#gareth emerson fanfiction

[bookshelf-dust]

I'M HERE TO REQUEST AGAIN

this is going to be a bit angsty, but it's hurt/comfort. basically while he's in class some guys make fun of him by saying he's way out of reader's league and he gets self-conscious. reader and the Hellfire table notices he's not talking much at lunch so reader goes to talk to him (established relationship)

hope this wasn't too specific!<33 (don't worry about rushing the writing, enjoy the process!!)

glittery curls

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 1,426

warnings: swearing, patrick and jason’s goons being assholes, angst, comfort, fluff

a/n: hi sweetheart! thank you for requesting. i’m so sorry it took me a little while and i hope that’s okay! this is a sweet idea and please don’t worry about it being too specific—it’s perfect like always! and thank you for being sweet about not rushing. i appreciate that more than you know <3

————

“Bend down a little, Gare.”

“Whatever you say, your highness.”

He has glitter in his hair. The girls had a project due, and Gareth, being the loving brother that he is, offered his services. You’ve been picking chunks and flecks of glitter out of his hair for three days. He claims to have washed it since, too.

He bends a little at the waist so that you can see his hair more clearly. You use your nails to grab at a piece of purple glitter from the roots of his hair.

“Kiss my ass, Emerson.”

He pinches your side at that remark and you let out a small squeal before presenting the glitter to him, a victorious look on your face. Gareth quirks a brow, examining the intruder, and then you wipe your finger off on his shirt before turning to go to your next class.

He catches your hand before you get too far. “Hey, hey, hey, where’s my kiss?”

Gareth “demands goodbye kisses” Emerson.

You pretend to be annoyed at the premise, and he pouts so hard you bring both hands to his face, apologizing repeatedly.

“Here, here!” You kiss him, short and sweet (you are in school, after all). He tastes like strawberries. You wonder if he had some for breakfast.

“Thank you,” he says. You plant another on his nose before leaving him to it.

Gareth adjusts the bag on his shoulder and turns to head into his classroom.

“That’s just sad, man.”

Gareth wouldn’t have thought anyone was talking to him if it weren’t for the closeness of the voice. He turns his head, finding Patrick staring at him. Andy and Jason linger further behind.

“I’m sorry?” Gareth’s tone changes into something much more serious, deeper even, than what he’d been using with you.

“You, dude. You’re totally head over heels for them, and they’re way out of your league.”

Patrick turns to watch you at the very end of the hallway, where you turn a corner and then you’re out of sight. He shakes his head. “It’s just depressing, man.”

Gareth feels his face warming. “What are you talking about, McKinney?”

Patrick laughs, and it doesn’t do anything but heighten Gareth’s frustration. He doesn’t understand where this is coming from.

“You and them,” Patrick says, nodding towards where you’d walked away. “You looked lovesick, and that’s just weird to me because the two of you make absolutely no sense.” Andy chuckles, and Gareth shoots him a look. He quiets.

“They’re pretty damn smart, and could be friends with anyone they want, but pick you and your group of freaks? Yeah, that just doesn’t check out, man. It’s probably best if you save yourself the trouble and dump ‘em now. That way you won’t have to deal with it when they realize the truth.”

Gareth decides he’s had enough of this shit. “Fuck you, man. Why don’t you mind your own business? Last time I checked, your last girlfriend cheated on you with Andy, so I really don’t think you have any reason to be giving me relationship advice.”

He pushes past the other boys and into the classroom, heading straight for his seat in the back against the wall.

Gareth barely hears a word of the lecture he’s supposed to be paying attention to. He’s amazed that he even manages to take notes.

Patrick’s comments race through his mind, over and over again. They pick at his every insecurity, his every vulnerability.

What if he’s right? You’re fucking insanely smart, Gareth thinks. You could be with anyone you wanted, and he knows that. Up until that conversation, Gareth thought your choosing him had meant something. That he was special. That his friends were special, and they were all worth more than whatever the people at school thought.

Now he’s not so sure.

He tries to distract himself from his buzzing mind by paying extra attention in his classes. It only partially works. All he can think about is that maybe you really are way out of his league.

Gareth gets to the Hellfire table at lunch before you do. He sits down beside Jeff, who’s too busy arguing with Mike about something to notice that something’s wrong.

You, however, clock it before you even take your seat. His arms are crossed and he’s bouncing his knee. He’s not laughing or splitting a cheese stick with Dustin. Something’s wrong with your boy.

Eddie seems to have noticed it too. He hasn’t sat yet, but he’s walking to the table just as you are, and shoots you a look over Gareth’s head. One that says, you seein’ this? You nod.

Eddie’s known Gareth long enough to know that when he gets quiet, he’s frustrated. Gareth being quiet is never a good thing. When he’s sad, he talks about it, and he might be a bit downcast, but he’s still Gareth.

Eddie has witnessed many a Gareth outburst, and they aren’t usually pretty. He knows you can handle it though. You’re exceptionally good at calming him down.

You slide into your seat, and Gareth doesn’t even look at you. You decide to take it easy.

You rub your thumb across the bare expanse of arm under his sleeve. That gets his attention. He turns to look at you. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” You keep rubbing his arm. “You okay?”

Gareth uncrosses his arms and sits up in his chair. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Emerson,” you say, keeping your voice low as to not cause a scene. He turns his head to look at you. You only use his last name when he’s being a pain in the ass. The thing is, Gareth doesn’t really give a shit if he’s being an ass right now.

He doesn’t feel like arguing with you. He’s too upset. Gareth is quiet for the rest of lunch, and he avoids you the rest of the day. It’s not until you drive over to his house after school that you get a chance to ask him what’s wrong.

He lets you in and leads you to his room without a word. “Gareth,” you start, “will you please tell me what’s wrong? I really don’t like seeing you like this.”

He tosses his head back, exasperated. “And you think I like feeling like this?”

“I know you don’t Gare, but I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

Gareth takes one look at you, giving your most pleading and sincere eyes, and he’s done for. He runs both of his hands down his face and sits on the edge of his bed.

“After you went to class this morning? Patrick showed up and told me that the two of us being together doesn’t make sense.”

“What?” You ask, quickly becoming upset.

“He said that you’re way out of my league and too good for me and that someday you’re going to realize that I’m a piece of shit and you shouldn’t have chosen me.”

You realize his eyes are glossy and you rush to crouch in front of him, hands on his forearms. They’re warm under the tips of your fingers.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t listen to any of his shit okay?”

“Stop,” Gareth says.

“What do you mean?” You don’t understand.

“I mean that I’m in love with you and they’re telling me that this is bullshit, that you don’t care and that you’re just going to leave me at some point and so I’m upset—”

“What?” You cut him off.

“Huh?” Gareth doesn’t realize what he says for a second. “Shit.”

You stare up at him.

“I’ve never said that before,” he tells you.

“No,” you shake your head. That knocked the breath right out of you. “But before you say anything else, I am not going to just up and leave you or something, Gareth. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I chose you because you’re the best boy in the world. And because I love you, too.”

The boy in question smiles at you.

“You love me too?” He asks shyly.

You bring a hand to his cheek, and he leans into the touch.

“Yeah. And it’s okay to be upset, Gare, because he was being an asshole, but I would never leave you, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, nodding. Gareth wraps his arms around you and practically scoops you up.

“Sweetheart,” you say after a moment, pulling away from him. He looks at you, confused.

“You’ve still got glitter in your hair.”

He drops his head to your shoulder. “Dammit.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[tbmunson]

Escape - Gareth Emerson x Reader pt.2

Summary: You attend Corroded Coffin's practice and feelings are confessed.

Warnings: Talks about diet, talks about absentee parents... A little steam but not much, yet.

Word Count: 5,619

Notes: Honestly this is less slow burn than I intended, but we're not there yet. Thank you guys for your patience in my writing. I'm a perfectionist and I like to make sure everything is done right

Taglist: @depressedacidtest @nana90azevedo @alanamarie @lizzziekatt and of course @ashes-writing Bestie you are the love of my life. Thank you so much for always being there and helping me. You're amazing.

1 / 2 / 3

Once you’d gotten up to your room last night you did as you promised and called Gareth. Though it had been a short conversation, you learned a little more about him, like he actually enjoyed watching his sisters and he volunteers to watch them on Friday’s because, and you quote, “I’m their best friend, they don’t need some random teen that doesn’t know or care about them to watch them.” That line made you smile a little.

Gareth picked up on how much you enjoyed watching his sisters too and that made it harder to convince himself that you were too opposite and it would never work. Once he hung the phone up by the kitchen door he went up to his room to get ready for bed. His eyes went immediately to the pile of clothes at the end of his bed. More specifically, the pale pink bra. He stood frozen in the doorway of the room, just looking at it. Many thoughts raced through his head, the most prominent being you’d been in his shirt without a bra on for the last hour and a half, as if his previous fantasy needed anymore fuel. He let out a shaky breath and stepped over to the heap, debating on what to do with it. The perv in his brain told him to pick it up, keep it, and never give it back. You left it after all. The rational part told him to fold your shirt, put it in his chair, and hide the bra under it so he wasn’t tempted to let the perv part win.

He went with the second option, although the feeling of the silk and lace between his fingers had the perv side going insane. He still put the bra into the folded cotton and went to bed.

Gareth was woken by the sound of knocking on his bedroom door. He knew his parents took his sisters to Lori’s gymnastics competition in Indianapolis so he wasn’t sure who it could be. “Yeah?” He called out, which was answered by the door swinging open and a smug looking Eddie walking in.

“How was your date, Emerson?” He quirked a brow as he walked across the room to sit in the chair.

“Whoa! Don’t sit there!” Gareth jumped up and made it over to the chair to move your clothes from it.

“I sit on your clothes all the time in that chair.” Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend and finally sat down.

Gareth settled at the end of his bed and held the neatly folded fabric up. “Not mine.”

Eddie’s brows raised but what dropped his jaw was the bra falling out of the cotton. “Dude! Did you guys..?”

Gareth scrambled and grabbed the item in question before shoving it under his comforter. “No! No, we didn’t. She uh, she helped give the girls a bath and got splashed. I gave her one of my shirts.” And he knew he shouldn’t have said it because as soon as the words left his mouth Eddie’s face split into the biggest grin Gareth had ever seen.

“You gave her the Crue shirt, didn’t you?”

Gareth turned so red that he was practically glowing like the neon signs around town.

“Didn’t you?” Eddie prodded, leaning closer with the most shit-eating grin he’d ever had.

“Stop talking, Ed.”

“I knew it!” Eddie yelled as he pointed and pushed himself back into the chair excitedly, his boot clad feet stomping the floor repeatedly.

“Fuck off. Where are Jeff and Grant? Aren’t we supposed to be practicing?” Gareth stood and walked over to his closet.

“We’re supposed to be practicing at 12. It’s 11.” Eddie pointed to the alarm clock on his side table.

Gareth groaned and flopped back onto the bed. “Then why are you here?”

“Gareth, I'm nosy. And more than that, I like to prove I’m right. I told a certain someone we were practicing today and that she should come by.”

As if on cue the doorbell rang, signaling someone’s arrival.

“I hate you.” Gareth grumbled, getting out of bed again. He opened the door and just about had to pick his jaw up from the floor.

You stood there in the shirt he’d given you last night, only now there was a knot tied in it just above your belly button. You’d paired it with a pair of jean shorts that were cut dangerously high and a pair of white sneakers. What caught his attention the most was the red plaid bandana wrapped around your head to keep the baby hairs that fell out of your bun at bay. It was the same red plaid of his battle vest. “Morning, sleepy head.” You smiled, lightly glossed lips shining in the sun.

“Morning.” He replied almost breathlessly.

Eddie came up behind him and smirked. “Nice shirt, short stuff.”

You beamed and looked down. “Thanks. Gareth let me borrow it. My mom won’t let me have one because Crue is ‘unholy’ or some shit.”

Gareth couldn’t see your eyes roll due to the sunglasses on your face, but he knew they had by the tone in your voice. “You actually listen to them?” He was surprised to say the least.

“There’s a lot that you don’t know about me. I’m more than short skirts and pom poms.” You reached out and patted his chest as you stepped into the house, brushing your body with his as you did so.

Gareth tried, he really did, to keep himself at bay. He was unsuccessful. “I need to go shower. Eddie, entertain, please.” He was pleading, which gave Eddie an ungodly amount of satisfaction.

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie’s face was taken over by a shit-eating grin.

Gareth groaned and walked away. He regretted giving you the shirt and even more so, asking Eddie to hang out with you because who knew what he was going to say.

“Eddie, what am I doing here so early? He obviously just woke up.” You asked as you settled onto the sofa.

Eddie shrugged, sprawling himself over the recliner. “Figured I’d give you two some extra time together. Get to know each other more, for the project, of course.”

You knew he was lying, or at least not telling you the full truth. You thought about calling him out on it, but you also didn’t want to be wrong, let alone have Gareth hear that you liked him. “Thanks, buddy.” You replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes.

