlier morning). No guitar fills your lap – only the weight of the first notebook you could get your hands on. He’d told you to help yourself to anything in the apartment, and he’d never said that the studio was explicitly off-limits. 

There’s rings of coffee stains across the front of the notebook, half the pages visibly used from the side while the rest stay pristine and uniform. Before you can overthink it, you’re flipping the cover of the spiral notebook open, holding your breath as you read across the first line of penned words that you find. 

When we were made, it was no accident. 

Lyrics. They’re clearly lyrics. You keep reading, out of order as your eager eyes drink it all in. 

I’d turn my walls to gold to bring you home again.

You turn the page. You refuse to linger. You refuse to over analyze. 

MAKE IT REAL. ‘Cause anything’s better than the way I feel right now. 

The first three words are angry, aggressive, large. Screaming off of the page. And the remaining ones are small, almost cursive as they flow together like a whisper. Like the writer couldn’t handle telling the world something so vulnerable, so loudly as he had his demand.

Below, a phrase takes up an unexpected amount of space, circled around several times, a few stray question marks penned around the edges.

Diamonds in the trees, pentagrams in the night sky.

You recall all of Eddie’s doubt when you’d interrupted him writing a song last night. The muttering to himself, questioning what the words might even mean. It seems that was not an occurrence saved solely for you – it seems, when he’s been left to his own devices, the process always remains. 

You turn the page again. 

This time, you’re met with the largest conglomerates of lyrics yet. Spreading across the available lines preset for him, but also spiraling about the page. Written in the margins, forced to fill the gaps between the lines. There’s a sinking feeling in your gut before you even read the lyrics, based on the title alone – Take Me Back to Eden. 

I dream in phosphoresces, bleed through spaces. See you drifting past the fog.

You’re holding your breath again. 

I’m a winged insect, you’re a funeral pyre. 

Your eyes wander further down the page. 

I need you to see me for what I have become.

The word become is angrily underlined, over and over, until the pen had torn through the page in the slightest. 

Something rises up within you, and in a panic, you jump to the bottom of the page. 

I guess it goes to show, does it not? That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it. 

The first fatal blow – you can practically hear Eddie’s voice singing the line to you. 

And no amount of love will keep it around, if we don’t choose it. 

Another blow. Flashes of simpler times. Times when Eddie was yours, when the world didn’t lay claim to him the same way your own shaking palms would. 

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence. 

It doesn’t matter how small he’s written it. No matter how tiny and insignificant he attempted to make the line, it cuts deeper than any knives that have ever passed through your flesh before. Deeper than the knife of losing him, so terribly slow. Deeper than the knife of hearing Corroded Coffin in public for the first time, playing out of someone’s car on the street as they listened to the Alternative Rock station. Deeper than the knife of burying his mother’s ring at the back of your closet, no longer yours to wear but somehow still yours to keep. Deeper than the knife of seeing him sitting there, in your office, completely unaware for the first time in two years. 

You slam the notebook shut before you can end up bleeding all over the pages, tears gathering once more and wounds all ripped back open mercilessly. 

The glory of innocence. 

All the reels of memories that had hit you as you’d held the photo in the living room come barreling back, striking you down, hitting you exactly where it hurts. 

Because he had felt it too. He had experienced it too. 

The nostalgia, the want for the past, the need to go back in time when things were simple – innocent. When the stakes were low and love was more than just a ghost wandering through your graveyard in passing. 

Self-sought fury. 

All the headlines, all the self-destruction. Every news article that had chipped away at the great Rockstar’s reputation. It hadn’t been the Eddie you’d known, just as you’d immediately thought; it was a new version of him, a new shell of him, seeking out damage wherever his furious hands could grasp it. 

But you’d never self-imploded. You’d never gotten your fury out, never got to kiss strangers in bars or destroy hotel rooms to move past all that you had lost. You’d been sitting in silence, a brewing pique that you’d let fester for far too long. All the hurt, all the fury, all the heartbreak. 

You didn’t have songs to write about all that. You didn’t have notebooks filled to the brim with those emotions. 

All you had was a shovel, and a deep hole inside yourself that you never thought you’d excavate again. Deep, russet brown eyes that had once lit the pavement for your future, now patronizing your past from the grave. 

A grave you hadn’t been digging alone, apparently. Worlds apart, and you two still had been seemingly in sync with the murder of who Eddie Munson once was. 

But the grave is excavated now, and you don’t think too much as you all but sprint out of the room, a clear destination in mind, that damn notebook in hand. 

—

Google is your greatest friend, your greatest tool, in the end. 

You don’t have the right connections at first. No numbers saved in your phone that you could call for the information, no emails beyond Matt to reach out to. And if there’s anything you’ve learned in working in a business where emails were the sole form of communication, it’s that no one would reply to you as quickly as Eddie had been. 

You didn’t have time. So you decided you’d already crossed a line, and you’d scoured the address of the recording studio that Corroded Coffin uses. 

You’d almost lost hope until you’d seen a paparazzi photo of him leaving said studio. Most news outlets had clearly been paid to keep hush about the location, but some were still the scum of the Earth, and some had left behind evidence. It took more effort on your part than expected, and more scrolling through fan forums than you were proud of, but you’d found it. 

You’d found the address where you would find Eddie Munson. 

Hell hath no self-sought fury like a muse scorned, you suppose. 

That’s what had hurt the most. In hindsight, you’d always known he’d write about you one day. He was an artist, and he had always pulled inspiration from his real life experiences. You’d just always been under the assumption that when the day came, the words on the page may be a happier tune. Something softer, something less hurtful. 

He wasn’t even insulting you, but it certainly felt like he was mocking you. 

You’re blinded by pain as you storm through the front door of the surprisingly small studio, finally feeling the need to lash out after two long years. Two long years of silent misery, silent suffering. You’re no longer the same person who had taken the cowardly way out. There is no instinctive running away from this, no gathering up your existence and disappearing from his life. 

This time, you want to fight. You want to scream at him all that you had felt as well. You wanted him to know the damage done, whether it was the right response or not. 

It probably wasn’t. And there was probably something to be said about the fact that this time, you were willing to fight with him over it. 

“Good afternoon, ma’am,” a young receptionist greets you from the front desk, “Do you have an appointment?” 

“Nope.”

She doesn’t deserve your venom, but she’s getting it straight out of your clipped tone regardless. You’re not here to play niceties with her – you’re here to see Eddie. 

She’s clearly taken back from your straight-forward answer, “Oh, I see. Unfortunately, the studio is currently occupied, but we can-”

“I know the studio’s occupied,” you reply blandly, eyes looking for the elevator, “I’m here to see the bastard currently occupying it.” 

“I- excuse me?” 

You spot the elevator, feet working faster than your mouth as you start to walk over to it, “I said, I’m here to see Eddie Munson. I know he’s in the studio currently, I know him-”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“You’re not really in the business of letting me do anything-”

“Ma’am.” 

You hadn’t noticed the security guard until his hand comes down on your shoulder. The receptionist girl is wide-eyed, looking nervous enough that if you weren’t in the middle of your own spiral, you might feel bad. 

“Let go of me,” you shakily demand, standing still under his hold, “I just need to speak with Ed-”

“No one goes in there without permission from the band or their management,” the man gruffly replies. He may have a good foot on you in height, and the stretch of his muscles beneath the plain black t-shirt might be impressive, but you’re almost convinced by the adrenaline racing through your veins that you could take him. One swift kick of the legs, and you could get to the elevator – you could get to Eddie.

Fight with Eddie. Call Eddie out for all the pain he’d let fester within you for far too long. Probably not even realizing you were calling yourself out in the same breath. 

“Then fucking call them,” you snap, reaching up to swat away his hand, “Call them, and tell them my name-”

“We’ve been given strict instructions to not interrupt them-”

“I could give two shits if we’re interrupting!” you finally yell, fulling tearing yourself away from the strange man’s grasp, “Fucking call Eddie, and tell him-”

It’s the sudden call of your name that breaks the tense moment entirely. Not Eddie’s voice, not even Matt’s voice, but a different voice from your past that has hardly changed.

Standing before you is Gareth Emerson, almost looking entertained at the current exchange happening. 

“She’s with us, man,” he chokes out, clearly holding back laughter as he locks eyes with you, “I can take her back up.” 

“Are you sure?” the security guard presses, looking at you with narrowed eyes, “If this is some insane groupie, Matt will kill me if-”

“I’m not a fucking groupie!” 

You have no reason to be so angry, so defensive. But you’re already a wounded animal, and you’re primed to bite at the slightest inconvenience. 

The wounds of the past are gushing, and being reduced to nothing more than an insane groupie is salt in the blood. Callous, burning, hurtful. 

You’re not just a groupie. 

“She’s not a groupie,” Gareth echoes after you, and his words are far more effective. The guard takes a step back, and Gareth finally lets out a snort that he tries to cover with a cough, “C’mon, Hellfire. Let’s take you upstairs before you burn this whole place to the ground.” 

You swallow down any shock at the old nickname, and you rush to join Gareth’s side, being sure to knock an elbow into his side on your way past him. 

“No one even calls me that anymore,” you mutter, still half-angry, guns still ready to begin blazing in Eddie’s direction once he’s in your sight. 

“Maybe that’s because you haven’t been around the only people that did call you that,” he points out, tone entirely unaffected by your elbow.

“You guys didn’t trademark Hellfire.”

“No, but we sure as Hell made a name for it back in Hawkins.” 

You two stop in front of the elevator, and neither of you make a move to press the call button. You’re all deep breaths, trying to settle yourself as Gareth continues to stare at you. 

“You haven’t changed one bit, you know.” 

His words have you looking up sharply, brows crinkling as you let them sink in, “Excuse me?” 

“I thought you might have changed,” he says, face softening, “You know, the years and city changed you or something. But you’re still… still that same girl we knew. All fiery, always ready for a fight.” 

His last sentence is laced with a bit of sarcasm, some light-hearted joking you hadn’t realized you missed until you’re face to face with it. 

You swallow hard, and you know your own face melts to match his, “That… I… I have changed. That guard was just being a dick.” 

“He was doing his job.”

“Yeah, well,” you sigh, feeling the wisps of fury slip out of your grasps. You almost feel like a toddler, prepared to stomp your foot just to emphasize a losing argument. “He should do his job worse.” 

“And you say you’ve changed,” Gareth teases, bumping his shoulder to yours, “Bullshit, Hellfire. You just let the suits at your job get to you. Maybe you should stick around this time, remember who you were.” 

The words shouldn’t make your chest tighten, but they do. 

Who you were.

Leaving behind Eddie meant more than just leaving behind a failed relationship. It meant leaving everyone. And that included Gareth. That included the version of you that you’ve missed so terribly today that you’ve gone grave-digging, pulling back all emotions to the service. It’s not just anger, it’s not just nostalgia. It’s something deeper and something you can’t erase. A stain on the deepest parts of you that you can’t rid yourself of, even if you’d wanted to. 

Neither of you have pressed the elevator button yet. 

It’s impulsive, but there’s a decision to be made that you won’t overthink. You’re brimming with impulsivity anyways, “Give me your phone number.”

“What?” 

“Give me your number,” you repeat yourself, already digging out your cell phone as you balance Eddie’s notebook in your other hand, “And I’ll stick around this time.” 

You don’t necessarily mean it in the same way he implies, but you mean it in the way that counts. 

You hand your phone over to his waiting palm, and for a moment, it feels like a weight has lifted. 

Even if it all burns down with Eddie. Even if you find the closure you’ve been so desperately seeking out with him, it doesn’t mean you have to leave the others behind. People like Gareth, like Grant, like Jeff – there’s still room for them, somewhere in your new life. You had grown up together practically, at least during the years that had counted, and there was no need to erase them from your history. 

You could find a way. You had to find a way. 

Compartmentalize, rationalize. Justifications and explanations were plentiful. You would find a way to meet the you that once existed and the you that was left behind in the rubble, somehow, someway. 

When Gareth hands you back the phone, there’s a smile twitching in the corners of his mouth, “We should meet up for dinner sometime. I know the rest of the guys, Jeff and Grant, they miss you. And we know this killer pizza place.” 

You don’t fight your returning smile, “Yeah. We should. I think I’d really like that.” 

“Right,” he claps, looking around to clearly see if the guard and receptionist are still watching. They’re momentarily distracted, it seems, by some sort of delivery driver, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Our studio’s on the third floor.”

“Wait,” his finger has already jabbed at the call button, the sounds of an elevator creaking on its quick descent to you sounding from behind the metal doors, “Aren’t you coming back up with me?” 

“Oh, God, no,” Gareth’s nose scrunches, and his overgrown hair bounces as he shakes his head, “I think I’ve had just about enough of Eddie for the day. The rest of the guys left about an hour ago, anyways, and I’m guessing you two might want some privacy?” You nod at his questioning tone, “Perfect. Then, in that case – third floor, like I said.”

“Thank you, Gareth,” you blurt out, fighting down all the nostalgia. Part of you is aching – part of you just wants to see the other boys again, no longer needing the fight with Eddie, “I- I missed you guys too, for what it’s worth.” 

“We know,” he jokes back, although there’s something in the way he says it that makes you think that maybe they didn’t know that. He finally glances at the notebook in your hands that you’d nearly forgotten about, lively eyes turned simply sad. “Just go and give him Hell, yeah? You’re not the only one who's lost themselves.” 

There’s no chance to ask what Gareth might mean as a ding sounds and the doors slide open. The boy that you have genuinely and sincerely missed nods his head, signaling for you to get in, and you do just that. Mentally preparing yourself with one last gulp of air, one last look at Gareth, before you ready your boxing gloves once more. 

You’re not the only one who's lost themselves.

The doors slide shut, and you punch the button for the third floor. 

eddie's taglist:@capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo @findmeincorneliastreet

[adm-starblitzsteel-4305]

GODZILLA...

...YOU WONDERFUL BASTARD!!!!!!!!!

[strangermarvelss]

all of the girls you loved before- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.

Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending

Word Count: 4.8k

Request?: No

A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava

The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 

You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.

Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.

You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.

“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.

“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.

“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.

“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?

Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.

“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”

“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”

As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.

“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.

“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.

“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”

You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”

Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 

The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.

“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 

“All good things I hope,” she jokes.

“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?

“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.

As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.

But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.

When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 

Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?

You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.

Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.

“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“

“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”

Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.

“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”

“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.

A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.

“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.

Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.

You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.

“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.

Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 

“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.

—————————————————————————————————————

It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.

Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.

Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.

Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 

Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 

“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”

“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.

“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”

“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 

“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.

“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.

Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.

“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.

You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?

“What?”

“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.

“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.

“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”

“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.

“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”

You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.

“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.

“Hmm?”

“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.

Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”

“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.

Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.

“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.

“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 

“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”

[candyflossfairy]

𝐺𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑜𝑛 — 𝑀𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: Reader x Eddie Munson, Reader x Steve Harrington, Reader x Billy Hargrove, Reader x Jonathan Byers, Reader x Gareth, Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove x Jonathan Byers x Gareth....x Reader 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: Corroded Coffin is an up-and-coming band gaining traction quickly. As the newest member of the band, you don't quite know how things work yet. Through band practices, playing concerts, and living with the band... you quickly find out. 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 18+ only, Fingering, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (p in v, p in a), protected sex (p in v), cream pie, polyamory, threesomes, gang bang, nipple stimulation, cervix stimulation, overstimulation.

Warnings will be updated as chapters are uploaded. Each chapter will have their own set of warnings.

𝟶𝟷. 𝑤𝑎𝑙𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝟶𝟸. 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝘩𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝟶𝟹. 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑣𝑖𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑛 𝟶𝟺. 𝟶𝟻. 𝟶𝟼. 𝟶𝟽. 𝟶𝟾.

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 13: Sex, Drugs & Rock n Roll

Word Count: 1000

Rating: T

Pairing: (All in relationships that are talked about) Eddie x Reader, Jeff x Barb

CW: Language, talk of sex

Summary: The guys make a bet to see who can go the longest without sex

This is for my girls @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @rip-quizilla and @word-wytch. The idea for this fic came from an extremely entertaining conversation about the CC guys’ sex lives 😂

@corrodedcoffinfest

“I could so be high and not have chips.”

Eddie, Jeff, and Frank chuckle, knowing Gareth’s claim is wholly false. 

“I don’t think you could even give up chips sober,” Frank says. 

The four friends are at Jeff’s apartment, getting high while watching Weekend at Bernie’s. 

“What?” Gareth asks, brushing his hands together to get rid of chip dust. “You think I don’t have any willpower?”

“Out of the four of us? You definitely have the least,” Eddie says before taking another drag. 

“That’s bullshit.” 

“Wanna bet?” Jeff asks.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Gareth declares. 

“On who can go the longest without chips?” Jeff laughs. “Dude, you’re the only one who would go into withdrawal. We’d kick your ass.”

“Fine,” Gareth says as he gets off the burgundy couch. He stumbles over to the television and switches it off.

“Hey!”

“What the hell?”

“Dude!”

Gareth’s doing his best to stare them down and Eddie doesn’t have the heart to tell him it’s not working.

“What’s something we all like, huh? Be a real test of willpower?” Gareth asks.

“Music?” Frank suggests.

“Nah, that’s unavoidable. Grocery store? Music. Elevator? Music,” Eddie points out. 

“Oh.” The way Gareth’s eyes light up after he says it makes the guys worried. “I know exactly how we can test who has the best willpower.”

“And what’s that?” Jeff asks.

“I’ll even lay down twenty—no, fifty dollars on this bet,” Gareth says.

“Just tell us,” Eddie whines.

“I wager I can go the longest without having sex,” Gareth says with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Dude, really?” Eddie asks. “You want us to give up sex?”

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” Gareth taunts, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t think you could do it? Don’t have the willpower?”

“No, I just like fucking my girlfriend,” Eddie says with a laugh. 

“I’ll take that action—er, bet,” Jeff says, surprising Eddie.

“What?” Eddie practically shouts.

“I mean,” Jeff starts with a shrug, “it does seem like a fair test. We all live with our girlfriends.”

“I’m in,” Frank says. “Fifty down for me, too.”

“Means it’s just you who’s out, Eddie,” Gareth taunts. “I’m starting to think you're wussing out on us.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and takes another hit. 

“Jesus, fine, I’ll do it. What’re the rules gonna be?”

“Everyone puts fifty in,” Gareth starts.

“And no one tell their girl,” Jeff adds. “This is about our willpower.” 

“Yeah, that’ll be fun.” Frank’s voice drips in sarcasm. “Ally wants to have sex and I reject her.”

“Just pretend to fall asleep on the couch,” Gareth suggests with a shrug.

“You really think you can keep your hands off Annie?” Eddie asks Gareth, an amused smirk on his face.

“No rule about my hands not being on her.”

“Okay, yeah, that should be clarified,” Jeff says. “When we say, ‘no sex,’ what exactly does that entail?” 

Gareth tilts his head from side to side as he thinks about it.

“No vaginal, oral, or anal,” he decides. “No hand jobs. Basically, your girlfriend can’t get you off in any way and you can’t get her off.”

“We’re idiots for doing this,” Eddie complains.

“Feel free to forfeit and be the loser,” Gareth taunts.

“I could use that extra $150 bucks,” Jeff says. “Weren’t you looking for a new guitar, Ed? This would help.”

“Fuck,” Eddie sighs. 

“So, we’re all agreed?” Gareth asks. “Fifty bucks in for each of us. Starting today, we see who can go the longest without sex.”

The three others confirm their assent—and just in time.

The front door to the apartment opens and Barb steps in. 

“Hi, guys,” she greets as she sets a few grocery bags down.

“Hey, Barb,” they hum in unison. 

“What’re you up to?” she asks.

“Watched Weekend at Bernie’s,” Jeff says, pushing himself off the couch to go kiss his girlfriend. 

“Still going to that bar where the manager wants you guys to play? To finalize things?” Barb asks. 

“Yep,” Eddie replies as he stands up.

Gareth looks down at his watch, then says, “If we leave now, we can get pizza first.”

“Yeah, go get pizza,” Barb says, giving Jeff’s arm a loving squeeze. “I’ve got plenty here I can have for dinner. Just have to unpack it first.”

“Let’s get Surfer Boy,” Gareth suggests as he heads for the door.

The guys mumble their agreement and Barb gives them a wave as they head out.

“Have fun, boys.”

A chorus of “bye Barb” echoes before they’re all out and Jeff closes the door behind him. 

Barb unpacks her bags, keeping an ear out for cars leaving the parking lot. This is the second time the slightly open window has been used to Barb’s advantage in the last ten minutes. 

Once all the food is put away and Barb has checked that the guys have left, she shuffles over to the phone on the wall. She dials your number and impatiently waits for you to pick up.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Barb,” she says.

“Oh, hey! What’s up?” you ask.

“I heard our men having an interesting conversation when I got home. I don’t think they realize how loud they talk—or that they had a window open.”

“Oh, God,” you say with a laugh. “What’re they up to now?”

“They’ve made a bet with one another to see who can go the longest without sex,” she says. “And they’re not going to tell us girls about it.”

A giddy gasp comes from the other end of the phone as you think of all the possible ways you could have fun messing with Eddie on this. 

“Oh, Barb,” you croon. “I think we need to call up Ally and Annie and do some lingerie shopping.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Barb confirms. “So happy we’re on the same page of making this bet as hard as possible for them.”

You chuckle.

“I know four women who are suddenly going to become the biggest teases these guys have ever seen.”

[ambrossart]

Out of the Loop

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: 11k warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

On Monday morning, Gareth peddled to school like a man on a mission.

Nothing was getting in his way today, not his mother, who had accidentally washed his Hellfire Club shirt with all his little sister’s dance clothes,

“You know what, honey, I think it looks better this way…”

not his sister, who had been hogging the bathroom all morning because she couldn’t get her hair right,

“Look, you don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. Becca Singer is finalizing her birthday party guest list today. I have to look my best if I wanna make the cut.”

not the weatherman, who was painfully misinformed when he called for clear, sunny skies today…

and certainly not the piece of crap Chevy that just cut him off in the middle of the crosswalk.

Gareth swerved out of the way and kept on peddling. The rain pelted his face in a spray of ice-cold bullets.

Behind him, the driver yelled, “Hey, watch where you’re going, you little shit!”  

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Because Gareth was sitting on a goldmine of information right now. It was truly the scoop of the century. Eddie Munson—that’s right, Eddie “the Freak” Munson—had gone home with somebody after the senior prom.

Who was this mysterious (not to mention incredibly lucky) woman? A curious cheerleader desperate to defy her clique? A rich girl trying to piss off her dad? A shy bookworm who wanted to act out the plot of her favorite romance novel? Who? Who? Gareth’s head was spinning! The question hungrily devoured the rest of his weekend (something Gareth wasn’t too proud to admit, of course, but hey, Sundays were always uneventful days for him). He had to get to school quickly and consult his most trusted sources.

He found Jeff and Grant sitting at their usual table in the cafeteria. Grant was eating the school’s hot breakfast while Jeff sat with his head in his hands, lamenting the sorry state of his love life.

“Tara’s still not talking to me. I’m pretty sure she’s gonna dump me for Patrick McKinney.”