The two of you sat silent for no more than a minute before you spoke again.

“Can we smoke later?”

“The Princess of Hawkins partakes in the devil’s tobacco?” Eddie raised a brow at you, honestly stunned at the request.

You laughed and shook your head. “Never have, but I think it’ll be fun. I hear it lets your true self out and I kind of want a reason to get some heavy shit off of my chest.”

“Gonna let your secrets spill, Princess?”

“I don’t have secrets, just things not everyone knows.” You replied, picking at your nails before looking up to Eddie’s smirking face. “Grow up Munson. You’re not right about everything, okay?”

“But I’m right about this.” He replied, pushing himself to stand so he could walk into the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”

You rolled your eyes and got up to follow him. “You’re smug, you know that?”

He laughed as he grabbed two cups from the cabinet. “I can afford to be smug, Sweetheart.”

“Just don’t say anything else about it.” You rested your elbows on the counter and watched Eddie scoop the ice into the cups.

“So, I’m right and I can’t say anything about it.” He pretended to think hard about it before speaking again. “Fine, but you're both stupid and blind.”

“You really know how to make a woman swoon, don’t you Munson.” You pushed off of the counter and grabbed one of the cups. “It’ll happen if and when it’s supposed to. Don’t meddle in it.”

“I won’t, but it’s so obvious, just so you know.”

“What’s obvious?” Gareth walked into the kitchen scrubbing his head with a faded blue towel.

Eddie glanced at you before looking at Gareth. “The Princess's crush.”

“Munson.” You glared at him, eyes squinted in a way that dared him to say another word.

Gareth nodded and walked through to drop the towel in the laundry room, leaving you to glare at Eddie until he returned. “Well, that’s her business.”

“See!” You more or less yelled, glad Gareth wasn’t going to press for details.

Eddie rolled his eyes and jumped up on the counter as he mumbled something about “blind and delusional” under his breath.

It was your turn, again, to roll your eyes.

Gareth walked back out and rested against the counter as he looked between the two of you. “Well it looks like you two had a great time. Scowling is usually a good sign right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, frown turning up into a smile and eyes lighting up. “Yeah, absolutely. He just thinks he’s right all the time.”

“Oh, I know exactly what you mean, Doll.” Gareth chuckled, sending you a smile that made you melt.

Before anything else could be said the front door swung open and the two other members of Hawkins most metal band walked in.

“My men! We ready to get started?” Eddie asked, drawing all of the attention to himself.

Grant and Jeff share a confused look which made you laugh a little. It was obvious that they hadn’t expected you to be sitting on the kitchen island with Gareth leaning next to you.

Gareth, who gained bravery by his friends' presence, pushed himself up and rested his hand on your thigh. “Ready?” He asked, giving it a quick squeeze.

You swallowed down the whimper you wanted to let out and nodded.

Gareth gave you another squeeze before offering you a hand to help you down, which you took before mumbling a small “Thank you” to him. He rested his hand on the small of your back to lead you to the detached garage where their practice was held. “There’s a couch if you wanna sit.” He nodded to the old floral couch that had no doubt been in the house previously.

“Thanks, Gare.” You smiled as you stepped away from him. You settled onto the couch as he and the boys took their places to start practice. You watched Gareth twirl the drumstick in his hand and subconsciously squeezed your thighs together, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Eddie.

“So I think we can start with the cover of Live Wire. Yeah?” Eddie looked around as the boys nodded in response.

You loved that song, it was the one you played and danced to alone every time your parents were out. You bobbed your head and mouthed the words along with Eddie but your eyes stayed on Gareth, watching the sweat glisten off of his cheeks and nose and how his hair bounced as he headbanged along.

Gareth felt your eyes on him the whole time which encouraged him to do his best to impress you, making this one of the best practices they’d had in a while.

Once practice was over and they started packing up Eddie watched Gareth walk over to the couch, pick your feet up and sit with your feet in his lap. Gareth rested his hand on your shin, rubbing his thumb over the smooth skin. “I think you’re our good luck charm, Princess. These fools haven’t made it through a practice without a fuck up in weeks.” Eddie smirked, carefully carrying his guitar case out of the garage.

“I’d be happy to watch you guys anytime.” You replied before turning your attention to Gareth. “You were amazing, Gare. Watching you is fun, the way you get so into it. Like nothing else matters. That’s passion.” You wanted to tell him how attractive it was, but you held off on that for the moment.

“Thanks. I love it. It gets the emotions I don’t know how to express out in the open somehow.” He squeezed your leg, something you could get used to for sure.

You giggled and sat up to scoot closer with your legs still over his lap. “That’s really deep. I’m glad you have a way to express everything on the inside. It gives me an idea for our project.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” He reached over with his other hand and tucked a loose hair behind your ear.

“Well, I think most people are going to just do something that shows the other person. I think we should do ours to show we’re the same, but we present differently. Like on the outside you’re this scary metal head that’s into the dark and scary stuff and doesn’t care about anything but on the inside you’re sweet and funny and caring. And I’m the opposite. On the outside I’m all sunshine and rainbows and happiness but on the inside I like all the same dark and scary stuff you do. So I propose that we do paintings. Mine for you would be dark around the edges and as it fades into the middle it gets lighter and happier. And yours for me is the opposite. I’ll be all dark on the inside but it gets lighter and brighter as you go out.” You explained, waving your hands and changing your face in ways that Gareth thought was absolutely adorable.

“That sounds really great. We could do actual rainbows for the color and fade it all into each other and use the whole scale from lighter pastel shades to the darker ones.” He replied, hand resting on the side of your thigh close to your knee, far enough down to be respectful.

You squealed and threw your arms around him. “That’s genius. I was thinking we would just use our favorite colors but that gives it so much more depth! Like every color provokes an emotion and no one feels the same all the time. I just know ours is going to be the best.” You hadn’t even realized that in the process of hugging him you had drug yourself more into his lap, in turn making his hand slide up your thigh. When you did realize it, you made no move to separate or create any kind of distance.

Gareth didn’t either, he instead looped his free arm around your back to keep you close. “You’re the genius, Doll. You came up with the idea, I just built on it.”

You looked up at him and smiled before resting your head on his shoulder. “Stop it. I’m not good at taking compliments.” You mumbled before hiding your face in his neck.

He chuckled and rested his head on yours. “Hey, the truth is the truth.” It’s all he could think to say that wasn’t over stepping any imaginary boundaries that might be set.

The two of you were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t notice Natalie’s car driving by or the way she was watching you cuddle up to Gareth. But Eddie noticed. And he watched her drive by, flipping her off when she noticed him. 

“Well, Princess, looks like your cheer buddies are gonna hate you on Monday.” He stated as he walked into the garage, seeing what Natalie must have seen to cause the twisted look on her face.

You lifted your head and dragged one of your arms from around Gareth’s neck. “Fuck ‘em. There’s five weeks left in the school year and I’ll never see those uppity bitches again.” You replied with yet another roll of your eyes. It was one of the habits you’d picked up from the cheer team and the only one you didn’t mind. Attitude could be a great asset.

“Whoa, Princess, those are some really mean words. Didn’t know you were so angry.” Eddie teased lightly.

“I’m just sick of being told what I can and can’t do. Who I can and can’t hang out with.” You sighed, resting your head once again on Gareth’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be, Doll.” He pulled you the rest of the way into his lap and held you as the other two members joined you in the garage.

“What’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Jeff asked, stuffing his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.

“My parents will be getting home with the girls soon. They’re gonna throw a fit to show me the routines so I’m stuck here. You guys are welcome to stay and hang though.” Gareth said, resting his chin on your head. The scent of your shampoo was intoxicating to him.

Grant and Jeff shared a look. 

“Yeah I think we’ll go hit up the mall for a little bit and come back later. You coming, Ed?” Grant asked as Jeff fished the car keys from his pocket.

“Yeah, but we’ll come back for Princess’s first smoke sesh tonight.” Eddie said as he reached out to flip the hoop in your ear.

You raised your hand and flipped him off, which caused Gareth to laugh a little.

“Sounds good.” Gareth then looked down at you. “You staying or going?”

“I’ll stay. I’d love to see the girls and we can start on the project since we have an idea.” You replied with a smile before turning your attention to the other guys. “You guys are really great, by the way. Like I know the people I hang out with are assholes to you so I’m thankful you didn’t just write me off with them.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You stopped them from coming after us more times than we can count. We knew you weren’t like them.” Jeff said, twirling the keys around his finger.

“Yeah, you hung with who you did for survival. It’s not like you were the one chasing the freshmen down in your car.” Grant stated, which caught your attention.

“I’m sorry, what? Who chased them down in their car?”

The guys shared a look, one that said he probably shouldn’t have said that. “Jason, Andy, and I think Tiffany and Natalie were in Jason’s Jeep last week and the freshmen were biking home.”

You nodded, deep in thought about what exactly you would say come Monday morning practice. None of it was pretty.

“I think on that note, we’re gonna head out.” Eddie clapped his hand over Grant’s shoulder and the three of them walked off towards Jeff’s car.

“You didn’t tell me about that.” You said softly, turning to look at Gareth.

“I know, but the kids didn’t want anyone to know. It hasn’t happened again, and if it had I promise I would have told you. The kids were embarrassed, I think.”

You nodded and moved to stand, only Gareth’s grip on your hips tightened and he pulled you back down, making you giggle a bit. ”Gare, we gotta go get the painting stuff.”

His arms wrapped around you, keeping you pressed to him. “I know, but this is really comfortable.”

You couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Eddie had been right. Maybe Gareth did like you. Maybe it would be okay that you liked him. You laughed when he buried his face into your neck and relaxed into him.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, thoughts buzzing around your heads about the other.

You ran your hand down his arm before you slipped your fingers through his. “You know once the girls get here we aren’t going to be able to go.” You hummed into his ear as you squeezed his hand in yours.

“I know. They’re gonna take you away from me.” He mumbled into your neck. He felt the way your lips morphed into a smile against his ear. “But I bet you like them more, huh? It’s not like you cut up my food for me last night.” He teased, snuggling into you a bit more.

His voice vibrated against the sensitive part of your neck causing you to sucks in a fast breath, which he didn’t miss. “I would have fed it to you if you'd have asked.” You moved so your lips were against his ear. “I’d do anything if you asked.” You smiled, hoping more now than ever that Eddie was right and not just saying it.

Gareth picked his head up and looked down at you. “All I have to do is ask, hm?”

You nodded and opened your mouth to reply, only to be cut off by the sound of a car coming into the driveway. “Well, looks like we missed our opportunity for a quick escape.” You chuckled, moving just enough to get off of his lap and settle next to him. You didn’t miss the pout on his face when you moved.

He laughed at the joke and watched the girls run from the car, yelling about how Lori’s team won their division and showing off her sash.

“Ooh! You look fancy with that, girly. Why don’t you show me your favorite trick!” You beamed at them.

Lori took her sash off and handed it to you before showing you back walkover.

“Wow! That was perfect, baby doll! What about you, lil bit? Are you in gymnastics?”

Clara perked up at her new nickname and nodded before she did a cartwheel.

“You guys are so good. You’re way better than I was at that age.” You smiled as they climbed onto the couch.

Gareth watched you with pure adoration.

“Can you do tricks?” Clara asked, looking up from her spot on your leg.

You smiled and tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “I actually can. I do gymnastics on Mondays and Wednesdays after school. It helps with cheerleading.” You replied, watching the girls' faces light up.

“Can you show us something? Please!” Lori asked, latching onto your hand.

As much as you would have loved to, the jean shorts you were wearing were so tight, you thought you wouldn’t be able to move properly. “I can’t right now because I’m not wearing the right clothes, baby doll. But when Gareth and I get back from the supply store, I’ll show you a few things. I promise.” You held up your pinky to her.

She wrapped hers around yours and smiled. “Okay!”

Gareth slipped his hand behind your back and rubbed his thumb up and down the exposed skin between the shirt and your shorts. “Why don’t you guys let us go ahead and go so we can come back faster? Huh?”

“Okay bubby!” Clara said, sliding down from your lap and reaching out for her sister's hand, which Lori took.

“We’ll see you guys in a little bit!” You called after the girls as they made their way inside.

Gareth, against his better judgment, wrapped his arms around you and settled his chin onto your shoulder. “You’re so great with them. They love you.” He said in a low voice that sent chills down your body, which he noticed and smirked at.

“I love them too. They’re the sweetest kids.” You replied, resting your hand on his.

“I love them, but I can’t wait to have my own, you know?” His hand subconsciously rested on your stomach for a moment as he pulled his hands back.

You watched him stand up, lost for words for a moment as images of Gareth and your kids playing in the yard swam through your head. “You want a big family?” You asked, taking his hand that was waiting.

He nodded, letting you pull yourself up. “Yeah, four or five, maybe more. There’s just something about taking care of another person, showing them how to be people that gets me.” He looked down at you, a soft smile on his face. “What about you?”

You nodded, resting your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself up. “Yeah, I want a huge family and a job so I’ll always be around. My parents are always gone on business and I never get to see them.” You explain, with a bit of a somber look.

“You’re going to be an amazing mother one day. Any kid would be lucky to have you, Doll.” Gareth instinctively wrapped his arms around your body and rocked you a bit.

You buried your face into his neck and fought the urge to kiss the skin under your lips. “Thanks, Gare.” You slowly pulled away from him and smiled. “You ready to go?” You asked as you gripped his hand in yours.

“Yeah, Doll. Let’s go.”

***

Once the two of you finished gathering the supplies you decided to go back to your place to paint since it would be quiet.

“So, the spare office is my studio. Upstairs, end of the hall to the left.” You said as you opened the door. “I’ll grab us some snacks and bring them up.” You smiled as he looked around.

“I’ll go get set up. See you in a bit.” He almost stepped up to kiss the top of your head, but he caught himself. He went up the stairs and into the room you’d directed him to. Paintings and drawings hung around the room. He took time looking at each one, stopping on a pencil drawing of him. He smiled, knowing that you’d looked at him long enough to draw him.

You made your way into the room with a tray of small sandwiches, grapes, and a sleeve of Oreos. “It’s probably not the best combo, but it makes my brain work.” You followed his eyes and blushed. “Oh, um…”

Gareth turned and smiled at you. “It’s really good. When did you do it?” He reached out and took the tray for you.

“Last year, chemistry. I finished an exam early and the way the light was hitting you was perfect. I’m sorry if that’s creepy.” You cringed a bit, clutching the Oreos tighter.

“It looks great. You got my good angle.” He said, looking over at you.

“Thank you.” Your voice was small, timid.

“What’s wrong?” He stepped over and put his hands on your upper arms.

You scanned the floor and shrugged. “I guess I’m just not used to people telling me my art looks good. When I was a kid I’d show my parents and their response was usually ‘That’s nice honey.’ and then they would go back to whatever they were doing. It’s just different I guess?” You explained, bringing your eyes to finally meet his. “Plus, I don’t want you to think I’m some weirdo for drawing you.”

Gareth couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped at your last comment. “I’m flattered you decided to draw me. You have a real talent for this stuff, Doll. You just have to find the right people to appreciate it.”

You smiled up at him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Thank you.” Everything inside of you was telling you to kiss him, but you stopped yourself.

“Any time, sweet thing.” He couldn’t have stayed like that for hours, your body pressed against his, your scent lingering around him.

“C’mon, let's get started on these canvases.” You smiled as you hesitantly pulled back.

He nodded and let go of you to empty the bags filled with tubes of paint, brushes, and palettes.

“Do you mind if I put on some music? It helps me focus.” You looked over at him from next to the small stereo.

“Yeah, go ahead.” He was organizing the tubes so that it matched the color wheel, making it easier to grab what was needed. He was a little shocked when Quiet Riot started playing through the speaker. “She just keeps getting better and better.” He mumbled as he watched you bob your head to the beat as you began setting up the canvases on easels.

“Come on, feel the noise. Girls, rock your boys. We’ll get wild wild wild.” You sang under your breath as you measured the canvas, looking for the exact middle. When you marked it, you worked your way around making lines that lead from the middle to the edge, to make sure the brush stroked wouldn’t look wonky and crooked. When the lines were done you grabbed an Oreo and marked where the colors would fade into one another and transition from darker to lighter.

Gareth sat back and watched you, deciding that he would marry you on the spot if you would have asked. The focus on your face, the attention to detail, the mumbling of one of his favorite bands, even the Oreo that was between your lips and you figured your next mark, it was all driving him crazy in the best way.

“Do you want me to mark yours too?” You asked, peering over at him to see him leaned against the desk with his arms folded over his chest, eyes on you.

“Uh, yeah, if you want. It’ll probably be better, like if we want them the same, you know?” He was nervous that you’d just caught him staring, you didn’t seem to mind as you agreed and went to work on the second canvas, following the marks from your own.

Once you’d finished you walked over to the desk and grabbed one of the sandwiches. “Lunch break, then we’ll get started.

Gareth chucked and grabbed one of his own. “Good, I thought you were just going to have Oreo’s for lunch.”

You laughed and shrugged. “Wouldn’t have been the first time. My diet isn’t the best.” You replied with a smile.

“Mine either. Honestly, last night was going to be pizza, not that Benny’s is any healthier, but that’s on you.” He joked, making you roll your eyes.

“Fine, next time I’ll bring salad and water.” You replied with a teasing smile.

Next time. You wanted there to be a next time. “You can bring whatever you want as long as you come back.” He replied before popping a grape into his mouth.

“I’ll come back anytime you want me to.” You don’t know what made you brave enough to say it. Maybe it was the fact that it was just the two of you, or maybe it was because you were tired of keeping your feelings at bay and you just wanted to know how he felt.

“You could live there if you wanted to, I wouldn’t mind. I know the girls wouldn’t either.” He reached over and grabbed your hand, which you took and let him pull you close.

“You mean that?”

“Yeah, Doll. Can I be honest with you?”

You nodded and looked up at him.

“I like you. A lot. I have for a really long time. I’m sorry if that makes this weird.”  He looked down at your hands that were intertwined with his.

You smiled and let go of his hands, which scared him until he felt your hands on the side of his face. “Thank god. I was gonna go crazy if you didn’t feel the same way.”

His eyes darted up, looking at you, trying to figure out if this was some joke. “Are you serious?”

You rolled your eyes and pulled him to you. “I’m serious.” You whispered, your lips brushing over his.

He grabbed your hips and pressed his lips to yours, savoring the feeling of the kiss along with your hands slipping down his neck and around him, bringing him closer to you.

You felt his tongue lick across your bottom lip, prompting you to open your mouth at the same time his hands slid around your hips and settled into the back pockets of your jean shorts. You whined into his mouth when he squeezed the fat of your ass.

He pressed kisses down your jaw and onto your neck before latching on at the base and leaving a mark that wouldn’t be easily hidden.

“What are you doing?” You asked, words coming out in a rushed breath.

“Making sure everyone knows your mine.” He answered as he pulled back to examine the mark.

You reached up and smiled when your fingers slid over the tinder part. “I thought they would get it when they saw me kissing you in the halls, but I can go for this too.” You giggled, letting that hang drop down to his chest, the other arm was still hooked behind his neck.

“Yeah? So you wanna be my girl, officially?” His hands migrated from your pockets to your sides, thumb running over the exposed skin. 

You nodded and moved to stand on your tiptoes to give his nose a kiss. “Yeah, I do. I always have.” You replied.

“Honestly, I didn’t think that I’d thank Mr. Greely for anything, but I think he deserves a gift or something.” Gareth stated, taking your hand from his chest and slipping his fingers between yours.

“Yeah, I think he does.” You smiled, laughing as Gareth used his hold on your hand to spin you around. “What are you doing?”

“Just seeing what my girl looks like all the way around.” He answered, scanning over you with a satisfied smile.

“Your girl. I like the way that sounds.” Your hand rested on his hip and your eyes flickered between him and your hand. “We would get started, yeah?”

Gareth nodded, mouth gaping open. He was shocked when you pulled away and walked over to the canvas. “Oh, right. Yeah. Let’s do… that.” He took a few deep breaths and followed you to his so you could explain your vision for the pieces.

[hellishchrissy]

hello random gareth/el thought: el experimenting with hairstyles and trying them all out on gareth. her favorite look is definitely the pigtails, she just thinks he looks so sweet 💕

that is all

It's a pretty nice Saturday afternoon, one of those first days of spring that actually feel warm on your skin, and the sunshine is no longer accompanied by a cold breeze. Summer of 1989 is fast approaching, its first rays of light filtering in through the windows of Gareth's mother's garage.

He's back from college for spring break, and though there has been many promises made to his mother about the garage getting cleaned, it's as much of a disaster as before – if not worse. Gareth has assured her, over and over, that this time he’d get to it. Instead, the place is a chaotic mess of empty beer bottles, tangled cables and music gear.

And it’s not like Gareth has a chance to focus on playing his drums for an entire week straight when he’s away at college – he’d barely scraped through his midterms, and a dorm room isn’t exactly a place where you haul a drum set with you.

So here he is now, sitting on his worn-down stool, headphones over his ears while trying to nail down the drums of a Metallica song that’s been looping on his Walkman for the last twenty minutes. His dark brows are furrowed in concentration, head bobbing to the beat, a drop of sweat on his forehead as his hands fly over the drums. But every now and then he misses a beat, and quiet curses fall off his lips. He rewinds the tape.

As if the song itself isn’t challenging enough, there’s another distraction making him miss a beat here and there: El’s standing behind him, her slender fingers in his hair as he plays. Her hands are separating his curls with methodical precision, tugging and grazing at his neck in a way that makes it hard to even hear the song blaring in his ears. She’d done this before – probably hundreds of times – but it’s always a distraction. Today, more so than usual. Her cool fingers send jolts down his spine, making it damn near impossible to keep time.

“El,” Gareth murmurs, tearing the headphones off his ears in a hasty movement. He lens back his head so that he can look up at her standing behind his stool. “You’re distracting me.”

El grins when their eyes meet, but her fingers don’t pause their braiding. “But it looks so good, Gare. You could wear your hair like this at the gig next week.”

Gareth snorts, shaking his head against her hands. A grin tugs at his lips. “Babe, I don’t need to look good for a metal crowd. I just need to be able to play the drums.”

Which sure as fuck is impossible right now, with the way her touch is electrifying his veins.

“You can do both,” El teases, fingers still deftly working over the last section of curls.

Gareth lets out little laugh, low and rough. “You’re seriously overestimating my multitasking abilities here.”

El doesn’t respond, but merely gives him the soft, knowing smile she’s perfected during the years, the one that makes Gareth’s chest warm with affection despite the fact that he’s been lucky enough to witness that damn smile for over two years now. For a moment he just sits there, the headphones hanging loosely around his neck, listening on to El’s quiet humming as her fingers twist his curls—

The drumsticks clatter onto the floor.

And before he can even think twice, Gareth shifts on the stool, twisting around enough to snake an arm around the unsuspecting girl’s waist. He pulls her sideways onto his lap, his other arm wrapping around her to steady her some more. A surprised yelp falls from El’s lips as she falls against him, landing with a quiet little thud. Gareth’s left hand settles instinctively on her thigh, holding her steady as she looks up at him with a laugh that lights up her brown eyes.

“Gare, no, you’re all sweaty—“

“And you’re evil,” Gareth murmurs, leaning downwards. El’s wearing an old band t-shirt of his, worn and stretched out from washing, and the sight of it makes his heart skip a little beat.

El grins up a him, her arm making its way around his neck to pull Gareth downwards. “Am I distracting you now?”

A grin mirroring El’s tugs at Gareth’s lips, his heart thumping against his ribs. “You have no idea,” he mutters.

Gareth’s hand moves up and down her thigh in a way that makes El shiver, his ring-clad fingers brushing against the denim of her shorts. It’s something he’s done hundreds of times before, the gesture familiar, comforting and so, so distracting. El’s breath hitches the way it often does when Gareth’s touch is a little too casual; she swats his hand away with a laugh, her gesture playful.

“You’re trying to get the song right, remember?” She says, her voice soft but firm. Her brown eyes narrow.

Gareth groans, over-dramatic. His forehead drops against her shoulder, the softened fabric of her t-shirt brushing against his cheek. “Yeah well, maybe I care about you more than I care about Metallica.”

El grins, shaking her head. She pushes against his chest with her hand. “Don’t even try. You’re obsessed with Metallica.”

“Well, yes, but I’m obsessed with you more,” he says, half-serious, half-teasing, his light eyes twinkling.

His words make El laugh, her body vibrating in Gareth’s arms. Her hands grab the collar of his flannel, pulling him downwards and onto her lips.

Gareth is grinning against her mouth.

El lingers for a bit before pulling back. “Get back to work,” she commands, her fingers giving his brown curls – now already falling out of the untied braids – a playful tug before she hops off his lap.

Gareth’s eyes follow her, and he wipes a bead of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He bends down to pick up the sticks from the floor. “You’re killing me, Hopper.”

“Maybe you’re just getting rusty.”

Gareth laughs, tilting his head back. “Rusty, huh? Sure, babe. That’s what this is.”

El throws her an amused glance over her shoulder. Gareth pulls the headphones over his ears again, rewinding the familiar song on the Walkman. Metallica’s trashing riffs fill his ears, far too loud for his own good. And though he tears his gaze away from El and forces himself to focus on the drums, he can still feel her touch lingering on his skin. Distracting him, her laugh still echoing in his ears, drowning out the song blaring from the headphones.

God help him, he’s gonna fuck up the song again.

[morganwrites12672]

Gareth Emerson x Harrington! reader where r meets Gareth through Steve's boyfriend Eddie?