Grant put down his fork. “Wait, you two were dating?”

“No…” Jeff heaved a quiet sigh. “But if we were, she’d definitely dump me for Patrick.”

Grant frowned, sympathetic yet envious of his friend’s plight. “Man, I wish Meg would stop talking to me. She had me on the phone all night yesterday. I think she wants me to be her boyfriend or something.” Grant cringed at the thought. He didn’t have the strength to put up with her. He’d barely survived prom. 

“You don’t like her?” Jeff asked.

“Not really,” Grant answered. “I mean, yeah, she’s pretty and all, but as soon as she starts talking—”

Gareth slammed a wrinkled piece of notebook paper onto the table. The loud bang echoed through the entire cafeteria, making a few students gasp and flinch in their chairs. Jeff and Grant didn’t move in the slightest. This was typical Monday morning behavior for Gareth.

“What’s with the pink shirt?” Grant asked, unfazed. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Gareth said. They had more pressing matters to discuss. He sat down and folded his hands in front of him, his blue eyes clear and focused. He wasted no time getting straight to the point: “Who’d Eddie go home with after prom?”

Jeff and Grant exchanged a subtle, secret glance.

“How do you know Eddie went home with someone after prom?” Jeff asked.

“Because I called him that night.”

“Why’d you call him?”

“Because I’m a good friend, unlike some people.” Nobody had called him asking how his night went. Gareth sat home alone on Saturday night, eating popcorn and watching old sci-fi movies in his basement, while the rest of his friends had a blast at prom. It wasn’t fair. “I wanted to check in on him because I figured he might be a little depressed after getting rejected by Chrissy. Because let’s be honest here, there was no way that Chrissy was ever gonna dance with him. You all agree with me, right? I’m not just being a dick here. Like, yeah, I know Eddie’s riding high right now because he thinks this year is his year and everything, but… yeah, he was aiming a bit too high with that goal.” 

“Can you get to the point, please?” Grant said. “My breakfast is getting cold.” 

“Well, multitask, man!” Gareth grabbed Grant’s fork and threw it back onto his tray. “What, you can’t listen and eat at the same time?”

Grant rolled his eyes and went back to his breakfast. Gareth carried on with his story:

“So anyway, when I called him on Saturday, I expected him to sound all mopey and depressed, but he wasn’t. Yeah, Eddie wasn’t depressed at all. In fact, he sounded oddly… happy, but also a little bit distracted. You guys see where I’m going with this, right?”

“I hate that I do,” Grant said, struggling to enjoy his food.

“Well, that’s when I started getting suspicious. See, I could tell I didn’t have his full attention, and that’s just so unlike Eddie because he’s normally really good at maintaining proper phone etiquette. Weird, right? So then I got curious and I started listening, and… and I can’t be sure, but I think I heard a girl talking in the background.”

“Maybe it was just the TV,” Grant said.

Gareth shook his head. “No way… I know the difference between a TV voice and a live human voice. Someone was definitely with him.”

“Well, did you recognize the voice?” Jeff asked.

“No, I couldn’t hear well enough.”

Grant’s eyes narrowed. “And yet you’re sure it wasn’t the TV…”

“Oh come on, it wasn’t the TV, you guys. Wake up and smell the coffee! Eddie brought a girl to his house. He brought a girl to his house. She was with him in the room while he was on the phone with me. I could hear her talking. Then Eddie started acting really weird, said he had to go, and rushed me off the phone.”

“Gross,” Grant muttered, sickened. “Yeah, these are details I did not need.” 

Gareth’s mouth fell open in a silent gasp. “Wait, do you guys think he slept with her?” and that was more than Jeff could handle.

He buried his face in his hands and said, “Please stop. I don’t wanna go to class with these images in my head.”

Grant shrugged. “Maybe it was just a one-night stand.”

Jeff threw him a sharp, side-eyed glare. 

“Just saying,” Grant finished, smirking.

“No, I seriously doubt it,” Gareth went on, completely unaware. “Eddie’s not really a one-night stand kinda guy… not by choice, anyway. No, I think this might be the real deal, you guys, ‘cause listen to this: I went to go see him yesterday. Eddie wasn’t home.”

“So?”

“So I think he was with her. I called him last night and asked him where he was all day. He said he was out running errands.” Gareth scrunched up his face at that, doubtful. “Since when does Eddie run errands? So I said, ‘What sort of errands were you running?’ He said he had to swing by the drugstore. I said, ‘Well, what did you need at the drugstore?’ but he wouldn’t answer that. Yeah, he was being awfully mum.”

“Mum?” Jeff repeated to himself, mystified by his friend’s bizarre word choice.

Grant said, “He was probably annoyed that you were digging around in his business. I know I would be.”

“Oh yeah, he was definitely getting annoyed,” Gareth said. “Then he cut the conversation short and told me he was stepping out for the night. That’s when I knew this was serious. Eddie doesn’t just ‘step out’ on a Sunday night. He hardly goes out any night. If he’s not with us, he’s sitting at home and playing songs on his guitar. Yeah, he was definitely with her last night.”

Grant sighed, hoping they’d finally reached the end of this long-winded story. “Well, I guess you cracked the case then, Gareth.”

“But that’s just it, I haven’t!” Gareth said. Grant let out an exhausted moan. “I still don’t know who this girl is. You guys swear you didn’t see Eddie go home with anybody after prom?”

Another secret glance.

“Nope,” Jeff said. “I didn’t see him go home with anyone that night.”

Gareth nodded, disappointed but not yet defeated. “Yeah, I thought you might say that. That’s why I made this.”

He gestured toward the piece of paper on the table. Jeff picked it up and read it over. Then he passed it to Grant so he could do the same.

“Okay, what exactly am I looking at here?” Grant asked.

“It’s a list of suspects,” Gareth said, a proud smile on his face. “Yeah, last night I compiled a list of every girl I’ve ever seen Eddie interact with at school, and then this morning I whittled that list down to what I think are the most likely suspects.”

“Not a very long list,” Jeff said.

“Really?” said Grant. “I was gonna say it’s too long.” 

They shared a little chuckle over that. Gareth glowered at them, unamused. He didn’t appreciate them making little jabs about their Dungeon Master’s love life, stagnant as it was.

“You know,” Grant began with ominous deliberation, “I can’t help but notice there’s a name missing from this list.”

Gareth's head snapped back in surprise. “Who?”

“You know who,” Grant said. Beside him, Jeff was holding in a grin.

A disturbing chill crept up Gareth's spine. Then—

BAM!

Your name cracked down from above like a fiendish lightning bolt, striking Gareth and making all the little hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. For a second, he could see your name so clearly. It loomed before him, ugly and terrible, festering with pus and crawling with maggots, getting pecked savagely by vultures and other scavengers. It made him retch with disgust.

“Oh, very funny…”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Grant said, “there’s no denying that she’s a likely suspect.” 

“In fact,” Jeff continued, “some might say she’s the most likely suspect.” 

“Yeah, maybe back in middle school,” Gareth said, “but Eddie hasn’t so much as looked at her in years.”

Except for that one time, he thought, remembering the mournful look on his friend’s face that day.

They were all eating lunch when your laughter suddenly sprang up from the other side of the cafeteria, obnoxious and shrill. Eddie glanced your way and his eyes darkened with such hollow sadness. It was as if someone had died.

But that didn’t mean anything, Gareth decided, so he shoved the memory away.

“All right, look, I’ll admit we lost him briefly for that one summer. I dunno how she did it, but somehow she got her claws in him real deep and he was completely under her spell. I won’t deny that. But then Eddie woke up and saw her for what she really is—an ugly green hag! At first, she appears as this beautiful, enchanting woman, but underneath that guise, she’s a wretched old witch who thrives on torment. Yeah, Eddie got over her a long time ago,” and Gareth refused to waste another thought on it.

He snatched the paper from Grant and laid it out in front of him. “Now, here’s what I’m thinking: if we split this up among the three of us, we can get through this list by lunch and then confront Eddie with our findings.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that,” Grant said.

Gareth frowned. “Why not?”

“Because we already know who it is.”

Gareth’s eyes widened in surprised anger. “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT! I knew you two were messing with me this whole time. Sitting there with your smug little faces. Making your little jokes. You know what, screw you guys, I don’t even want your help anymore.”

He stuffed the paper back into his bag, climbed to his feet, and stomped off.

Over his shoulder, Jeff said, “Shoulda gone to prom, man.”

Gareth paused, dejected. “Well, no one would go with me…” He pushed through the double doors and was gone.

Afterward, Grant picked up his milk carton and took a few slow slips.

“You know what,” he said thoughtfully, “Gareth should’ve asked Y/N to prom.”

Jeff chuckled to himself. “Well, she did need a date… Shit, should we have just told him?”

“No,” Grant said. “No, this is something Gareth needs to see with his own eyes.”

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand. 

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would. 

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy. 

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.” 

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said. 

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought. 

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends. 

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again.

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen. 

Two suspects down. Eight more to go.

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over!

Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner. 

Coincidence? 

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view. 

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…? 

While hanging up her pink backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.” 

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you. 

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward. 

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”  

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.” 

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”  

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks. 

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too. 

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you. 

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…” 

You spotted a familiar face down the hall. 

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.” 

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.” 

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression. 

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said. 

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother. 

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand. 

“Hey, give that back!” 

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?” 

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh, you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.” 

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway. 

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms. 

“Just ignore them,” she told you. 

“I already am,” you said… but then you saw Sarah, Sally, and Stacy huddled around Stacy’s locker. Talking about their hair. Talking about their clothes. Stirring their black cauldron of boiling bones and animal guts. Sarah looked at you, whispered something to Sally, who passed the same message on to Stacy, and all three of them tittered gleefully at your expense. 

“Just ignore them,” Chrissy said.

“I will,” you said, but first—

You whipped around and burst out: “So which one of you got knocked up after prom? My money’s on you, Stacy.” 

Chrissy, dismayed but secretly delighted, tugged gently on your right elbow. Before going with her, you tossed Satan’s mistress (AKA Stacy Raab) a snide little wink. Stacy rolled her eyes in disgust. 

“Stop it,” Chrissy said. 

“They started it.” 

“I know… but stop it. You’re better than that.” 

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he’d worn when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile. 

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note.

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall. 

Eight-nineteen…

You sighed. 

… and now eight-twenty.

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again. 

“Kind of,” you admitted. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.” 

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.” 

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming. 

“Nope.” You slipped off your messenger bag and hung it on the hook. 

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?” 

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.” 

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.  

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.” 

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.  

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”  

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least. 

Chrissy poked your shoulder playfully. “That’s how it starts, you know. Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.” 

“You’re still like that.” 

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. 

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand-new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…” 

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”  

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again. 

Eight twenty-three. 

Where the hell’s Eddie? you wondered, starting to get a little worried.

Jason’s arrival reclaimed your attention. 

“Hey, guys,” he said in that smooth drawl that made all the girls swoon. 

You expected to find him standing with his million-dollar smile, but he wasn’t. No, today Jason seemed different—humble, approachable, perhaps even a little shy. It was as if he’d reverted back to his ten-year-old self. Little Jason Carver, who could barely dribble a basketball. The boy who stammered when he introduced himself to the rest of the class. The boy who sat down next to you, smiled, and said he liked the character on your favorite shirt. The boy who talked to you every day. Encouraged you. Defended you. The boy you caught staring at your best friend way too many times to be a coincidence. 

Then you looked at Chrissy and she seemed younger, too. A blushing, fidgeting ten-year-old who always forgot to stand up straight. She got so excited when Jason offered to walk her home from school. He even carried my books!

Back then, your happiness for them had been counterfeit, complicated, but not anymore. Yeah, now you could say you were genuinely happy for both of them. 