I'm kind of confused? Gareth dating Steve's younger sister, okay, that part is a yes. I will totally do it!

Gareth Emerson x Harrington!Reader

Steve and Edie were 'really good friend's. That was what they said. But they looked at each other a bit longer, and Steve no longer went on dates.

He claimed he had given up. Not wanting to start another relationship that was pointless other then sex. Steve and Eddie were dating. They just haven't said so yet.

You weren't going to pressure Steve to admit he wasn't completely straight. He claimed he likes boobies, but you think he likes a bit of cock to.

You were going to Hellfire club right now. Eddie was going to drive you home. You usually waited for him to finish up his campaigns.

And then Steve and Eddie would wait until they thought you were asleep, for Eddie to drive back and then they sneak off together.

Steve would always have slightly red eyes. Definitely from having been high the night before. And you heard him sneaking back in the wee hours of the morning.

"Eddie?" You say as you walk in hellfire club to see Eddie and some of the other members packing up. He smiles and waves you over.

"You're early, I'm almost ready," Eddie says with a smile. You see a boy with curly brown hair that has a light pink tint on his cheeks. And there was, of course, Dustin and Mike.

"Yeah, I got out early. That's what happens when you are Mrs. O'Donnell's favorite student," you say and Eddie groans.

"She just likes you," Eddie says and waves dramatically around. He picks up another mini figure.

"Sorry that I show up to class. And don't bomb every test, oh or I don't completely skip the home work," you smile and Eddie gives you a second glare before he smiles painfully.

"I get good grades, I am present in class, and I actually do the homework," Eddie teases. You smile as you thought of the perfect comeback.

"Sorry that I'm not a third time senior," you reply and Eddie scoffs.

"Yeah, no I walked right into that one," Eddie says and puts his hands up in defiance, "You win this time, little Harrington."

You wink at the curly haired boy who has a blush. He was cute, you couldn't deny that. He blushes and walks over to you.

"I'm Gareth," he says and you both walk over to the other side of the room, away from eddie. Dustin covers and gets Eddie going on some new topic. He mouths a 'you owe me'.

"I'm Yn," you say with a smile. You both engage in some fairly basic small talk until Eddie yells for you to go.

Once he starts driving he starts talking, "You fancy Gareth the Great?" Eddie teases. You groan and reply.

"You fancy my brother," you say. Eddie's jaw drops and he starts to make some smart ass reply, "I know. I hear you pull up to the house every night once you idiots think I'm asleep. I see the way you look at each other, and I hear Steve sneak back into the house," you say with smile.

"How long have you known?" Eddie asks with a sigh, but you don't miss the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Six months," you dead pan. Eddie groans again and mumbles something. He notices you didn't quiet hear him and he repeats it.

"I said Harrington and I are shit at hiding from little Nancy drew," Eddie says and you groan he wasn't funny.

"No, no, no, Gareth." Eddie remembers the previous topic. You groan again, you had a tiny crush. Tiny. It wasn't even worth talking about.

"He's cute okay," you say and Eddie smiles. He pulls into your driveway and gets out. You raise your eyebrows and wink before saying something else, "I want his number and I won't tell Steve that you admitted to dating," you say Eddie sighs.

"Deal," he says and gives you the number. You smile and run up to your room. You were going to call him, you were going to be brave.

You dial the numbers and here his voice ask who it was.

"This is weird but it's Y!n, I bribed Eddie for your number," you say with a little laugh. He laughs back and replies.

"That's cool, and you obviously know who I am," you hear how nervous he was.

"Um, cool... pick me up on Friday? 7?" You ask.

"Um, yeah," Gareth replied a little to fast. He gets nervous.

"Cool," you say and give him your address. You both say cool a few more times before hanging up.

You run downstairs to tell Steve and Eddie the good news, "DISGUSTING," you yell. Eddie and Steve were making out on the couch.

Steve jumps back and falls off the couch with a large blush. Eddie has a satisfied smirk on his face and winks at you.

"I got the date," you say and walk over to them as Eddie helps Steve up. Eddie high fives you. Steve looks curious, Eddie just winks at him and presses a kiss to his nose.

You gag and run back up the stairs. It was better when they were painfully shitty at sneaking around you. You would be much better if you were really trying to hide a boy, or girl.

______________________________________________

You smile as Gareth presses a kiss to your lips, you giggle and kiss him back. You look quickly and see that Eddie's van was pulling up, Steve and Eddie would be back.

They would most likely sneak into Steve's room, and you and Gareth would have to leave. The sounds they made were unholy.

You smirk as Gareth half pushes you onto the bed, you smile and kiss him even harder. You both get entirely lost in each other's lips.

Steve and Eddie pause in the doorway of your room before slowly backing away. They weren't going to disturb.

Fuck that, "YNNNNNN GARETHHHH," Eddie screams and you both jump apart. You fall over the side of the bed and Gareth does to.

"ASSHOLES," you yell as you both get up. They were in fact assholes. They had to disturb you, THEY HAD TO

"Get lost," you say and they leave the room and shut the door. You hear a warning of using protection (Eddie) and a warning of stranging you if he hears one moan (Steve)

It was perfect. You both smile at each other as you laugh over the unseen circumstances. It was funny. If you walked in on Steve and Eddie you would want to die. They walk in you and laugh.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! I write for a ton of characters so check out my pinned post for details!

[filthyfluffyfantasies]

masterlist ┉ gareth emerson

You’ve reached my masterlist for ( gareth emerson ). Below is a complete and mostly up-to-date list of pieces I have written for ( gareth emerson ) and a little list of symbols and their meanings to better help you find exactly what you’re looking for.

♡ Fluff | ♥ Filth | ☁ Angst | ☠ trigger warning needed | ★ Personal Favorite | ϟ Most Read | ☺ Work In Progress | ☻Abandoned

Happy reading, my darling!

NSFW

Alphabet

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Headcanons

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Interludes

↪ ♥ thigh riding, lazyghouls kinktober 2023, read all warnings on post.

SFW

Alphabet

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[spideyfrog]

Gareth Emerson Fic Rec

Last Updated: 11-27-22

Drabbles

Headcanons (M) - @countingsnowflakess

One-Shots

Hail (M) - @countingsnowflakess

Record (M) - @countingsnowflakess

Rival (M) - @leadpoisioning

Series

Lessons Sneaky (M) - @mytheoristavenue

[undreaming-fanfiction]

The Corroded Coffin used to think they'd be the new Metallica or Judas Priest. But where their passion and hard work never lacked, their big break just never came.

What did come, however, was an unexpected change of their career path.

It started innocently enough - they went through yet another failed meeting with recording studios, they'd travelled pretty far and it was for nothing. Instead of going back to Hawkins and risking another one of Eddie's road rages, they decided to break into an abandoned house and drink their sorrows away.

That is, until their empty bottles started collecting themselves, something invisible touched Gareth's shoulder and the dusty floor started showing written messages.

Jeff wanted to flee. Gareth to faint. But Eddie and Freak just shrugged. Eddie gestured towards the approximate ghost location and said "by the power of I don't give a shit anymore, I compel you to sit down and stop it, we'll clean the bottles when we leave tomorrow."

The rattling stopped. There was a moment of silence when the Corroded Coffin actually thought it had worked, but then the ghost overcame its shock and physically threw Eddie, his bandmates and their things out.

They sat on the wet grass for a while and contemplated their whole exitence. Eddie was pretty shaken about the whole thing because he'd just managed to royally piss off a ghost and lived to tell the tale. But apart from absolutely terrifying...it was also fun?

And his friends seemed to think the same. Jeff patted his shoulder and said: "not bad for a first touch with the unknown, huh?"

They stayed in the area and tried again. They decided to tape over their promotional video - not so great, they had to admit after rewatching it - and started documenting their ghostly encounters. And maybe it was just the timing, maybe it was their interactions and personalities, but it worked. They showed some of their tapes to a local TV station and they got a cautious yes, more than they ever had with their music.

They got assigned a small crew, Fred with a camera and Chrissy for sound, wrote their own episodes and did plenty of research. And they got to try quite a lot of different approaches with their ghostly friends. Eddie was amazing at taunting the ghosts, making them appear if there were any present. Gareth had a wonderfully calming presence, managing to save the CC's ass several times. Jeff was the brains, he made sure they'd always know the history of the house and the probable identity of the ghost. And Freak decided to dabble in the occult sciences with a terrifying precision. There could never be enough salt in Eddie's van for all the circles he made.

It all went well until they learned of the Creel House in Hawkins. They went there, did their research and before entering the house, they ordered some pizza for dinner. They assumed it would be over by midnight, thinking it was just another sad story of an unresolved murder, but the ghost of Henry Creel was out for blood.

Oh, and he also controlled the spiders of the house. That was new.

To set the scene: The crew had fled the house about an hour ago. Eddie was crouching behind an old table, blocking Henry's barrage of kitchen knives, shouting "IS THIS THE BEST YOU'VE GOT?!". Gareth was behind the table with Eddie, but he went more into the wailing territory with "I DON'T THINK THIS WILL HELP YOU MOVE ON, HENRY!". Jeff had blocked himself in the pantry and kept trying to identify the triggering moment - "I think he's re-enacting the murder of his mother, guys! Does that help?!" (it doesn't). And Freak gave up on salt circles and was now tossing handfuls of salt around the house with a questionable technique but unwavering determination.

Suddenly, a car horn.

Then, a bitchy male voice: "Are you coming to get your pizza or what? I have other customers to get to!"

Eddie gritted his teeth as Henry added heavy pans to the mix and hit his shoulder. "We're a little busy surviving here! Ask Chrissy to pay you!"

There was a muffled and annoyed "ugh" from behind the door and then: "Is it Henry again?"

Eddie just blinked. Gareth was more ready to answer: "Sure is! He's not a fan of our exorcism!"

And the pizza guy didn't leave. He just huffed and said something that sounded suspiciously like "amateurs".

Eddie wanted to punch him.

But before he could do that, the front door opened. Gareth held his breath, half expecting a sound of knives hitting their target.

Instead, they heard a few more steps and then: "What the fuck, Henry?!"

A faint whispering reached their ears, but they couldn't decipher it. But the pizza guy could.

"I don't care they didn't get your permission, Henry. Yeah, it's annoying, but what are you going to do? If more people die in this house, it's going to get demolished. You know that. Yeah, I know the house is old, but it's great for your spiders, right? They'd be homeless. Do you want to make your spiders homeless, Henry?"

They dared to peek from behind the table, and Eddie had to pinch himself. Because in the middle of the dusty dining room stood one of the prettiest young men Eddie had ever seen, hands on hips and arguing with something invisible.

The man completely ignored them.

"That's what I thought. Now, apologize. No, they can't hear you, so get creative."

All four CC members stared as words formed in the spilled salt: "SORRY".

The pizza guy seemed to be pleased. "Good job, Henry. Now, let me get them out of here and I promise I'll get the Party to bring you some new spiders when they capture them outside, yeah? Three knocks, slide them in a glass behind the door. Got it. Take care, Henry."

Only then did he look at Eddie and the others and frowned. "That's your cue to leave. Get your stuff and go, now." And as they were quickly collecting their scattered notes and recording equipment, he added: "and say goodbye when leaving. Don't be rude."

Four rushed "Bye, Henry!" and "Sorry, Henry"s later, the Corroded Coffin was standing on the grass outside, feeling the setting sun on their skin and smelling fresh pizza. Gareth promptly paid for the delivery, and everyone proceeded to thank their mysterious savior.

"I'm Steve," he said after they'd all expressed their thanks, "and you're stupid. Do you really do this without anyone who sees and hears them? Do you just stumble blindly into haunted houses for a fun and stabby time?"

Eddie had to swallow down a very bitchy response of his own. "Sorry to stroke your ego even more, pretty boy, but a man of your talents is hard to come by."

And Steve, to Eddie's massive shock, just cocked his head and fluffed his hair, probably out of habit, but damn. "Well, consider yourself lucky because I'm open to job offers," he said with a wink that brought Eddie back into his teenage fantasies. "You need someone like me, and I assume you pay better than pizza delivery. Do you?"

Turns out, their producer was willing to get one more person on board, especially when they finished processing the leftover footage from the Creel house.

Steve was an amazing addition. He was snarky, self-confident, easy to look at and most of all, he was fun and compassionate. Watching him communicate with ghosts of kids and help them move on made Eddie's icy heart melt.

But one day they were on a site of an unfortunate teenage death, Steve was chatting with the ghost of a 17 year old girl like they'd known each other for ages, he was laughing, cracking jokes, and then:

"No, he hasn't kissed me yet."

Eddie turned around on his heel and stared at Steve, snickering to himself and talking to a misty figure next to him. And worst of all, they were both staring right at Eddie.

"Hasn't even asked me out, no. You'd think he'd be interested, but I guess I'm doing something wrong."

And Eddie's head short-circuited, and all the repressed fantasies from nights next to Steve in their trailer came back with vengeance. He howled and threw himself at Steve, kissing him right on that bitchy mouth. "Doing something wrong?! Steven Harrington, those shorts of yours are doing everything right, but how about you say something, huh?!"

Steve returned the kiss to the cheering of the CC guys, Chrissy's clapping and Fred's disgusted noise, and shrugged when they broke apart. "I knew you'd get it, eventually. Oh, and Heather?" he turned to the ghost. "You're the best wingwoman ever, in this life and after."

Four good things came from this ghostly encounter:

After the kiss, Gareth finally gathered enough courage to ask Chrissy out. She said yes.

The episode with Heather became the most watched episode of the CC's show.

Steve and Eddie remained in an equally blissful and teasing relationship for the rest of their lives.

And finally...

The TV station decided to design official merch for the CC's show: incredibly short shorts that said on the backside: "DOING EVERYTHING RIGHT".

[little-annie]

Gareth's POV

---

Eddie was acting weird.

And not his normal, kind of flighty, maybe a little sleep deprived thanks to childhood trauma and nightmares, weird.

No. He was weird in the sense that he hadn't quit smiling. And not in the sort of sinister, sort of menacing way he did when he was going to do something stupid or get into shit. No. He was smiling like Gareth had never seen him smile before. All dimples and fluttering eyes, catching himself with a giggle and turning away to shake it off as if it'd ever actually go away.

He looked happy, smitten if Gareth really had to put a word to it. Twitterpated, Love-Struck, Infatuated; if he had to put a few more.

It's a look Gareth had only ever seen in a smaller multitude when Eddie bought his Warlock those few years ago. And now, holding that same guitar, plucking mindlessly to a fucking Tears For Fears song, Eddie smiling like that, but ten fold.

Gareth has his suspicions, one much more likely than others. Maybe Eddie's high, maybe he finally passed Mrs. Click's class and hasn't told anyone yet, or maybe, the most likely of the three because Gareth might be just a touch dumb like any other teenage boy, not blind; Steve Harrington.

Steve "The King" "The Hair" Harrington.

Steve "who was never really a problem but still kind of a douchebag" Harrington.

Steve "who Eddie never shuts the fuck up about" Harrington.

Steve "who just so happens to be coming to their band practice today" Harrington.

Steve Harrington, Gareth's 99% sure.

As much could be proven by the way Eddie slips up on his cord and blushes the deepest shade of red upon Steve's arrival. 

Not to mention the fact that Harrington's sporting a Black Sabbath t-shirt Gareth knows to be Eddie's because they went to the fucking concert together. 

Well, then there's the hickeys that suspiciously match between the pair and the way Steve's eyes rake with a disturbing sort of hunger over Eddie's body. 

It's then that Eddie's change in the flavour of weird he's giving off today makes sense. That dopey smile, those heart shaped eyes and the way he just seems blissfully happy; it all makes sense.

[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.”

[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✨

[bookshelf-dust]

the ones in red are always the prettiest.

gareth emerson x fem!henderson!reader.

word count: 4,215

warnings: swearing, pining, mentions of smoking, eddie playing matchmaker, the sweetest most disgustingly adorable fluff

a/n: i’m kind of in love with this, which doesn’t happen often. it felt easy to write too, if that makes sense. i hope you like it as much as i do!! <333

————

You don’t have friends. At least not really. Not anymore. You keep to yourself: go to class, study as best as you can, try and take care of yourself sometimes even. But you have got Dustin.

Dustin may be three years younger than you, but he’s remains your best friend. You tell him everything, and he knows you better than anyone. He is your one confidant.

Yeah, there may be some things that you don’t tell him, but he sort of knows, in a way. He’s always been smart as a whip. Like how lonely you are. How hard things can get. But he notices. Notices when you shy away from him, sink into yourself.

Yet he’s always there. Always. So when he started high school with you—his beginning, your ending—and found the Hellfire Club, it was like a dream come true. He’d found more kids like him to nerd out with, not that he didn’t nerd out with you, because he did. But he’d found his people. His own little group. And you were over the moon for him.

But that did take him away from you a bit. What with the initiations at the beginning of the year, new members and whatnot, the numerous and lengthy campaigns, Dustin simply making friends and having fun, you just didn’t see him as much. Didn’t have as much time to talk to him. But you were okay with that, because he was so happy.

————

Dustin was sitting at the Hellfire table, today sandwiched between Eddie and Lucas. You’d packed him a lunch this morning when you packed yours, because he’d said he was staying after school for a club meeting, and you wanted to make sure he had enough food, what with how late they could sometimes run.

The cafeteria food wasn’t always the best, and if he was going to be there extra long, he needed some snacks. Seeing Gareth and Mike sit down with trays full of whatever that was supposed to be, he was grateful for your gesture. Dustin dug around for the cookie he wanted, and snagged it, realizing you’d accidentally thrown two in there. So of course, being himself, he wanted to give it to you.

Dustin’s head shot up from where he’d been looking down, his eyes locating you sat at the table he’d been taken away from at the beginning of the year. Your neck was bent, nose buried in a book, and you were occasionally picking through your lunch pail. She needs this cookie, Dustin thought to himself. He hopped up, not thinking anything of it, ignoring the “Where’s he going?” and “Hey! You almost knocked my drink over!” that followed his change in seating.

You resisted the urge to flip your shit over the way Mr. Darcy was treating Elizabeth at the moment. Not that it was necessary, seeing as you'd read the book more than was healthy. Your page flipped with the gust of air that followed Dustin's aggressive flop as he sat down on the bench across from you. "How's Fitzwilliam today?"

"Prickish," you told him. "As al--" "As always," Dustin interrupted and finished for you. You grinned at him, closing the book, but keeping your thumb in to mark the page. "Need something, Dusty?"

He held out the cookie with both hands, bowing his head. "For you, my liege."

"Why, thank you kind sir." Dustin giggled at you, always willing to indulge him, and held his hand out for a high-five, which you reciprocated, before he scrambled back to his table.

"What was that all about?" Eddie inquired, shoving the last of a half-assed turkey sandwich in his mouth, wiping the crumbs on his knees before remembering that was where the holes in the denim were, making him steal Gareth's napkin. Gareth flipped him the bird.

"Just being a kind sibling. Figured she could use a nice gesture." Dustin adjusted the hat on his head. "I don't see how the two of you are related," Gareth started, "She's so quiet, and you're so—"

"Enthusiastic," Eddie finished.

"She's always been shy, but I think the quiet thing came after she got to high school."

"How's that?" Gareth popped the tab on his Dr. Pepper. "She had a pretty tight friend group in middle school, but they sort of grew apart. They got boyfriends, became cheerleaders, clones of one another. She didn't. She likes to read and doesn't give a shit about being popular—that's how we're related—and so I think the more independent she's become has made her eternally quiet. But she's kind of like us, actually, like when she gets excited about something. She's quite the nerd." Eddie smiled genuinely at Dustin, admiring the way he spoke about you, since most people didn't talk about their siblings like that. Mike certainly didn't.

Gareth glanced at you from where you finished off a bag of Ruffles, tipping the dregs into your mouth. Yeah, you were definitely related to Dustin. You dug around in your bookbag, pulling a red flannel on over your t-shirt. It was the same red as Gareth's vest. He pretended like that didn't affect him and went back to the Goldfish he'd gotten from the vending machine.

————

Dustin futzed with his hair in his bedroom mirror while you adjusted his makeshift 'X' belt buckle. He then tugged his hoodie down down, tucking the front into his yellow sweats to display the black emblem. "Here." You handed him his costume glasses.

You'd even sprayed a little blue in his hair for effect. He was the best Hank McCoy you'd ever seen. Dustin and his friend group had decided to go as assorted X-Men this Halloween, and the two of you had worked very hard on his costume. He'd begged you to join in, and you couldn't say no to him, so here you were with a huge white streak of hair on your head, attempting to be your very best Rogue.

You'd made your hair as big and curly as possible, and even spent a little extra on your temporary white hairspray so that it would last, a black headband pushed up your forehead to top it off. Your yellow top was tucked into green corduroy's, which matched the green bomber jacket you'd found at the thrift store. You'd dug out some worn in yellow converse, and Dustin had helped you make 'X' patches for your jacket and shirt.

Lucas and Max were supposed to be Scott and Jean, with Mike having chosen Sean Cassidy. You'd heard he'd been slaving over his Banshee 'wings.'

Some might think that all of you were too old for trick-or-treating, but none of you gave a shit. The plan was to hit the rich neighborhoods, traumatize tiny children, and then you were driving the group to Jeff's house for a Halloween party. Eddie had warned that if you didn't show up in costume, you weren't allowed in.

With a successful haul, you pulled into the driveway, nervous. "Are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" You looked at your brother in the passenger seat.

"Are you kidding? They invited you! They think it's cool that my sister likes Halloween as much as they do. You're gonna be great!" He smiled at you, adding an aggressive thumbs up for encouragement.

————

"Holy shit! You guys look great!" Jeff shouted as he opened the door, ushering all of you in. Jeff was covered in various makeshift nuts and bolts and stitches, opting for a very well albeit lazily crafted Frankenstein. When Eddie appeared, he was draped in a red and green sweater, and turning his cheek, he had some fake scar wax adorning the skin of his cheek. Although his knife fingers were only on his left hand as he waved at the lot of you. "Ladies first," he drawled.

"Thanks, Fred." You wandered into the kitchen in search of a drink as Dustin and his friends mingled. You didn't want to be the obnoxious older sister tonight, especially since he'd invited you to hang out with him and his friends.

You poured your drink, and were digging in the candy bowl when a voice interrupted you. "Wow, things must've really downhill with Xavier if Rogue is hangin' out with us." You looked up to find Gareth grinning at you.

You snorted. "I'm just here for the candy. Hank doesn't like to share." You let your eyes wander over his Dracula costume. His curls were extra defined tonight, and he'd clearly had the same idea as you, with a good bit of black spray weaved in with his natural brown. He was wearing all black under his cape, the red of the underside a stark contrast. Just looking at his cape, you could tell it was well-made and probably expensive. Given the boy, this probably wasn't the first time he'd used it.

He had rings on almost every finger, a dangly stake-like object hanging from one ear. But his fangs were the best part. They weren’t the plastic ones you bend and shove in your mouth, or comically oversized canines. They were small attachments on either of his own teeth, and were just big and sharp enough to be convincing. Honestly, he looked hot. You'd let him suck your blood.

Gareth laughed in response. It was hearty and sweet, and you hadn’t heard nearly enough of it. “Well, I like the costume. Looks good on you.” Oh shit. You were blushing now, weren’t you? You totally were.

“Thanks. I like yours too. The cape is very nice.” You popped a Dum-Dum into your mouth, and Gareth almost choked on his drink watching it move around in your mouth.

“Really? I’m glad you said so because I spent way too much money on it. I’ve been Dracula for the past like, four years, so I decided to at least make it look like I tried.”

“Well I think it’s very cute. It suits you,” you told him, popping candy in your pockets for later.

“Would you like to play a game? I think someone’s setting up Monopoly and you can see Eddie get mad when he loses.” Gareth grinned at you.

“Sure. I’d like that a lot.” He held out his hand, which you took, trying not to think about how nice the calluses felt against your skin, and lead you down to the basement, which you realized was where everyone else had gone off to.

————

The Monopoly game ended up being much shorter than intended because Eddie got pissed that he was broke ten minutes in and flipped the board with a “I hate this shit!” and laugh.

You were now playing Guess-Who? with Gareth, Max sitting beside you and Dustin sitting beside him, both of whom were finding great joy in the shitty descriptions either of you offered—you trying to make them as vague as possible.

“Do they have red hair?” Gareth asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe more of a chestnut.” You grinned at him and he slapped his hand to his forehead.

“You’re an asshole,” he told you, smiling whilst he did so.

“Yes, they have red hair Mr. Emerson.” You watched him flick down a couple of panels, eyes lingering on his fingers for probably too long. You heard a cough, and turned your head to see Max smirking at you, and then you were blushing again. “Fuck off,” you whispered to her. She shook her head at you.

It was your turn again. “Hmm. Is it Andrew?” You looked up from your board at Gareth, who was already looking at you. He had a look of betrayal on his face. “Yes, Y/N. It’s fucking Andrew.” You clapped your hands in triumph, sitting up on your knees to give Max a high-five.

“You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?” He flicked down all of the panels on both of your boards, putting them back in the box. “‘S not my fault you suck at this game.” He scoffed playfully at you.

“What do I win?” You inquired.

“What do you think? Jack shit.” You rolled your eyes and pulled a 3 Musketeers out of your pocket and tossed it at Dustin. He caught it, thanking you, and then he and Max went off elsewhere.

“I don’t get any candy?”

“Get your own, Emerson.”

“No, I don’t think I will. What’ve you got in there, huh?” You stood, trying to fend off the candy thief.