This was still awkward as hell, though.

“Hey, Chrissy needs to borrow a pencil,” you blurted out, breaking their amorous trance.

A soft pink flush rose to Jason’s cheeks. “What?”

“Just ignore her,” Chrissy said, struggling to keep a straight face. 

Meanwhile, you punched Jason on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t forget about our deal, buddy.” 

“I haven’t,” he told you. “I’ll buy your lunch, as promised. It’s the least I can do.” 

“What if I want two lunches? And a whole plate of cookies?”

“Then I guess I’m buying you two lunches and a whole plate of cookies.” 

Jason smiled at you… but then his demeanor changed, hardening like armor. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You blinked at him. “Am I okay?” you repeated slowly, a little taken aback. “Well, I did wake up with a strange tattoo on my wrist. It’s like a crucifix, except it’s upside-down. Weird… Also, I can’t be sure, but I think I might be dealing with a Rosemary’s Baby scenario. Yeah, I’m definitely gonna be giving birth to the Antichrist in about nine months. Buy something black.” 

Jason’s eyes widened in confused horror. 

“Oh my god, I’m kidding!” you said. “Eddie was a complete gentleman. He even asked for permission before he impregnated me with his hellseed. Naturally, I gave him the green light because… well, have you seen his face? It’s kinda perfect.” 

Chrissy put her hand over her mouth and giggled. Jason didn’t appreciate your joke. 

“Come on, be serious.” 

“I am being serious. Believe it or not, I actually find him insanely attractive. He’s like a discount version of Eddie Van Halen, and I can’t afford the real thing, so…” 

“So you actually slept with him?” Jason sounded disappointed and ashamed. He reminded you of your father. 

No, worse than your father.

“Well, no, I was kidding about that. I mean, I did sleep with him, but not in the way you’re assuming. And are you seriously gonna judge me for having sex? It’s been a while since I’ve been to church, but I’m pretty sure the bible condemns hypocrisy. You might wanna reread those sections. I think you’ll find them very enlightening.”

Jason ground his jaw in irritation. “Stop making jokes.” 

“I don’t want to,” you said finally, your voice breaking, “because then I’m just gonna get really, really mad like I’m doing right now, and I don’t wanna be mad at you, Jason. I was having a really good morning until you showed up.” 

By now, Chrissy had stopped laughing. Her shoulders drooped and she looked at you with a sick, sorry expression. 

Jason said, “Look, I just think you’re undervaluing yourself, okay? You can do so much better than that—”

“Oh, please don’t do that. Don’t try to talk to me like you’re my friend.” 

“I am your friend.” 

“Then be my friend, Jason. Stop trying to ruin my happiness!”

The school bell dinged and students began making their way to class. Jason went, too. Didn’t even bother saying goodbye. Chrissy told you not to worry about him. “Jason’ll come around eventually.” Then she smiled, waved goodbye, and ran to catch up with him. 

You weren’t half as optimistic as she was. 

This is gonna be a huge problem, isn’t it?  

You groaned, dreading it. 

Behind you, another wave of students came rushing down the hallway. Brittany Wirth was among them. You knew because you could hear her shrill voice piercing through the dull chatter around her. She was ranting about prom, complaining about the flowers, complaining about the food, about the music, about—

“YOU!” 

You flinched and turned around, thinking she was talking to you. 

What you saw made your eyes light up with glee. Brittany Wirth had Eddie Munson pinned up against the lockers, and she was jabbing him in the chest with her index finger. 

“You, sir, are a total asshole! Do you have any idea how hard I worked on that event? I was planning it for months, planning it to perfection, and then YOU had to go and make it all about yourself, as usual.” She stepped back and huffed, exhausted. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.” 

“I’m a little proud of myself,” Eddie replied candidly. 

Brittany shot him a deadly glare. “Oh, shut up!” She swept her hair off her shoulder and walked away.

You stopped her as she passed. “You know what, Brittany, all things considered, I thought it was a very successful night.” 

Brittany’s jaw dropped and got stuck like that, locked in befuddled rage. Not a single sound came out, but you could tell she was trying to speak. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Did Brittany Wirth actually crack? She worked her lips unsuccessfully for a minute and then closed them again, steaming in her hatred, screaming internally like a boiling teapot. She brushed past you and continued on her way. 

Then you heard Eddie approach you.  

“Did I really make the night all about me?” 

His question made you giggle. “A little bit.” You turned around with a smile, glad to see him, relieved to see him. “I still had a good time, though.” 

“Well, that’s all that matters,” Eddie said, but there was something in your eyes that made him frown with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, and blinked that silly little worry away. “Jason’s just being… well, Jason.” 

“I take it he doesn’t approve of me.” 

“Yeah, you’ve really got him clutching his bible. He thinks you’re gonna drain my blood and sacrifice me to the devil.” 

“Really?” Eddie said, his eyes widening in false astonishment. “Well, he just spoiled our next date.” 

“Oh, really?” you replied, giggling. “Well, I guess that explains why I’m still a virgin.” 

Eddie winced, looked down at his shoes, and grinned bashfully. “Okay, I walked right into that one.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said; and God, it drove you crazy seeing him get so flustered.

Kinda like last night, you thought, startling yourself, and immediately shooed that dangerous thought away. Now was not the time for that, young lady. You still had a full day of school to get through. Somehow.

“You’re late,” you said.

“Yeah, I uh…” Eddie brought his hand to his face and started rubbing it. “I got pulled over for speeding.”

You gasped. “No, you didn’t.” 

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Prove it.”

Eddie pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. You opened it and immediately busted out laughing. 

“Oh, wow… going fifty-five in a forty-five.” 

“Eh, they went easy on me… I was going at least sixty.” 

“Wow…” 

“Yeah…” Eddie said, tilting his head. “The one time I’m in a rush to get to school.” 

His brown eyes sought yours and settled there for a moment, his lips curling into a tender, captivated smile. You smiled back helplessly, feeling girly, feeling giddy, feeling like you were probably grinning like an idiot right now. Embarrassed, you pressed the paper to your mouth in a vain attempt to hide it. When that didn’t work, you thrust the ticket back into Eddie’s hand and turned away, pretending to pull books from your locker. 

You felt along the spines like someone fumbling around in the dark. What class were you going to again? History? English? French? 

No, you weren’t even taking French.

You spoke to Eddie in a frazzled voice: “Well, since you’re not in handcuffs right now, I’m assuming they didn’t find anything when they searched your van, huh?” 

“Luckily, no…” 

“Good thing you cleaned out your van yesterday.”

“Mhm…” Eddie said, his voice seeming much closer than before.

Your roaming fingers slowed, then stopped, sliding all the way down the stack of books. With one more step, his presence had consumed you, making you blind and deaf to everything else, everything except Eddie. You could feel him standing next to you, leaning into you, his left hand outstretched and resting against the locker beside you. His voice sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Find what you’re looking for yet?”

You gazed into his eyes and got lost in them. “… I can’t remember what class I’m going to.”

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, senselessly, and saw Eddie crack a small smile: half amused and half… something else, something that brought you back to last night—that quiet, rainy night. Sitting in the dark and listening to music. Eddie humming softly beside you, drumming his right hand on the steering wheel, watching the tiny droplets race down his windshield. You sitting in your seat nervously. Fidgeting restlessly. Running your fingers over the plastic cassette case on your lap. Pretending to take interest in it while secretly watching Eddie out of the corner of your eye. Waiting for him to kiss you. Hoping he’d kiss you. Catching him staring at you with that smile… the same smile he was giving you now… right before he leaned in and…

“Ahem.” 

Another student appeared behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “Uhh, can I get to my locker, please?”

Eddie drew away from you, embarrassed and a little frustrated, and took two giant steps back.

The girl assumed his place without a word, opened her locker, hung up her backpack, her jacket, grabbed her textbook and notebook, snatched a few pens from her bag, and closed her locker again. Before leaving, she motioned between you and Eddie and said, “So is this like a thing now?”

You caught Eddie’s eye for a second. “Uhh, yes,” you said while he fought back a huge smile.

The girl shook her head as if dizzy. “Weird,” she said, and left. 

Afterward, you turned to Eddie with a puzzled frown. “Wait, is it weird that I’m dating you or that you’re dating me? I need to know where I rank in this relationship.”

“Maybe you should ask her.” 

“Maybe I will…” 

Giggling, you stepped past him, spotted your locker neighbor at the end of the hallway, cupped your hands over your mouth, and shouted, “Hey, Carmen!” but you never got a chance to finish. Eddie had grabbed your hand and dragged you back to him, pulling you into his arms, putting you right where he wanted you, intending to pick up exactly where he left off.

The second bell rang before you could even feel his breath on your lips. Eddie closed his eyes tightly, as if pained. 

“I really hate that I have to be in school right now.” 

“Me too,” you said, staring up at him, your heart still pounding in your chest. “We should probably get to class.”  

Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and held you tighter against him. “Or we could just, y’know, skip first period altogether… since you don’t know where you’re supposed to be anyway.” 

He swooped down and placed a few chaste kisses along the side of your head. Blushing, you buried your face into his chest. 

“Are you trying to get me to cut class, sir?”

“No, just giving you options.” 

“Mhm,” you said, giggling. 

While you contemplated his offer, you traced your hand over the button pocket of his denim vest, feeling the fabric, flicking each of his treasured pins one by one: Judas Priest, Accept, Mercyful Fate. You found the W.A.S.P. pin last and focused on it, teasing it with your finger. 

“And then what?” you asked, lifting your head to look at him. “We go back to your van and finish what you started last night?” 

Eddie’s eyes brightened in surprise. “Finish what you started, if I remember correctly.”  

“Was I the one who started it?” You frowned, pretending not to remember. 

Meanwhile, your hand had drifted up to the collar of his leather jacket. You nudged it out of the way and started tugging along the neckline of his shirt, revealing a faint pink bruise on the base of his collarbone. Eddie winced as your finger brushed over it. You smiled softly, remembering how his breath hitched when your lips made the first budding mark, how he cursed and moaned while you planted all the others, his hands slipping underneath your shirt and sliding across your skin. 

“I may have gotten a little carried away…”

“Yeah, you definitely did,” Eddie said, smiling at you.  

“I just really like W.A.S.P.”

“Do you?” 

“Mhm…”

Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he laughed. “Well, I still have the tape in my van. We can go listen to it right now if you want.” 

You bit your lip hard, unable to answer right away. God dammit, what had you gotten yourself into? You weren’t seriously considering his proposition before, but now…

“Go to class, please.” 

Now Ms. Kelley had come out of her office and was sweeping away the last few stragglers, you and Eddie included.

“I know we’re all a little sluggish this morning, but let’s start this week off strong, okay? There’s still another month before graduation. Don’t lose your focus now.” She looked at you and Eddie tiredly. “You two. Class. Now.”

You sighed as you saw your window of opportunity close. Eddie peeled himself away from you and started down the hallway.  

“See ya later,” he said over his shoulder. 

“Bye,” you said back, hiding your disappointment behind a smile. 

Upon returning to your locker, you grabbed your textbook—the right textbook—and wedged it in the crook of your left elbow. While hunting around for the matching notebook and folder, you heard Eddie’s voice behind you again, catching you completely by surprise.

“Oh, wait,” he said hurriedly, “I forgot to tell you something.” 

“Hmm?”

You turned around and felt Eddie’s hands cup the sides of your face, drawing you in for a soft, sweet kiss. You closed your eyes, savoring it. A moment later, he broke the kiss and pulled away.

“See you in third period,” he said, departing with a smile. 

It took you a second to recover from that. When you finally did, you clutched your textbook to your chest and smiled uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes, your heart racing, stomach fluttering, face glowing with pure, radiant joy. 

Under your breath, you whispered, “I hate so much that I have to be in school right now.”

Gareth, on the other hand, was glad to be in school today. Admittedly, his morning had gotten off to a rough start, but things were finally starting to look up for him, and now he felt like he was on the verge of a major breakthrough. 

Maybe. 

Hopefully.

But he didn’t wanna jinx it. 

In first period, Gareth snuck into the library and talked to Matilda Gunn: salutatorian, captain of the debate team, and the third name on Gareth’s list (his new list, of course; the original list was long gone, probably lying in a trashcan somewhere).

Matilda, anyway, was sitting at the back table and studying for her upcoming physics test. Matilda preferred studying in the library over her study hall class because she couldn’t stand the sound of her neighbor chewing and slurping his nails. She wasn’t too happy when Gareth pulled out the chair across from her and sat down. She was even less happy when he brought up Eddie Munson. 

“First of all, I’m offended that you would even think I would associate with that moron. I hate the guy. He ruined my GPA. Stupid group projects… God, I hate them!” Enraged, Matilda tore a random leaf out of her notebook and ripped the poor thing to shreds. Gareth watched her do it, horrified, and hoped there was nothing important written on that page. “You know, if I’d known he was gonna slack off like he did, I would’ve just done the whole thing myself. But no… I gave him the benefit of the doubt. I gave him the easiest task and he couldn’t even do that. He said he forgot about it. Said he was busy working on a campaign or something.”

“Yeah, he gets like that sometimes,” Gareth said. “Like last month, he spent the whole weekend learning ‘Master of Puppets.’ Have you heard that song?” 

Matilda shook her head, her eyes glazed with boredom. 

“Well, doesn’t matter. It’s a very hard song to play. That’s all you need to know. And Eddie became obsessed with it. He locked himself in his room all weekend and practiced over and over and—” 

Matilda pressed her hand to her temple and hissed, “Listen, junior freak, I don’t give a shit about Eddie Munson and his fucking guitar. Okay? Second of all, I didn’t even go to prom on Saturday. I was studying all weekend, studying for this test, and if I don’t get an A, I’m gonna hold you personally responsible. Now get lost.”

Gareth lurched back in his seat and felt his mouth go dry. 

(Once again, why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“Okay,” he said in a small voice. “I’m, uhh, sorry for bothering you.” 

He got up to leave. 

“Wait,” Matilda said with a sigh; then after a moment of careful, painful deliberation, she put out her hand. “Gimme your stupid list.”

Gareth held the list against his chest, protecting it. “You’re not gonna rip it up, are you?” he asked, observing the tattered remains of her last victim. “Because I’m getting kinda tired of writing all these names out.”

And some of those girls had really long names.  

“I’m not gonna rip it up.” Matilda’s voice was strained with frustration and fatigue, but there was still some warmth hiding in there, dimly glowing beneath the cold black coals of her heart. “I’m gonna help you narrow it down, okay? Otherwise, you’ll never figure it out.” She motioned impatiently with her hand. “Come on, hurry up.” 

Gareth handed her the list and she looked it over for a minute, vaguely amused.  

“Not a very long list,” she said while uncapping her highlighter with her teeth. 

“Well, Eddie’s very picky.” 

As he should be, Gareth thought. That man deserved the best.

(much better than you) 

Matilda snorted under her breath. “Yeah, I’m sure that’s it.” She rolled her eyes, bent her head, and began marking up the list with her highlighter. Her hand was calm and controlled, each movement deliberate, precise, as to be expected of an advanced test taker. “Okay, she has a boyfriend… she, I’m pretty sure, has a girlfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… boyfriend… she’s been out of town for a funeral… and she… doesn’t even live in this state anymore.”

She crossed off the last name and slid the paper across the table. 

Gareth gaped at it, speechless. “You just eliminated everyone.” 

Matilda shrugged. “Like I said, not a long list.” 

It was a major setback, the kind of setback that made you want to tear the whole thing to pieces, cut your losses, and give up. Gareth seriously considered it. He almost did it while sitting in his second-period class. 

But then an angel appeared. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel named Olivia Kent.

She peered over his shoulder during class. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked, sitting with her chin on her palm. 

Gareth considered lying, saying he was working on his assignment or something, but in his current state, he didn’t have the heart to deceive anyone, especially not Olivia, who was so innocent and kind.

“I’m trying to figure out who my friend went home with after prom.” 

“Oh? Who’s your friend?”

“Eddie Munson.” 

“Oh…” Olivia giggled a silly, unaffected giggle. “Yeah, he had quite the night.” 

Gareth turned around in his seat. “You were at prom, Livvy?” 

“Mhm! It was a lotta fun.” 

“And you saw Eddie there?”

“Sure. I saw him lots of times.” 

“Did you see him leave with anybody?”

“Sure did… I saw everything.” 

“You saw everything?” Gareth sat back, awestruck, and felt tears come to his eyes. This was it. This was finallyit. This was the breakthrough that Gareth had been waiting for. An eyewitness—a star witness—had emerged at last, willing and eager to cooperate. “Oh, Livvy, you beautiful, beautiful, heavenly creature, tell me everything.” 

“About what?”

“About prom, Livvy.” 

“Oh, you wanna hear about prom?” Olivia shrugged, smiled, and said, “Okay! Philip Cuthbert asked me. I didn’t think he was going to, but then he totally surprised me! I wore a frilly pink dress and matching pink heels. Phillip wore a dark blue tux and a black bowtie. I think it was black, but it might’ve been blue, too. Then Philip got me one of those really pretty flower bracelets… What are those called again? Oh, right, corsages! Anyway, we took pictures on the front lawn of my house, then we took pictures at his house, and then we took more pictures in front of City Hall. I don’t normally like taking so many pictures, but I didn’t mind so much in this case. It was a special occasion. Phillip said I looked very pretty. He was really nice to me all night. He held my hand. He bought me dinner. He got me some cake. I actually ate two slices of cake that night, but don’t tell anybody, okay? I was only supposed to have one. And then we danced and drank punch and we danced again—”

Gareth put his hand on top of hers, making Olivia blush and look at him in doe-eyed wonderment. “Livvy, I’m glad you had such a fun time at prom, but since class is gonna be ending soon, do you think you could speed things up and get to the part where you saw Eddie? Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Olivia said, smiling. “I saw him talking to Chrissy.” 

“Yeah, he went there to ask her to dance. I told him it was a terrible idea, but he refused to listen to me.” 

“Yeah, that was a bad idea. Why would he do that?” 

“Because Eddie’s a hopeless romantic.” 

“Really?” Olivia frowned, considering it. “He doesn’t seem like one.” 

“He hides it behind a mask of cynicism, and he hides it very well.” 

“Oh,” Livvy said, mystified by the concept. “Well, I guess that explains why he got up on stage then.”

“Wait, Eddie got up on stage?” 

Damn, Gareth thought, that’s actually really impressive.

“Mhm! He gave this long speech and everything. My friends said it was really weird and embarrassing, but honestly, I thought it was kinda sweet. Super embarrassing, but sweet. It was kind of like a… hmm… well, I guess you could call it a love confession. I don’t remember what he said exactly, but it was really adorable, and normally I wouldn’t use that word to describe Eddie—you know, ‘cause he’s so mean and scary-looking—but at that moment, he really was adorable. Kinda like a puppy. And then he played Journey and—” 

Gareth’s head rocked back. “He played Journey? Eddie played Journey? Eddie doesn’t like Journey. Nobody likes Journey. Nobody except…” 

(you)

Gareth’s eyes widened. His stomach plummeted to the floor. Then he shook his head and the thought was gone. 

“Okay, maybe it’s just a coincidence,” he said. “Maybe the DJ suggested Journey. Do you remember what song it was, Livvy?” 

“No, I don’t. Sorry, I’m not very good with song titles.” 

“Was it ‘Separate Ways’? ‘Any Way You Want It’? ‘Don’t Stop Believin’’? ‘Faithfully’? ‘Open Arms’?” 

“You know, for someone who doesn’t like Journey, you sure know a lot of Journey songs.” 

And for someone who seemed like such an airhead, Olivia Kent was shockingly observant. Gareth was rather impressed. He couldn’t help but tip his head to her. Touché, fair lady.

“I think it was the last one,” Olivia said. 

“‘Open Arms’?” 

“I think so.” 

“So Eddie played a sappy love song,” Gareth concluded while rubbing his chin. “Makes sense.” 

“Mhm… and it must’ve worked ‘cause she left with him right after.” 

“You saw the girl who left with him?”  

“Yep.” 

“You saw her face?”

“Of course I did. She walked right past me.” 

“And did you recognize her?”

“Uh-huh!” 

“YES!” Gareth pumped his fists excitedly. He almost leaped out of his chair and kissed her, he was so happy. “Who was it, Livvy? Tell me who it was!”

Olivia sighed. “I don’t remember.” 

“What?” Gareth’s heart shattered. “But you just said you recognized her.”

“I did recognize her face, but I don’t remember her name… Sorry, Gareth, I’m not very good with names.” 

“You’re not good with names,” Gareth repeated softly, beside himself. “She’s not good with names. She’s not good with names. My star witness isn’t good with names.” 

He laughed madly to himself, feeling dizzy and delirious, feeling like the whole room was spinning like a turntable. A turntable playing Journey. Journey! Of all the bands in the world, Eddie, why Journey? Why? Why?

Meanwhile, Olivia rested her cheek against her palm and smiled at him. “You have really pretty eyes. Do you want my number?”  

Gareth paused, considering it. His face turned bright red. 

“Yes, Livvy. Yes, I’d love to get your number.” 

“Cool!” She scribbled it on a piece of notebook paper and handed it to him. “Call me sometime, okay?” 

So now Gareth was strolling away from his third-period class with a laminated hall pass in hand, Olivia Kent’s phone number in his pocket, a massive pit in his stomach, and Steve Perry’s annoying voice in his head. 

Journey. 

Eddie had requested Journey.  

It wasn’t a coincidence, was it? 

Gareth walked past Mr. Prichard’s math class, stopped, and backpedaled a few paces. He pressed his face against the glass and peered inside. 

Eddie was sitting at his desk with his assignment out and textbook open in front of him. He had his pencil in his hand, but he had yet to write a single answer. He was just tapping it against his notebook while he stared absently at the chalkboard, stared with a faraway look in his eyes. Gareth knew that look. It meant Eddie was lost in thought, usually about D&D or whatever new song he was learning, but today Gareth had a sneaking suspicion that Eddie was thinking about something else—or rather someone else. 

But not you. Please, God, not you. 

You were sitting behind him and quietly working on your assignment, just working on your assignment, and that caught Gareth a little off guard. If you had gone home with Eddie (as Gareth begrudgingly suspected now), shouldn’t you have been acting a little… happy? excited? Shouldn’t you have been staring at the back of his head with a dumb, lovesick expression? Daydreaming and doodling about him in your notebook? Naming your future children and planning your destination wedding?

Gareth expected to feel something when he peeked into that classroom. A change in energy. A shift in the natural balance of the universe. Call it whatever you want, but there should have been a noticeable difference in the air, right? Right?  

But there wasn’t.

Everything was totally normal. 

You and Eddie were acting totally normal. 

And that filled Gareth with an exhilarating sense of relief. 

It wasn’t you. Thank God, it wasn’t you. 

Gareth backed away with a smile. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen the exact change in energy he had been waiting for. If he had stayed a minute longer, he would have seen Eddie turn around and start talking to you. He would have seen you smile and blush and tell him to go back to his assignment (even though you didn’t really want him to go back to his assignment). Then he would have seen Eddie turn back to the front, try to do his work, give up, and turn around again five minutes later. 