“Nothing. I ate it all.” You continued to back up as he stood. Nothing about this was serious, though, considering the shit-eating grins on either of your faces.

He was on you in a second, gently pushing you onto the couch, tickling your sides to coerce your hands from your pockets. It worked, and you raised your hands in surrender, ready to give up your candy stash to him. He tickled you for just a minute longer, realizing he’d never heard you laugh like this before, realizing how much he liked it.

He gave up, searching your pockets, pulling free a handful of Kit-Kats and peanut butter cups. “Thanks, princess.” He tickled your side again and planted a kiss on your forehead before plopping down beside you and throwing a leg over yours.

Across the room, Eddie looked at Jeff. “You seein’ this?” Jeff nodded.

“I think our boy’s in deep,” Eddie told him, snubbing out his cigarette.

————

You pulled into the Hawkins High parking lot driving around to park outside of the doors where Dustin usually came out. You pressed the light on above your head so you could see your book, considering Dustin was always late no matter what time he told you to pick him up. A little while later, you heard the doors open, but didn’t look up, knowing he’d find his ride eventually.

Turns out, that was everyone else leaving. Gareth and Dustin had stayed to clean up, and when they finally got outside Dustin followed Gareth to his car so he could pick up some extra dice from him.

Gareth hopped in the driver’s seat, leaning over to open the glove box, but he decided to turn the car on first and let it warm up. And nothing. It wouldn’t start. Dustin asked him if it was something or other, but Gareth stopped him. “No, man. I know exactly what it is. The fuckin’ battery has been on its last leg forever. I guess tonight it decided to depart for good.” Gareth mumbled a “Shit,” under his breath as he grabbed the dice, but when he turned around, Dustin was gone.

The thud of hands on the window startled you and made you jump. Dustin yanked the door open. “Gareth’s car won’t start! You’re the only one left. Think we can give him a ride home?” By that point, the boy in question had made his way over looking for Dustin.

“Dude! Don’t just offer that up to her! She’s probably got shit to do.” He stopped in front of the two of you. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to. I can call Eddie or my mom or something.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s totally fine. I’m right here and there’s no reason for you to do that. I can take you home.”

“You sure?” You told him you were, and told Dustin he had to sit in the back, ignoring his protests.

It really wasn’t a problem, he only lived a little past you and Dustin, and it didn’t bother you to drive an extra five minutes. Not for him. You were about halfway there when Dustin exclaimed, “That son of a bitch! Piece of shit!” from the backseat.

“What?” You asked, confused, but used to his antics.

“We have to stop at Mike’s. He’s got my folder! The one with all the character sheets! I think my math homework is in there too. Can we please? It’s on the way!” It wasn’t. You’d have to take a detour.

Eventually, you stopped the car outside of the Wheeler’s, Dustin hopping out and barreling towards the door, leaving you and Gareth alone in the car. You’d never been properly alone with him before.

When you turned your head to look at him, he was already looking at you. He really had to stop doing that. You grinned at him and he grinned right back, eyes creasing, cheeks reddening.

“Okay, I’m gonna tell you this now before he gets back. You’re so pretty. So pretty. I’ve been thinkin’ about you since Halloween.” He started messing with the rips in his jeans, obviously nervous.

“You think that? That’s really sweet. I think you’re pretty too, Gareth.” His head jerked up to you.

“You think I’m pretty?” You nodded at him.

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.” He leaned over the center console and smacked a sweet and noisy kiss on your forehead, then another on your cheek.

“Sorry. You deserved that.” You burst out laughing, finding it hard to believe he could feel this way about you, but deciding to welcome it anyhow.

The two of you just looked at each other for a few minutes, and he went to say something, just as Dustin burst back into the car. “Alright! Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

————

Dustin was eating lunch a few days later when Eddie asked him, “Why don’t you invite your sister to sit with us? She hangs around enough, feels weird to have her sit alone.” He was kinda confused at the offer, even though it made sense. Dustin just guessed maybe you liked being alone during lunch, that you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on your book with them. But he took Eddie up on the offer, pattering over to you and presenting the situation at hand.

“Dustin, I’m not going to do that and interrupt you and your friends. You don’t need me in your life like that.” He quirked a brow, realizing that you thought he didn’t want you around like that.

“What? Come on, Y/N. I want you to sit with me and my friends. Let’s go. You can bring Mr. Bingley with you and everything.” He picked up your lunch box and book for you, leading the way.

When you made it to the designated Hellfire table, Eddie pulled out the seat between him and Gareth, bending at the waist. “M’lady.” You snorted and thanked him. Dustin set your lunch down in front of you and then your copy of Pride and Prejudice, fondly patting the cover, before plopping down across from you.

Eddie smirked at himself for getting you over here, having specifically chosen your seat. He was determined to help his boy out.

“What are we reading?” Eddie asked, leaning over to read the cover. He hummed in interest, but you were positive he was just humoring you. “Would you recommend it?” You laughed.

“Only if you’re willing to explore a period romance. But you might like it, you never know.” He grinned at you, smile lines appearing around his mouth. Eddie Munson was too charming for his own good.

“It’s actually pretty good,” the voice to your right said.

You turned to look at Gareth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, Gare, but why do you know that?” He laughed.

“My sister is fond of a bedtime story and wanted me to read it to her. But when I started she had all these questions and I couldn’t answer them, so we put it on pause and then I read it so she could have the full experience.” He shook his hands for emphasis. That was so sweet you felt like you could throw up.

“What?” He was looking at you and you were looking right back, but you realized you must’ve looked how you felt: practically fucking in love.

You straightened. “Nothing. That’s just kind of lovely?” His knee bumped yours under the table, his cheeks getting increasingly more rosy by the minute. You felt like reaching out and brushing your thumb along the spattering of freckles on his nose.

“Okay, now I’m feeling left out. Would you lend it to me?” Eddie asked you, feeling properly scandalized.

“Sure, Edward. You can have it in a few days. I’m almost done anyways, but I’ve read it a hundred times. If there are crumbs in the pages, no there aren’t.”

“I don’t mind. My copy of The Hobbit is missing half of the back cover.”

For the remainder of lunch, you gladly put Jane aside to indulge the boys in all their queries addressing the so-called interests you shared with Dustin.

“Daredevil? Really?” Gareth and you had started to slip into your own conversation, the rest of them arguing over some minuscule campaign detail.

“Yeah, you don’t like him?” You finished off a bag of grapes, offering Gareth your last two.

“No, no I do! Just guess I figured you’d like Captain America or Iron Man. Didn’t have you pegged as a sucker for vigilantes.”

“Oh, I do like Cap and Iron Man. Very much so. I guess I just like the color red.” You looked down at your hands, trying not to make eye contact with him following your attempt at a flirty comment.

Your nail picking was interrupted as Gareth’s hand slipped into yours. You’d been thinking about the warmth of his palm against your own since Halloween. The way his fingers rubbed over your knuckles. How reassuring it was to be in his grasp. You looked up at his gesture. “Is that so?” He squeezed your hand, moving your clasped fingers to rest on his thigh.

“Yeah. The ones in red are always the prettiest.”

————

The noise carrying down the hall was predictable, but starting to annoy you still. You were almost finished with your English essay, but you couldn’t concentrate. Not with the loud voice of the dungeon master or dice clattering or Dustin’s ear-piercing shrieks. You didn’t want to be a dick, but you were going to have to sneak out of your room.

You opened the door, following the sound. You took in the party and all it’s glory as you weaved around the table that had been put up in the living room. They were all too immersed in the game to notice you anyhow. You made it into the kitchen, opening the cabinet and reaching up to grab medicine for the headache you now had. You’d just downed the pills when you glanced over at the table again and met Gareth’s eyes. “You okay?” He mouthed.

You tapped your head in response, finishing the last of the water in your cup before setting it in the sink. You didn’t miss the way his eyes traveled down your bare legs as you escaped back to your room.

Safely back in your place of refuge, you grabbed your keys and slipped on shoes, deciding that maybe a milkshake would help you concentrate on the rest of your homework.

You made it down the hall again, walking to the door. Your hand was on the knob when a voice said, “Where do you think you’re going? You’re supposed to be babysitting me.”

You turned around to face Dustin, everyone’s eyes on you. “None of your business, dusty bun. There are plenty of people to babysit you here anyways.” You flipped him the bird when he rolled his eyes and hurried out the door.

Sitting in your room, milkshake—which you’d snuck back into the house—almost finished, there was a knock at the door. You knew it wasn’t Dustin because he’d never knocked a day in his life—only ever shouting before busting through an entrance. “Yeah?”

The door gently pushed open, and you saw his curls before you saw the rest of Gareth. “Am I interrupting?” You nodded your head. “Yeah, but it’s okay.”

You’d finished your essay and were now doing homework for your science class before you called it a night. Gareth wandered into your room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the desk next to you. “Need something?”

“Just wanted to see if your head was okay. I know we get loud.” You laughed at him.

“It’s better now. Besides, I’m used to it. Just couldn’t concentrate.” His eyes met your milkshake cup, and he was suddenly aghast.

He looked at you, feigning betrayal, “You snuck out to get a milkshake? I’m hurt.” Shit, his eyes were so pretty. Too pretty.

“You contributed to the headache, Gare. You want to try some? There’s a little left.”

“Sure.” He said. You took another sip and then offered it to him, but he shook his head. “Not like that.”

And then he was leaning down to meet you, fingers lifting your chin. Gareth planted his lips on yours, grinning, obviously proud of himself. His lips were softer than you expected, assuming they’d be a bit like his hands, but either way they were gone much too fast.

“Pretty damn good milkshake.” You knew you were beet red, but you didn’t care. You stood, putting your hands on his cheeks and kissing him again, smiling the whole time. When you pulled away, you ran your thumb along the freckles on his nose, like you’d been wanting to.

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[tbmunson]

Gareth Emerson Masterlist

🖤 Smut. 🤍 Fluff. 🧡 Angst.

🤍 Tattoos & Trig

🖤 Lace & Leather

🤍 Sugar & Sweets

🤍 Eddie's Best Friend

🤍 Eddie's Best Friend pt 2

🧡 Short Fuse

🧡 Yellow Flowers

[morganwrites12672]

I was hoping maybe a gareth x reader where the reader is closer to an artistic Allison from the breakfast club type and they end up running into eachtoher after a drug deal with eddie and becoming close friends into lovers and gareth is protective of reader when she trips on the walk back to the school? Thank you so much I absolutely love your writing!

Ofc! Thx for answering my question!

Gareth Emerson x Reader

'Youre cute when you're flustered'

You had met Eddie Munson in detention. He was a pretty cool guy, and you both had similar style and reputations.

This was how you had met Gareth Emerson.

You were walking through the woods to find that picnic table, you were almost out of weed. It was a very convenient spot. Far enough away the jocks would never find you, but close enough that you could there and back on your lunch, or free period.

He cute, you don't think anyone could deny that, he was really cute.

"Wow, I'm not that special," you joked and Eddie, of course, did a dramatic flay of his hands.

"This isn't what it looks like," he insists and you play a long. Gareth standa there looking shocked.

"You're cheating on me?" You demand and Eddie stifles a laugh. Gareth looks confused, very confused.

"No, I'm not Gareth tell her," Eddie insists. Gareth is to stunned to speak. You and Eddie break down laughing and Gareth let's out a nervous chuckle.

"I think we've given him enough hell," you say and Eddie gives a slight pout. Gareth smiles at you. Damn, he is cute.

"I'm yn," you say and plop down at the table and slide Eddie some cash. Gareth stutters for a moment before speaking.

"Gareth, Gareth Emerson," he says. You grab your weed from Eddie and get up.

"So, eds, you ditching today?" You ask and Eddie looks like he is debating the answer. He replays a yes and you decide to walk back with Gareth, some of you still had to keep decent grades.

"How do you know Eddie?" Gareth asks. He hadn't seen you before, you looked like the type to be eddies secret girlfriend or something. He hoped not, you were cute. Very cute.

"He's, uh been my dealer for a while. I met him in middle school, we were the two most targeted outcasts, the only difference is if you don't provoke the jocks they leave you alone," you pause," Mostly," you say with a wink before jogging a little.

Gareth walks faster to catch up with you, "What do you mean?" He asks. Damn he was cute when confused.

"I may have provoked them, with minimal contact," you say and Gareth groans he want the answer, "Fine. I do stupid shit, I dyed the jerseys pink one year, or the time I hid Jason's stupid lucky shoes," you say and Gareth gasps.

"You are the one who dyed all of the uniforms? and the game where Jason couldn't find his shoes, you know they lost the game," Gareth says. Sure, you seemed a lot like Eddie, but less targety.

"You're cute when you're flustered," you say and Gareth blushes slightly.

"Um, so are you and Eddie dating?" Gareth asks.

"No, why do you want to take me out?" You joke and Gareth blushes and stutters a no.

"Shit," you mutter as you stumble over a lose tree root. Gareth quickly helps you up and looks super concerned.