But Gareth didn’t stay. Instead, he continued down the hallway in blissful ignorance, pulled out his list, ripped it up, and tossed the pieces into the trash. 

If it wasn’t any of them and it wasn’t you, there was only one logical conclusion. 

“She doesn’t go to school here, does she?”

Gareth forced this treasonous charge onto Eddie as soon as he arrived at the cafeteria. He had found his target sitting at his usual place at the head of the table. The seat of high honor. Eddie’s chair. The king’s chair. Gareth, a once-honorable and faithful soldier, slammed down his tray, leaned forward, pressed his palms into the table, and looked Eddie Munson square in the eye. Unblinking. Unflinching. Unyielding against his Dungeon Master’s powerful, intimidating aura.  

A moment of tense silence passed. Jeff and Grant looked at each other and immediately stopped eating. Jeff put down his peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Grant screwed on the lid of his soup thermos and set the container aside. There was no telling how long this would take. Gareth had a talent for prolonging his inevitable demise. It was like watching a slow hanging. 

Oh, but what a show it would be. 

“Who is she, Eddie?” Gareth thrust out his finger accusingly. “Huh? Is she a teacher? A townie? Some drunk chick you picked up at the bar while drowning your pathetic sorrows away?” 

“Yikes,” Jeff said, cringing. 

And Grant said, “That is quite the allegation.”  

Indeed it was, and Eddie didn’t seem to appreciate the open assault on his character. His brown eyes sharpened into a steely glare. They reflected Gareth’s destruction like a black crystal ball. Doom. Doom. Doom. 

“Get your finger outta my face,” Eddie said, and that was all he needed to say.  

“I’m so sorry,” Gareth said, and fell back into his chair with a thump. His heart thudded in his chest while the color slowly returned to his face. That was as close to death as Gareth had ever come. It was a miracle he’d survived. He bent his head and capitulated: “I sincerely apologize for my previous statement. It was malicious and rude, completely unbecoming of my position.”

Grant squinted his eyes curiously. “And what is your position, exactly?” 

“I’m Eddie’s best friend, obviously.” 

“Obviously,” Jeff echoed, snickering. 

Grant, wryly amused, said, “Uhh, I’m pretty sure Scottie’s his best friend.” 

Eddie, having dropped his tyrannous facade, was pretending to listen while absentmindedly picking through his snack bag, his thoughts elsewhere, eyes elsewhere. But where, Gareth couldn’t say. He had strained his neck to see who Eddie was looking at, but it was impossible to tell with so many people in the cafeteria. He could have been looking at anyone, anyone, anyone except you.

“He’s right,” Eddie murmured. “Scottie’s my best friend.” 

Gareth shrugged, unconcerned with such trivial technicalities. “Well, then I’m your second best friend, Eddie, and since Scottie’s in prison right now, I have to step in and assume the role in his stead.” 

“Ah, the interim best friend. So that’s the imaginary position you gave yourself.” 

“Oh, shut up and eat your soup, Grant.” 

“I will eat my soup,” Grant said, “and I’ll enjoy it while you continue to embarrass yourself.” 

“You’re embarrassing yourself,” Gareth grumbled nonsensically. He stabbed a piece of broccoli with his fork, stuffed it into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. It tasted like dirt. “I’m having a really horrible day.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” Eddie said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Mine’s actually going pretty well.”

Another cryptic response. Gareth simply couldn’t take it anymore.

“You know,” Jeff began, “speaking of Scottie—” 

Gareth flung down his fork angrily, sending a spear of broccoli whizzing past Grant’s left shoulder. 

“Oh, come on, just tell me who it is already! Enough with the hints and the coded language. I swear to God, you’re driving me crazy, Eddie! You’ve been torturing me for days with this mystery. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t think about anything else. As your friend, I’m begging you to stop. Please, for my sanity, stop.” 

Eddie popped a pretzel into his mouth and chewed. “I’ve been torturing you?”

Grant said, “He’s been torturing himself, honestly.” 

Jeff nodded, seeming on the verge of laughter. “Yeah, he made a list and everything.”

Eddie grimaced. “Wait, there’s a list? Why is there a list?” 

“Because you’ve driven me to madness, Eddie!” Gareth blurted out in blind white rage. “I hope you’re happy because you’ve driven me to complete madness! Who were you with on Saturday? Don’t even try to deny it because I heard a girl talking in the background. It wasn’t the TV. It was a girl. A living, breathing girl. I know you were with her that night, and I know you were with her yesterday.” 

“I wasn’t with her yesterday,” Eddie replied, his eyelids heavy with annoyance. “I already told you, I was out running errands.” 

“Oh, you’re sticking with that story, huh? Okay, Eddie, let’s assume you were out running errands. Let’s assume you spent your whole Sunday exactly as you said. You got up bright and early, stopped by the drugstore for God knows what, and then spent the rest of the day by yourself at home, cleaning out your van.” 

“I did clean out my van yesterday. That’s how I found my lost W.A.S.P. tape.”  

“Oh, which album?” Grant asked. 

“The Last Command,” Eddie answered, a soft smile touching his face. 

Wait, was that another clue?

“Nice,” Grant said. “That’s a solid album.” 

Eddie nodded, agreeing, but now there was a distant glimmer in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Gareth couldn’t take his eyes off it. It was as if his friend was lost in a cherished memory. 

What significance did this W.A.S.P. tape hold?

Was there any significance? 

These questions twisted Gareth’s mind into a pretzel. 

And speaking of pretzels, Eddie had set down his snack bag and stopped eating. Weird. He now sat with his arms folded over his chest, fingers drumming impatiently against his right bicep. His wandering eyes kept going back to the clock. Counting down the minutes. What had him so restless all of a sudden? What was he waiting for? His next class? English? Was that significant? Eddie hated English. He dreaded English. He complained about it every day because it meant he had to see— 

Eddie pushed off the table and stood up. Gareth climbed up from his chair, too. 

“Where are you going, Eddie?” 

“Dude,” Jeff said, looking up at him. “You need to calm down.” 

“Otherwise,” Grant went on, “you might get demoted to third best friend.”

The two of them dissolved into laughter. Gareth didn’t even hear them.  

“It’s happening,” he muttered. “Something’s happening.”

“Yeah, you annoyed Eddie so much that he had to leave to get away from you.” 

But that wasn’t it. Eddie wasn’t fleeing for the exit like a coward. No, he was marching straight through the middle of the cafeteria like a lone soldier charging through the battlefield. Charging to victory or to death. He was infiltrating the enemy’s stronghold, impervious to their hostile glares and raised eyebrows. Even Jason Carver himself, who had begun to get out of his chair, could not stop him today. Eddie was a man determined, a man determined to get to

(of course)

you. 

He wedged himself between two basketball players, pushed his palms into the table, and greeted you with a charming smile. You gazed up at him in sweet surprise. 

“Hi,” you said. 

“Hi,” he said back. “You wanna skip next period?”

Chrissy’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god,” she said while you blushed, buried your face in your hands, and giggled. 

Gareth, dumbstruck, slumped back into his chair with the bitter taste of defeat in his mouth. 

That bitch, he thought. That Journey-loving bitch, she actually did it.

Grant regarded him with an impressed frown. “You know, you’re handling this a lot better than I thought you would. When did you figure it out?” 

Gareth sighed. “Second period.” 

Eddie just had to play Journey.

There was a moment of solemn silence after that. Then Grant unscrewed his soup thermos and lunch resumed as usual. Jeff took a bite of his sandwich. Gareth, now resigned to his grim fate, stuck his fork into his meatloaf and cut himself a modest slice. The meat looked dry and grey. What a horrible new world he lived in. 

But, he supposed, there was something to look forward to. 

“I got Olivia Kent’s number today. I think I’m gonna ask her out this weekend.”

SERIES MASTERPOST

FANFICTION MASTERLIST

unfortunately, i no longer do taglists. if you want to stay updated on my fics, you can follow me and/or subscribe to my posts. thank you!

[oneforthemunny]

Reader meeting mafia!eddies friends for the first time (Gareth, Jeff, max etc) fluff😁

a little bit of mafia!eddie fluff this fine morning <3

"Are you nervous?" Eddie looked over at you, hand sliding down the bare skin of your thigh, free hand on the wheel.

You fidgeted, fingers twisting nervously. You knew he could feel it, that he was trying to soothe you under his sweet touch, but it just made your chest tighten even more. "Yeah," You admitted, gnawing on your bottom lip.

Eddie grinned at you sweetly. "Don't be nervous, baby." He hummed, giving your thigh a soft squeeze. "You're gonna love them."

You let out a breathy, nervous giggle. "I'm not worried about liking them." You muttered. "I'm worried about them liking me."

Eddie shook his head. "They're gonna love you, baby." He said, a finality in his tone that had your heart swelling. "Trust me."

It was a big step- a huge step, really. Inviting you to meet his friends- his business partners. The most trusted people in his life. It was such a vulnerable step that it made your chest tighten.

Eddie kept his circle small, you'd give him that. Three people sitting at the back booth of the restaurant Eddie always took you to. The small room in the back that was always private and reserved for him.

Eddie nodded, curt but calm when he walked in, his hand finding the small of your back gently guiding you with him. He rubbed your back through the silk of your dress as he introduced you to each person. He knew it calmed you. After the countless nights you two had spent together, he'd learned that.

"Hi," You squeaked, tight and overwhelmed with nerves. You wanted to make a good impression, to have them like you.

Jeff smiled at you warmly. "We've heard a lot about you, you know?" A teasing, lightness to his tone.

"Really?" You lifted a brow, looking at Eddie carefully, taking the seat that he pulled out for you.

"Oh, yeah. You tamed the untamable." Jeff snickered lightly, shoulder nudging Max's in playfulness. "Of course we heard about you."

"Yeah, we wanted to meet you the second Eddie told us he had at date. A real date too," Max added, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Not with the hookers at the club that he usually-"

"-Alright." Eddie snapped, eyes cutting to hers in such a menacing way it had you shivering. Max only howled in laughter, her and Jeff falling into each other in giggles.

Eddie turned to you, and for the first time ever, you could see his cheeks pink with embarrassment that he tried to hide. "They weren't hookers." Eddie added, giving you a softened look. "I don't need to hire my hookups like some people here." He hissed, glaring at Jeff.

You shifted uncomfortably, giving a soft, nervous giggle. Your eyes met Gareth, across the table. He'd glared at you since you'd first walked in, giving nothing but a curt nod, lips snarled in near disgust at you. A look he still had now.

"Um," Your hands were clammy, wiping them gently under the table. "How long have you all known each other?"

"Since high school." Max said.

"Since Junior High, for me and Gare." Jeff nodded towards Gareth with a grin he didn't return. "We were all into Dungeons and Dragons. Used to play it growing up all the time in Gareth's mom's basement."

"Dungeons and Dragons?" You lifted a brow, a tiny smile on your lips when you turned to Eddie, his face flushing in heat. "I didn't know you liked that game."

"Oh, yeah," Jeff snorted lightly. "Eddie used to be our Dungeon Master in high school. Made a whole fuckin' club."

"Dungeon Master, huh?" You giggled, squeezing Eddie's knee playfully under the table. He didn't squirm, but he tensed under your teasing.

"Yeah," Eddie's voice cracked, swallowing to even it. "It's, uh, it's fun. You ever played?"

"No," You shook your head. "Never."

"Oh, it's so much fun." Jeff nodded. "We still play sometimes. Well, when we're free." He lifted a brow at Eddie's glare. "What? We do."

"You should play sometime." Max added. "I just started playing when I met them, but it's pretty entertaining. Or at least watching them lose their shit on each other is hilarious-"

"-So, where did you say you met Eddie?" Gareth's biting tone came from the other end of the table, silencing the playful conversation you'd been having.

You swallowed, shifting uncomfortably, his eyes glaring into you. "Uh, at my job." Your voice was shaky and unsure. "I-I work at the bank."

"But you're not from here?" Gareth's eyes narrowed.

"No," You shook your head. "I-I'm from-"

"-So, you end up in Hawkins, and immediately start dating Eddie?" Gareth's tone was suspect. The table was eerily quiet, Eddie tensing beside you.

"I-I didn't- I was roommates with Nancy in college, and I needed a job, so she, um, she got me a job at the bank with Joyce-" You were stammering nervously. You weren't sure why he frightened you so much. You knew Eddie knew everything about your home life, that he'd looked into you the second he saw you.

"-You don't think that's weird?" Gareth scoffed, looking over at Eddie.

Eddie's teeth grit. "No," He sneered. "I already looked into it. Me and Rick, Gareth, you fucking know that."

Gareth's eyes rolled over you unimpressed. "Besides," Eddie's hand fell on your under the table, squeezing it tightly. "I asked her out."

Max gasped lightly, brows shooting up in surprise. "No!' She gasped. "You didn't tell us that, Munson. Is that true?" She looked at you.

You nodded, swallowing your nerves. "Yeah," You forced a small smile, still shaken by Gareth. "He, uh, he came in and was kinda an asshole." You smirked at Eddie.

Max cackled, leaning across the table towards you. "No, I gotta hear this. Eddie won't talk about it, now I know why." She snickered. "Go on, tell me every fucking detail."

[punkrockmlchael]

The Girl Next Door

Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem Henderson!Reader

Modern AU; Best Friends to Lovers (Both Gareth and Reader are 18+)

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Best Friend Reader!, Underaged Drinking, Smut with Plot (kinda, mostly smut), Very whiney and needy Gareth, Reader has Nipple Piercings!, Very Submissive Gareth, Gareth has a Praise Kink, Accidental Confession, Smut: Making Out and Getting Handsy, Gareth makes a mess in his pants, Nipple Play, Riding Gareth, PinV, afab reader

Request: anon: I was wondering if you could write fluffy/smut with Gareth, maybe best friend to lovers. The reader is Dustin's older sister and he knows his sister’s crush, and Dustin makes it his personal mission to get The reader and Gareth together. hi! Thanks for the request! I love me some Gareth, especially best friends to lovers and this was my first time writing for a Henderson! reader so I hope you enjoy :) for some reason this turned into whiney and needy Gareth bc I craved that and like ugh, I love this man ++ huge shoutout to @keeryhours for letting me yap my way through this with you!

Synopsis: Growing up next door to the Emerson's house was cool. Pool parties in their fancy in-ground pool anytime you wanted, playing video games in their basement anytime you wanted, knocking on Gareth's window anytime you wanted (and in return, he definitely knocked on your window). It was so cool, until you developed a crush on Gareth... You swear you've kept this crush to yourself so well, but your little brother, Dustin, noticed the looks you gave his older Hellfire mentor and neighbor. Dustin thinks it's cute; he's a total sap for love and romance and he definitely wants you and Gareth to be together.

Word Count: 4.1k

-

gareth: hey! you’re going to the hellfire party tonight, right?

you: gareth, it’s literally at my house

gareth: oh, duh. idk, maybe you had plans?

you: no, dustin would freak out if i didn’t show up to his little party. plus you guys are like, my only friends? lol, where else would i be on a friday night?

gareth: damn, well, need any help? i can come over early and help ya!

you: actually, yeah, we might. if you want. you free in 10 minutes?

gareth: be there asap!!

you: perfect, thanks! front door is unlocked

gareth: as if i don’t know where the spare key is, a fake rock is pretty obvious

-

You rolled your eyes at his response, smiling to yourself. Yeah, a fake rock was pretty obvious, but also not your choice. You had your mom to thank for that one.

You slid your phone in your jeans back pocket and straightened out your low-cut crop top before heading towards the kitchen. Once you arrived down the stairs, you saw your brother, Dustin, moving around the kitchen with his friend Mike.

"Are you sure your mom is okay with us like... actually drinking tonight?" Mike asked, organizing the various amounts of liquor and beer that Eddie had dropped off on the counter.

"Mike, my mom literally doesn't care. She's not like your mom," Dustin replied, placing out some snacks. "Besides, my sister will be here, and Eddie, and so many more seniors that will be responsible."

"Responsible?" You asked, walking towards the kitchen island. You took a seat and smiled at your brother and his friend. "You really think we're responsible?"

Mike looked up at you and blinked a few times, staring at your cleavage in the low-cut crop top. Dustin looked over at him and hit his arm, shaking his head. "Dude, that's my sister!" Dustin redirected his attention to you, raising an eyebrow gently. "Gareth coming tonight?" He asked, a suggestive tone in his voice.

"Yeah, he'll be here soon, why do you ask?" You replied, looking at Dustin with a confused look. "I mean, it's a Hellfire party, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it is a Hellfire party. I just wasn't sure if he was stopping by," Dustin replied, a small smirk on his face as he turned back to what he was doing.

You gave him a look before responding, trying to read his look and understand what he was saying. "It's funny you ask that," you said, resting your arms on the counter and leaning over it a bit. "He just texted me and asked if I was coming to this party, as if it's not at my house."

"We both know Gareth isn't the sharpest tool in the drawer," Dustin replied, grabbing a bowl from the cabinet to put the chips in it.

"Hey, be nice," you warned, watching as he moved around the kitchen.

"Be nice?" Mike asked, looking back at you, seriously struggling to look at your face. "It's Gareth."

You gave Mike the same stern look you had given your brother moments before. He looked at you before he looked back at Dustin, cowering a little. "Dude, how is she so scary and hot?" Mike whispered to Dustin, looking back at you as he whispered.

"Dude, she's still my sister," Dustin groaned, shaking his head.

You raised an eyebrow, watching Dustin and Mike before you heard the front door open. You turned in your chair and smiled as Gareth walked into the kitchen, smiling at you.

"Hey," Gareth smiled, moving to stand next to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and looked up at Dustin and Mike, smiling at them both. "Mike, Dustin. Do you guys need any help?" He asked, stepping closer to you, his hand rubbing against the exposed skin of your shoulder gently.

"Hey, Gareth," Mike said, looking at you and Gareth.

Dustin also looked up at you and Gareth, immediately noticing his hand placement. And the fact that you leaned into Gareth's touch instinctively and immediately. He redirected his attention to Gareth and shook his head, that same small smirk still on his face.

"No, I think we're good," Dustin nodded, placing the bowl of chips on the counter in front of you. "Besides, I think the others should be here soon," he added, placing out some more snacks.

"Hm, okay, if you say so," Gareth hummed, grabbing a chip from the bowl to munch on with his free hand. He popped it in his mouth and looked at you, smiling softly. "You want a drink?" He asked, looking back at the counter full of beer, liquor and mixers. "Because I need one," he said, walking towards the counter where Mike stood.

"Already?" You giggled, watching him move toward the alcohol. "You just got here," you added, standing up and walking towards him.

"Yeah, well, lucky for me I can just stumble next door tonight when I leave," he shrugged, grabbing a red solo cup before he poured in some coconut flavored rum. He topped it off with some Dr. Pepper and looked at you, smiling as you appeared next to him. "And, you know Eddie will be wasted tonight, we might as well join him." He teased, taking a sip of his drink.

You made a face, looking at his cup. "I'm sorry," you said, grabbing your own red solo cup, "did you really just mix coconut rum and Dr. Pepper?" You asked, pouring some vodka into your cup. You topped it off with some Coke, stirring it up gently before you took a sip of it, making a face at the taste of alcohol.

"Says the girl that just mixed vodka with Coke," he rolled his eyes, bumping his shoulder into yours.

"It's a classic," you argued, rolling your eyes right back at him.

"A classic my ass," he replied, walking towards the living room. You shook your head and followed him, leaving Dustin and Mike alone in the kitchen again.

"What, uh, what was that?" Miked asked, looking towards the living room before looking back at Dustin.

Dustin smirked and shrugged, grabbing himself a can of beer. "That," he said, opening the beer before he took a sip, "is what our goal is tonight. Getting the two of them together," he nodded, looking back at Mike as he sipped the beer.

"Huh?!" Mike asked, looking at Dustin with wide eyes. "Why?"

"Because, it's my mission."

-

"Come on," Dustin giggled, looking at you from across the room as he nursed the second beer he was drinking for the night. "Truth or dare?" He asked, leaning closer to you.

You shook your head, sitting on the arm of the chair Gareth was sitting on. Gareth's arm was around your waist protectively, ensuring that you didn't fall off in any way. "Dustin," you said, looking at him. "I don't want to play."

"Hey now, come on, girl Henderson," Eddie piped in, leaning towards you like your brother did. "Answer baby Henderson's question."

"Yeah, girl, we all did it." Jeff added, giggling a little as he was feeling the alcohol. You looked at Jeff and Eddie and raised your eyebrow, turning your attention back to your brother.

What harm could he do?

"Fine," you sighed, taking another sip from your drink. "Dare."

"Perfect," Dustin nodded, looking between you and Gareth. "I dare you to play 7 minutes in heaven with Gareth!"

You choked on your drink, looking up at Dustin. He wore a cheeky smirk back. Eddie and Jeff broke out into a chorus of oooh's and Mike stared at Dustin like he was crazy. You looked at Gareth, his face bright red as he looked at Dustin.

"Dustin, what, no! That's... that's crazy!" You said, shaking your head.

"You totally have to do it!" Eddie said as he gave Dustin a high five.

"You can't back down from a dare!" Jeff replied, nodding along with Eddie's words. You looked at the boys with a shocked expression before you looked back at Gareth, his red face looking at you.

"Well, uh, a dare is a dare," Gareth said softly, nodding as he looked up at you. You looked back at him with a shocked face; not because he was agreeing to do this but because he seemed... nervous? “Besides, it’s just kissing,” he added, looking at you.

"Fine, I guess," you mumbled, standing up. You walked towards the stairs and made your way to your room, Gareth following after you quietly.

"Nice job, baby Henderson," Eddie said, watching you and Gareth walked towards your room. "I thought they'd never fuck," he added, looking back at Dustin.

"Dude, I know right?" Dustin replied, taking a small sip of the now warm beer in his hands.

"You don't... you don't think they're actually going to do that... right?" Mike asked cautiously.

"If Gareth can actually make a move, yeah." Jeff nodded.

“Oh, Mike,” Eddie smirked, downing the rest of his beer. “This has been a long time coming.”

-

You walked towards your room with Gareth trailing after you. You walked inside first, closing the door after Gareth before you locked it.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol in your system, the looks the boys all gave you, or the way Gareth seemed fine with this. But, something definitely gave you the confidence to go through with this.

“Look, we-“ Gareth started, before you stepped towards him, pushing him against the back of the door. You leaned in and kissed him roughly, moving your arms to his biceps, holding onto them for balance.

He groaned into the kiss, his arms moving around your waist as they rested on your ass cheeks gently. He squeezed them a little, swallowing the moan you left in his mouth. You pulled away from the kiss, looking up at him. He looked down at you, sighing as he continued to squeeze your ass.

“Is this okay?” You asked softly. He nodded, breathlessly.

“Yes, fuck, please,” he begged softly, looking at you. “More than okay. Please kiss me again.” He breathed out. “And again, fuck,” he sighed. “God, I just, I need you.”

You sighed, relishing in the way he sounded, begging. For more. For you.

You leaned closer, kissing his lips again. A small whine escaped his lips as his hands moved to your hips, holding you tightly. Your hands moved to his neck, playing with the small curls at the base of his neck.