"Shit, shit, are you okay?" He asks and you shrug as you stand up and brush off your pants.

"Mentally or physically?" You ask and Gareth lauhgs. HE IS SO GODDAMN CUTE. You couldn't help it, his curly brown hair, and those freckles.

"Maybe we could hang out tonight? I have a new Dio record at my place," you suggest. God, if he said no you would be humiliated.

"Sure," he says to fast and scolds himself. He was being a idiot.

"I know I've said this, but you're cute when you're flustered," you say with a laugh and he gives a slight chuckle.

From meeting him at a drug deal with your friend, Eddie, to going to listen to Dio together.

______________________________________________

Loved this idea!

Requests are open, my pinned post has my full list of characters I write for!

If you liked this fic, please help support me and reblog!

[hellishchrissy]

should I stay, or should I go now? if I go, there will be trouble and if I stay, it will be double

[eiightysixbaby]

silver springs: part one

You Make Loving Fun

i never did believe in miracles, but i’ve a feeling it’s time to try

word count: 7.7k

pairing: rockstar!eddie x rockstar!fem!reader

summary: you and your boyfriend eddie’s band gets the offer of a lifetime, sending you on a spiral into international fame. this is everything the five of you have ever wanted - producing an album, going on tour. what could go wrong?

cw: 18+ ONLY. this chapter does contain SMUT - although brief, there are depictions of unprotected sex. i try to keep use of y/n to a minimum - reader’s nickname is dove/dovey and this will be used frequently throughout the fic. drug and alcohol mentions, reader and the band drink & get high, and i think that’s it, really. the rest of this chapter is pretty tame!

authors note: ah here it is! the first chapter of my 1970s band au! please remember that future chapters of this fic will contain some heavier subject matter (cheating, drug/alcohol abuse, detailed depictions of sex). if this bothers you, DO NOT READ. i’m very happy to finally put chapter one out into the world and i hope you all enjoy! listen to the series playlist here!

May 17th, 1972. Hawkins, Indiana

You and your bandmates sit sprawled across the furniture in Steve’s living room, bouncing around song ideas. Warm spring air wafts in through an open window, birdsong lilting softly in the trees outside. A clock ticks methodically from the wall by the front door. Robin dangles upside down off of a chair, taking a puff of a cigarette, her hair dangling to the floor.

“What?” She catches you staring at her, “I can focus better like this, I’m serious.”

You huff a laugh, writing and rewriting a lyric in your song book, then scratching it out altogether. She softly sings to herself, trying to will the lyrics to come to her.

“Sweet, wonderful youuu….. you are, no- you make… you make me…”

The four of you - you, Steve, Robin, and your drummer Gareth - had been sitting for what felt like hours. Trying, and ultimately failing to get some new songs brewing. Your fellow frontman and boyfriend, Eddie, was off doing god-knows-what. He wouldn’t tell you guys, just said he was gonna be showing up to Steve’s late. Steve mindlessly plucks at his bass, frowning as he starts to get the hang of a riff but then loses it.

The five of you started your band, The Rumors, about a year ago, had humble beginnings in Gareth’s garage - much to his neighbors’ dismay. You would spend hours upon hours toiling away in that garage, writing, rewriting, perfecting your songs. And really, there was a lot of talent there, even from the very beginning. You knew how to lift each other up, encourage one another to be better musicians, and it was a great dynamic to be coming up in. You’d been extremely fortunate in your close-knit hometown, being offered slots to perform at local bars, and word would get out and occasionally you’d travel to bars and clubs on the outskirts of Hawkins. Small crowds, and hardly any of them were paid gigs, but it sure as hell got word around.

As for you and Eddie, the two of you were high school sweethearts, formed a bond over your love of music and the rest was history. Two fools in love, you started writing songs together for fun, Eddie would play his acoustic as you would sing. His uncle Wayne picked up on the talent you two had, always saying things like ‘You kids should start a band or somethin’. Bet you’d make it real far.’ At first the two of you just brushed it off, figured he was just being nice. But after you’d both graduated, and neither of you had a clue what you wanted to do with your lives now, the thought of starting a band lingered, bounced around in your brain until you couldn’t think of anything else. It consumed Eddie’s thoughts as much as it consumed yours. He knew Gareth from middle school, knew he played drums and ended up pitching the idea to him - and he was on board immediately. You knew Steve, who was learning bass at the time, and your mutual friend Nancy was dating Robin, who was wicked good on the keys and had a stellar voice.

Everything fell into place just like that. Your group started practicing together, and became pretty much inseparable. You all really fell into a groove, taking on different roles in the band as you learned each other’s personalities. Robin was quick-witted and smart, always there to listen to your problems or offer advice, and man - she’s a chatterbox. She’s great at songwriting and always brings strong ideas to the table. She’s loyal to her loved ones, and she’s a huge softie when it comes to you guys, and especially Nancy. Steve is basically the mom of the band, yelling at Eddie when he shows up to practice late, giving Robin rides everywhere, keeping you all in line and making sure no one ends up dead on a night at the bars. He tends to come across as very serious - business oriented. All about the music and perfecting his craft. But when you get to know him, he’s a sweetheart. He just wants to make sure everything goes according to plan, is all. Gareth is the comedic relief, a phenomenal drummer, and he knows how to party. He’s kind, always welcoming, and all in all just happy to be here. He’s always willing to let Eddie bounce ideas off him, and you can count on him to give you his genuine opinions. Eddie is the showstopper, truly. He can be a little disorganized and scattered at times but he’s passionate about what he does. A social butterfly, a sweet-talker, excellent at getting his way. He’s also just downright pretty (but you were definitely biased). He’s determined and never lets a setback stop him. The perfect frontman, confident and loud. And as for you, you’re typically the peacekeeper, the sweet one. You have a soft heart, you love fiercely, trust willingly, and are willing to give your all for this band. You’re the other side of Eddie’s coin, and you’re happy to follow him on your shared dream.

You guys were in the process of trying to write an album, trying to get some bigger shows, get an ‘in’ with someone who had connections in the music scene. As frustrating as it could be at times, none of you were willing to give up. Eddie would always talk about how you guys were going to be the biggest rock band in the world someday, like it was a sure thing, and god how you all hoped he was right.

“Seriously, what should come after this line- ‘Sweet wonderful you, you make me…’ you make me what!?” Robin sighs dramatically, sitting upright and putting her cigarette out in the ashtray.

“How about, ‘You make me happy with the things you do’?” you offer, lighting up when Robin’s eyes go wide.

“Yes! That’s it, oh my god. Thank you thank you,” she scribbles it in her notebook, humming the tune to herself.

“That’s going somewhere, Rob. Seriously, don’t give up on that one,” Steve encourages, moving to stand behind her chair and give her shoulders a squeeze.

Just as Robin’s about to throw more lyrics out, the front door swings open, and Eddie comes barreling in. He’s biting on his bottom lip, like he’s trying to hold his smile back from breaking free.

“Eddie… what’s that face? What’re you up to?” Gareth asks, narrowing his eyes at the other man.

“Oh, nothing…. just, y’know, got us a gig at The Corner in Indianapolis, where Scott Pierce may or may not be watching us play,” Eddie’s lips twist into a smirk as he talks.

The Corner was an insanely popular club in the city, plenty of bands playing there, getting their start. Scott Pierce was a huge name in the music industry, well-known manager for many different bands and artists and had as many connections as a small band from Hawkins could possibly ask for. How Eddie had pulled this off, you had no idea.

“What!? Eddie, are you fucking serious, man!?” Steve shouts, shaking Robin as he does, her head bobbling around slightly.

You and Gareth jump out of your seats, badgering Eddie for more context.

“I was just on the phone with someone at Scott’s office - I sent them that demo tape we made of Don’t Stop, they dug it - pulled some strings, got us a gig. He’s gonna attend and if he likes us, which he will of course, we could have a bigger offer in store. We could finally make an album!” Eddie’s beaming, his hands shaking with excitement.

The four of you rush to him, everyone hugging and cheering. Eddie picks you up and spins you around, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips.

“This is it, baby. This could really be it for us,” he whispers to you, your foreheads pressed together.

You’re grateful Eddie’s holding onto you because your whole body feels like jello, your knees almost weak with excitement.

“Celebratory beer, anyone?” Steve asks, pulling a six-pack from the fridge.

You each take a bottle and cheers to ‘making an album’. Robin scurries off to ring Nancy, practically tripping over her feet on the way to the phone. You and the guys hover around the kitchen counter in content silence, just smiling at each other like idiots. This could really be the start of everything.

Robin enters the room once more after hanging up the phone, sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter and laughing to herself, spinning on the rotating seat.

“I just told Nance the news, oh my god, I hope I didn’t jinx our luck or something. This is like, totally a miracle and I usually don’t believe in miracles but maybe I should start,” Robin rambles nervously, all flailing hands as she talks. “Oh my god, wait! I’m gonna turn that into a line for my song…..” she trails off as she walks to the living room to grab her lyric book.

The rest of the group exchanges knowing glances at each other, because yeah, this certainly was a miracle - and you were going to take a chance on it.

May 24th, 1972. Indianapolis, Indiana.

It’s an unusually hot day for May in Indiana when the band pulls up to The Corner that Friday night, your skin prickling with sweat beneath your crochet top. You open the passenger door to Eddie’s vehicle, a burnt orange VW bus that he saved up for for years, the perfect size for carting around the whole band and your equipment. You step out onto the street, the hustle and bustle of the city whirring around you. Car horns honking, kids whizzing by on bicycles, music playing from somewhere you couldn’t detect. You were taking in the sights, looking up at the sign above the entrance to the club, where your band name sat in big black letters across the white board. Eddie sidled up beside you, snaking an arm around your waist and kissing the top of your head.

“I can’t fucking believe it, Eds. That’s our band listed up there. I just… wow,” you shake your head, laughing giddily as you do.

“Believe it, baby. We’re movin’ up in the world,” he grins at you.

He presses a kiss to your lips before walking around to the back of the van, helping the others unload your gear. The group heads inside and you’re all instantly greeted by the owner of the establishment, a big burly man with a handlebar mustache.

“Ah! You must be The Rumors, am I right?” he asks, grinning widely at the bunch of you.

“Yep, that’s us, pleasure to meet you,” Steve stretches out a hand for him to shake, and the rest of you follow suit.

He introduces himself as Mitch before he shows you to the stage and tells you where the bathrooms are in case you need to spruce yourselves up before your set time later. He wishes you all luck and with that, he heads back to his post at the bar.

Time passes quickly as you work to set up the small stage, plugging in amps, tuning guitars, making sure you don’t trip over any cords in the process. Robin brought Nancy along with her so she could take photos of the gig tonight. Nancy had basically become the band’s personal photographer, taking photos at practices and every gig you’ve played so far, collecting tangible memories of your time together. It was sweet, really, and she loved having an excuse to follow Robin around. You and Eddie sing bits and pieces of a couple different songs to make sure the mics are sounding right, before the full band joins for a quick run-through of the five songs you’ll be playing this evening. It sounds great, you have to admit, but only time will tell if it’s good enough to get you an album deal.

Later that evening, you find yourself peeking out from behind the heavy velvet curtain, scanning the scattered tables on the floor. When your eyes land on none other than Scott Pierce, you feel yourself swallow a lump in your throat. He sits at a table alone, talking to a thin blonde woman and sipping on a beer. Robin comes up behind you and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“Is he out there?” She asks in a whisper, even though no one would be able to hear the two of you anyways.

“Yeah… yeah he is. Are you ready for this?” you glance over your shoulder at her, eyeing her nervously.

“Honestly, I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been. But I’m also excited. Optimistic. This is our moment,” she smiles warmly at you and you can’t help but ease up. “All we gotta do is play our little hearts out like it doesn’t matter who’s watching.”

“You’re right. This is our moment. Let’s fucking do this,” you grin back, squeezing her in a tight hug.

The rest of the band is bustling in the small backstage area, Steve fixing his hair in a handheld mirror he brought, Gareth asking Eddie for his opinion on which shirt he should wear tonight (and Eddie getting incredibly frustrated because ‘it’s the same fucking shirt man, that one’s just a slightly lighter denim’). And he’s right, Gareth is holding up two almost identical denim button ups, one being a slightly lighter wash than the other - barely noticeable at a glance.

“Fifteen minutes till we’re on, guys, let’s get the show on the road,” you say as you head to the bathroom to fix your makeup.

You look at yourself in the mirror, pleased with your appearance. You wear an off-white long sleeve top that stops just above your belly button, exposing some skin but not too much, and the sleeves billow out at your wrists. An olive green suede skirt embroidered with flowers rests on your hips, and on your feet you wear short white boots with a chunky heel. Gold hoop earrings rest in your ears and a few different necklaces dangle low on your chest. You smudge some black eyeliner around your eyes and apply a generous layer of mascara to your lashes. Satisfied with the look, you ruffle your hair and put the makeup back in your bag. You take a deep breath in, grounding yourself, hyping yourself up for what you’re about to do.