You tugged on his curls gently as your lips moved against his, his lips parting gently to let out a soft groan. Your tongue darted into his mouth, exploring it as he continued to gasp and groan, pulling your body closer to his.

His now rock hard cock rubbed against your thigh, causing you to groan as you tugged on his curls with a bit more force, another whine escaping his lips.

“Fuck, baby, please,” he whined, grinding his hips against your thigh. “You, ah, you have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he closed his eyes, resting his head against the door softly as he continued to grind against your thigh.

“Someone’s eager,” you teased, kissing down his jaw gently to his neck. You trailed kisses down to his neck, biting the skin gently as your dominant hand trailed down his chest and stomach, stopping directly over his hard on. You squeezed it gently, palming him through his pants.

He moaned loudly, bucking his hips towards your hand as you continued to palm him. “Ah, baby,” he breathed, closing his eyes as he continued to move against your palm. “Please,” he was cut off by a moan as you bit down on his neck a little rougher this time. You nibbled and sucked on the skin, creating a small purple mark. “Fuck, yeah, mark me up, make everyone know I’m yours, god. Wanna be yours.” He babbled on softly.

You left a few more marks on his neck, continuing to palm him through his jeans. He moaned more, moving his hips against your hand, craving some sort of release.

“God, fuck,” he whined. “I’m gonna cum, shit,” he warned, looking down at you.

“You’re gonna cum,” you moved your face closer to his, your lips ghosting his, “in your pants? From my hand?” You asked, looking at him.

He bit his lip and nodded, a bit embarrassed. “Yes,” he said shamefully. “I’m gonna cum in my pants from your hand,” he repeated, speeding up his movements against your hand.

He closed the gap between you two and kissed your lips, groaning into the kiss. You squeezed his cock gently, continuing to palm him. He pulled away from the kiss, the back of his head resting against the door as his hip movements turned sloppy.

“Please,” he begged, eyes shut tightly as he continued to grind into your palm. “Please, baby, please let me cum,” he pleaded, looking at you with lust blown eyes. “Please, I-I can’t take it, want to cum, need to cum.”

You looked up at him, taking in his appearance. He looked pathetic. He was pressed up against your bedroom door, fully clothed as he continued to grind against your hand. A whining, moaning, groaning mess as he begged for you to allow him to cum in his pants.

“You’re going to make a mess, Gare,” you said softly, kissing his neck gently.

“Don’t care,” he replied quickly, shaking his head. “Just, ah, just want to cum.”

“Then cum for me,” you whispered, speeding up your hand movements. He whined loudly, hips sputtering as he finally let go, releasing inside his underwear and pants. His hips continued to move against your hand slowly as he rode out his high. “Mm, good boy,” you mumbled.

You left soft kisses up and down his neck, keeping your hand where it was until he was done. He sighed again, leaning his head back against the door before he looked down at you, a bright red color creeping up his neck and to his cheeks.

“I… I’m sorry,” he said softly, looking down at you. He suddenly felt very embarrassed, very self aware and very sticky; it was quite the feeling for him.

“Hm? For?” You asked, kissing his lips softly.

“Please, don’t make me say it again,” he begged, looking at you. “I don’t need the reminder of what I just did.”

You giggled, moving your hands to his face gently. “Didn’t know you were so submissive,” you teased.

“God, you’re hot and I’ve had alcohol,” he sighed, “and now, I don’t think I can go back down there,” he added, looking down at the noticeable wet spot in his jeans.

“So, don’t,” you said, kissing him again. “Let’s have some more fun,” you suggested, looking up at him.

“You don’t… like, you don’t think I’m a loser for this?” He asked, looking down at you.

You shook your head, caressing his face gently. “Should I?” You asked, “because, I actually think it’s really hot and I want nothing more than to have you inside of me right now.” He sighed, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Please, how are you so incredibly hot, smart and sweet?” He mumbled against your lips. “I really should clean up, though.” He said, moving his legs as his pants felt stuck to him.

You giggled a little, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. “You know where my bathroom is,” you replied, motioning towards the bathroom attached to your room. He hummed and nodded, having been in the bathroom multiple times. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he waddled to the bathroom to clean himself up.

You shook your head and smiled a little, sitting on your bed.

A few moments later, Gareth walked back out of the bathroom and sat on the bed next to you, “god, that was the most I’ve ever had to clean up,” he sighed, looking at you.

“That’s both extremely gross and extremely hot,” you said, moving towards him. “Now, uh, sit down over there, against the headboard. I want to try something.” You looked at him, watching as he obeyed and did as you said.

“What are you, oh, oh I see,” he mumbled as you crawled onto his lap, straddling his waist. You kissed him, repositioning yourself as you did. You rubbed your clothed core against the wet spot that was still on his pants and his breath hitched, his hands finding your hips. “God,” he groaned into the kiss. “You might actually kill me tonight, and if so, I’m dying a happy, happy man.”

“You’re like, incredibly needy,” you teased him as you pulled away from the kiss, sliding your crop top up and off your body. “And, it’s like really fucking hot but I pictured you to be way more dominant when it came to this,” you added, sliding his shirt up and over his head, tossing it off to the side with yours.

“You’ve pictured sex with me?” He asked, his hands moving up to cup and squeeze your breasts through your bra.

You moaned softly, nodding as you rubbed against him again, sighing softly. “Yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” you said, kissing him again. He kissed you back, deepening the kiss as he continued to paw at your breasts, squeezing them harder this time.

“Don’t let it go to my head?” He asked and reached around and undid your bra, “you let me cum in my pants and didn’t make fun of me; if anything, you’re my dream girl.” He said, looking up at you.

You shook your head, sliding your bra off before you threw it on the floor. “If you want I can tell all the boys,” you replied, leaning in for a kiss as your bare chests touched.

He jumped slightly, feeling the cold metal against his skin. He looked down, eyes widening as he ran his fingers across your nipples gently. “Piercings?” He asked, looking up at you as he continued to rub over your nipples and play with the silver metal that sat in them. “You have nipple piercings?” He groaned out, squeezing your boobs again.

You moaned and sighed, biting your lip. “Yeah, so what?” You asked, looking at him.

“So what? So, that’s like so totally hot, my god you are just, fuck,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Just when I think you couldn’t get more perfect you pull out new surprises,” he mumbled, kissing your lips as he continued to squeeze your breasts. “Wait,” he breathed out as he pulled away from the kiss. “Can I kiss them?” He asked, looking down at your breasts.

You bit your lip and nodded, “yeah, of course,” you said softly. “You can do anything you want to me,” you added, letting out a small whine as he kissed down your neck and collarbones, kissing over your breasts. He kissed down your left breast, kissing over your nipple before he stopped and sucked on it gently, his tongue darting around the cool metal in his mouth. He closed his eyes, humming against your skin as he continued to suck and kiss your nipple.

You moaned again, rubbing against him subconsciously as you moved your hand to his hair, tugging on his curls gently. He groaned against you, moving his hips up to meet yours, rubbing against you in sync with you.

“Fuck,” you moaned again, tugging on his hair. “Is your plan to get me to cum in my pants too?” You asked, sighing as you closed your eyes.

He pulled away from your breast with a popping sound, kissing back up your neck and jaw. “No,” he replied, “I’d much rather see you cum on my cock,” he added, kissing your lips. “Please.”

You pulled away from the kiss and stood up, shedding your jeans and panties, now standing completely naked in front of him. He looked at you, groaning as he eyed you up and down, his hand moving down to palm his cock through his jeans. You smirked, watching him as you grabbed a condom from your bedside table.

“If you undress I’ll be able to be on your cock,” you said, watching continue to palm himself. “Unless, of course, you want to cum in your pants again,” you teased.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?” He sighed undoing his pants and boxers, kicking them off and onto the floor.

“Probably not, no,” you answered, crawling back to his lap. You opened the condom, reaching down to pump his cock a couple of times before you slid the condom on him. He groaned, his hips bucking as he thrusted into your hand. “Damn, dude, that’s just my hand,” you giggled as you repositioned yourself over him. You held his cock, gliding the tip through your wet folds, causing a louder moan to escape Gareth’s lips.

“Please,” he sighed, looking at you. “Please, need to be inside you, need to feel you around me, need to make you feel good,” he begged, moving his hips up as he tried to move inside of you.

“Well, I guess since you asked so nicely,” you replied, slowly sinking down on him with a gasp. “Fuck, Gare, you’re so big,” you breathed out, lowering yourself onto him completely. You sighed, letting yourself adjust to him as his hands moved to your hips, holding you in place. “God, you’re so big and fuck, you fill me up,” you said softly, leaving a soft kiss on his lips. He whined against your lips, his cock twitching inside of you. “You like that?” You asked, looking at him.

He nodded, closing his eyes as you slowly started moving your hips, “mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips tighter. “Like being called good, like being praised,” he gasped as you moved more, slowly moving up before you moved back down on him completely.

"Yeah?" You asked, looking at him. He bit his lip and nodded, helping you move up and down on his cock with his hands.

"Yeah.." he sighed, his eyebrows furrowing as he helped you move; his movements going perfectly with yours.

"Well, you're such a good boy," you moaned out, your fingers tangling through his hair as you leaned in. You kissed his lips roughly, his lips moving against yours desperately as he moved his dominant hand down between your bodies. His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles over it as you continued to bounce on his cock. A loud moan escaped your lips, your kisses against his lips getting sloppier. "Fuck, Gare," you whined, moving your hips faster. "I'm gonna cum."

"Mhm," he mumbled, rubbing more circles as he moved his lips back to your nipples. He kissed and sucked again, groaning against your nipple as you clenched around his cock. "Please, cum for me," he mumbled. "Wanna see you cum on my cock, please," he begged.

You moaned again, the feeling all too much as you felt the familiar feeling in your stomach. Gareth's mouth on your nipple, his fingers rubbing circles on your clit and his cock stretching you out... it was all so much; but it felt so good.

You made a couple more movements before you moaned loudly, fingernails digging into Gareth's biceps to hold yourself upright as your orgasm ripped through you. You moaned his name and rode out your high, releasing around his cock. He groaned, looking up at you as he moved his hips up, whining against your nipple.

"Fuck, baby, I'm gonna cum," he groaned, the feeling of your nails digging into this skin driving him over the edge.

"Cum for me, fuck, be a good boy," you mumbled, moving your hips a little more. He whined, bucking his hips up as he released into the condom, moaning and groaning your name.

"Fuck, baby, god," he groaned, riding out his high. "God, I love you." He mumbled, his head falling back against the headboard. Your head whipped up, looking at him.

"You, what?" You asked, continuing to sit on his cock as you looked at him.

"Hmm?" He asked, looking at you with an exhausted expression. What he had said finally hit him before he looked at you with a red face. "I, uh, I love you." He said softly.

"I love you too," you responded immediately, leaning in for another kiss.

He smiled, kissing you back. "Be mine?" He mumbled against your lips.

"Always," you replied, smiling softly.

"That was more than 7 minutes, you know," he teased softly, looking at you as he pushed your hair back behind your ear gently.

"Yeah, whatever," you giggled.

[harrywavycurly]

Secret Rendezvous Part 16: No Promises

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @emma-munson @aol19 @tlclick73 @prestinalove @kailey-firefly @fromasgardandback @therealgothamguardianfr @peaches-roses-sins @hiscrimsonangel @furiousladyking @angelina16torres-blog @sofaritsalrightt @josephquinnsfreckles @starrywhitenight @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @jasminelafleur @ohmeg @comeonatmebruh @missmarch-99 @arthurcerverogf @disassociationdive @123iloveyou456 @perplexing-vex

A/N: We love our Gare Bear, enjoy✨