You step out of the bathroom and run into Eddie, looking gorgeous in his dark denim bell bottoms and a red button up shirt, the top three buttons undone, exposing his pale chest and the gold chain he wears around his neck.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he smiles at you, grabbing your waist and pulling you in to kiss you all over.

“Hi handsome, you ready to play?” you smile back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, sweets. Let’s rock n roll,” and with that, he’s pulling you backstage, eager and buzzing to start the show.

You hear Mitch speaking into the microphone on the stage, greeting everyone that’s gathered and thanking them for bringing business in. He keeps his speech short before announcing that there’d be a live band playing this evening for everyone.

“Ladies and gents, let’s give a warm welcome to The Rumors!” he steps off the stage, clapping with the rest of the club’s patrons.

And with that, you’re walking out onto the tiny stage, staring out at the startlingly large crowd packed in such a small space. Your eyes fall on Scott in the crowd once again, and this time his eyes meet yours. You feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest. Everyone positions themselves accordingly on stage, and you all exchange glances, giving one another encouraging nods and smiles. Nancy sits close to the stage with her camera and gives you all a thumbs up. The lights over the floor dim, focusing all of the attention on the five twenty-something year olds that stand eager behind their instruments and microphones.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Robin’s starting the show off on the keys. The first song of the night is Don’t Stop. You all deemed that to be the appropriate first track seeing as that was the song Eddie sent over to Scott’s office. Eddie sings the first lines into the microphone, taking charge like a natural. He’s always been like this, always had a knack for commanding attention onto him, enthralling an entire room with his energy. It’s no different when he’s on stage - in fact it’s even more powerful. Robin and Eddie sing together on this song, you don’t have any vocals on this one, so you flounce around on stage with your tambourine, grooving to the beat and letting the music flow through you.

You don’t realize it, but you captivate the audience just as much as Eddie does, if not more. Strikingly beautiful up on the stage as you dance around, the lights making your jewelry sparkle. Eddie watches the way you move, loves seeing you in your element like this. He hopes he’ll get to see you up on stage every night, selling out stadiums together.

By the end of the first song you feel your nerves washing away, your body freeing up gradually and letting you just flow. Next song up is an upbeat, folky little number that Eddie wrote, titled Second Hand News. Once again, you aren’t supposed to sing on this one, but you end up walking over to Eddie’s mic and singing harmony on the chorus with him. If anyone thought you two were captivating on your own, your energy together is electric, so much power behind both of your voices combined. Scott notes this as he watches you from the audience, can’t tear his eyes away from you and Eddie. You have something special, and he can tell.

Finally, as the third song starts, it’s your time to sing. You’ve been working on a song, Rhiannon, and you don’t feel like it’s quite complete but the rough version works for now. It’s slower than the first two numbers, your voice crooning into the microphone as you sing of the fictional woman you’ve dreamed up in your head. You’re expressive while you sing, arms extending and moving freely, the fabric of your shirt sleeves draping down and flowing with every movement. The band does minimal backing vocals in the chorus, but otherwise this song is your moment. Eddie watches you absolutely awestruck, and he swears the crowd has collectively leaned forward, craning to hear every word that leaves your lips.

The final two songs are covers, and when your set is over the audience claps and cheers, a much more rowdy applause than you expected. Eddie thanks everyone for listening tonight and the five of you take a big bow, arm in arm, before exiting the stage. Backstage, everyone is chatting excitedly, congratulating each other on a job well done. Eddie’s standing behind you, long arms wrapped around you as you blush at Robin’s praise over your Rhiannon performance. The chatter stops when Mitch comes to the back, bringing Scott Pierce with him.

“Well, you guys had one hell of a show tonight,” Scott says, way friendlier than you expected him to be.

“Mr. Pierce, thank you so much for coming tonight. I’m Eddie, this is Y/N, Steve, Robin, and Gareth,” Eddie introduces each of you, and Scott greets you all warmly.

“It’s my pleasure, really. I’m very pleasantly surprised by the talent you guys have, that was some serious stuff up there,” he praises you, and you catch Steve’s eye as he grins at you from over Scott’s shoulder, mouthing ‘He likes us!’.

“That means so much to us, really,” you reply. “We love making music, it’s a dream to be here tonight.”

“I can tell you all have a lot of passion for this band. Eddie, you were the one who spoke with Linda at my office, right? What do you say we chit chat for a little, privately?” Eddie nods, motioning for Scott to lead the way to a table.

He turns around and gives you all a quick thumbs up, and the rest of you all jump around like hyper children. The time that Eddie’s gone feels like an eternity, and you’re waiting with baited breath to hear what Scott pitched to your boyfriend. What if it’s not the offer you want? You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t gotten your hopes up, dreaming of releasing an album and going on tour, playing sold out shows with your best friends every single night since Eddie told you all that he got you a gig. Not hearing what you want from Scott would feel like a punch to the gut.

“Relax darlin’, you look all tense over here,” Gareth places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a lopsided smile. “We’re gonna be fine, he really liked us.”

You don’t get a chance to respond before the curtain is ripped open and Eddie is running over to you, picking you up and spinning you around.

“Guess who’s making a fucking record!?” he hollers, setting you down and holding your hands in his.

“No way, Eddie! No way, are you serious?” you’re yelling back at him, Gareth, Steve, Robin, and now Nancy all gathering around you.

“We’re making an album! He fucking loved us, we got an offer to start recording at Sound City in California, a meeting with a big label. If all goes well, we’ll be touring, topping the fucking charts,” Eddie is beaming, talking a mile a minute.

The room fills with a chorus of excited cheering and shouting, the whole bunch of you having a group hug. You feel your eyes well up with happy tears as you look around at your friends, all smiles. Robin pulls Nancy into a kiss, Eddie ruffles Gareth’s hair, and you’re hugging Steve tight, probably staining his shirt with your watery eyes.

After you’ve all thanked Scott profusely and made loose plans to be in California within the next few weeks, the band packs up their gear and you all hit the road back to Hawkins. The energy in the van is different on the ride home, all of you singing loudly along to whatever comes on the radio, each of you dreaming up the wildest ideas of superstardom.

Later that night, back at home, you’re in bed with Eddie. Riding him slowly, holding a joint to your lips as you take a hit before passing it back to him. A window is open, night air warm with the promise of the approaching summer as it wafts in through the screen. Eddie hums blissfully beneath you, dark curls sprawled across the pillow under his head. You love intimate moments like this with Eddie, but as much as you want to focus on him right now, your mind wanders. He catches this, unsurprisingly. He can always sense a shift in your mood.

“What’s on that mind of yours, dove?” he asks, putting the joint in the ashtray on the nightstand.

“I dunno…. it’s silly,” you sigh, not meeting his gaze as those big brown eyes stare up at you.

“Baby, nothing is silly if it’s bothering you. Talk to me,” he coos, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You stop the slow rocking of your hips and tilt your cheek into his touch. “I’m just…. scared, Ed. I’m so happy we got this offer, it’s everything you and I have wanted since high school. But - I don’t know,” you stop yourself, chewing on your lip. Eddie rubs his thumb along your cheek, silently encouraging you to keep talking. “What if this changes everything, babe? What if fame is too much for us, what if it destroys us… comes between us….” you trail off, eyes searching his for an answer.

“My little dove, nothing is going to come between us,” Eddie says, voice soft but serious. “I love you more than words - you’re my world, baby, and I’m so excited to do all of these big things with you by my side,” his hands run up and down the sides of your body, relaxing you. “This is a big change for us, moving out to the West Coast, starting a new life. But I’ll be with you every step of the way. I love you so much.”

You giggle, leaning down to kiss him as he beckons you with a curling finger. His words always have a way of soothing you, his voice sweet like honey as it coaxes you out of your anxious headspace.

“I love you, too. I really can’t wait to have this life with you, Eddie.”

The next couple hours are spent with you two tangled up between the sheets, Eddie making passionate love to you, as you come undone again and again for him. You reassure yourself that while taking the next step into fame might be intimidating, you’ve got Eddie, and your best friends, and you’re gonna be fine.

June 18th, 1972. Los Angeles, California.

The band has arrived on the West Coast. The last couple weeks since your show at The Corner were full of packing your essential belongings, spending time with friends and family as much as possible before you left, writing snippets of songs together here and there so you have something to work off of when it’s time to start recording. The day your road trip to California started, you were misty-eyed saying goodbye to your loved ones. Eddie’s Uncle Wayne even shed a few tears himself, which never happens, and he laughed as Eddie teased him about it - “You getting soft on me, old man?”.

As the five of you drove out of Hawkins, you looked out the back window of the vehicle, saying a silent ‘thank you’ to the town that gave you your start - the town that brought your band together. A bittersweet feeling coursed through you as you cruised past the sign that read ‘Leaving Hawkins. Come Back Soon!’.

The trip to LA didn’t feel as long as it really was, Eddie and Steve taking turns driving the van as you, Robin, and Gareth played cards in the back to pass time, or sang obnoxiously to the radio. Some nights the rumble of the van’s tires on pavement lulled you to sleep as the drive continued on through the darkness. Sometimes you’d take the passenger seat and stay up late with Eddie as he drove under the glow of streetlights. Other nights were filled with the squeaky mattresses and peeling wallpaper of rundown motels that would house you when the task of driving overnight seemed impossible, the electric glow of vacancy signs flashing softly in through the window as you slept in Eddie’s arms, dreaming of world tours and screaming fans.

You documented bits of every single day in your journal, finding comfort in writing things down, your thoughts and feelings throughout the process of a drastic lifestyle change. Robin made sure to pick up various postcards from rest stops along the way to send to Nancy, who wouldn’t be joining you guys in Cali for another 2 weeks. Many quarters were used on payphone calls, each of you calling one person or another back home to let them know how things were going, what state you were in now, and so on. You made sure to take photos whenever you could on your disposable camera - catching Robin and Steve at a rest stop in Nevada, frozen in ridiculous poses as they stretched their sore limbs. There’s one of Gareth asleep in the back of the van, with a mustache drawn on his face in marker - courtesy of Eddie, of course. One taken by Steve of Eddie giving you a piggyback ride through a gas station parking lot, you laughing wildly. All in all, you had a blast on your road trip, as tiring as it was at times. You knew it was leading you to bigger and better things, and that made it more than worth it.

When you arrive to Los Angeles at long last, the evening glow washing over the landscape, Steve pulls the van into the gravelly driveway of the house you guys were renting for the time being, nestled in Laurel Canyon. There was plenty of unpacking to be done, and a meeting with Scott and some producers and label executives at Sound City tomorrow. But before any of it, you needed to sleep in a real bed. You claim a room to serve as yours and Eddie’s, and immediately flop yourself down on the soft mattress. Before long you feel Eddie climb in beside you as you drift to sleep, his long arm wrapping around your waist, and his soft breathing lulling you into peaceful slumber.

The following morning, the house is off the walls with energy. Everyone is excited and also nervous to get the show on the road, eager to start recording some songs. You all scramble to get ready, making yourselves presentable and each downing enough coffee to kill a horse. You have to practically drag Eddie out of the bathroom when it’s time to leave, insisting that yes his hair looked good and yes you liked his outfit and you had to go like right now or you were going to be late and make a horrible impression. Tires peel out of the driveway after loading everyone into the vehicle, and you watch out the windows as you drive down roads unfamiliar to you. You gaze up at the palm trees and white puffy clouds, smiling and waving at people on street corners who caught your eye. The whole city seemed to welcome you, opening up before you and inviting you in.

When you pull into the studio parking lot, you notice Scott waiting by the door, smiling warmly at you all. He shakes everyone’s hands in greeting as he welcomes you to LA, asking about your drive out and making pleasant conversation. He leads you in through the large doors and into the lobby, where a handful of presumably important people are waiting for you, dressed in suits and polished dress shoes. You suddenly feel out of place, standing there in your crochet halter top and a pair of denim shorts, flimsy ankle boots on your feet. No one seems to pay any mind, though, and you’re greeted brightly by all of the new faces. Scott introduces all of them, and wastes no time delving into the business aspect of it all. A couple hours go by answering questions about what your band is looking for, what direction you’d like to head in, going over potential contract info, so on and so forth.

By early afternoon you’re officially signed to a label, set to release an album and go on tour for it. It all felt so surreal, your head spinning as you’d signed your name to the contract, sloping cursive letters beneath finely printed details. The label representatives had asked if you had any songs that were ready to record as single material, wanting to get your band name out there as soon as possible. You’d all agreed that Don’t Stop made the most sense to release as the first single, given that it was really the song that got you here in the first place. It was upbeat and catchy, got stuck in your head, and it wasn’t too long but wasn’t too short. You’d agreed to record it that very day and, if you got a good take, you’d send it off to the label. In the meantime, Scott informed you he’d gotten you some gigs on the Sunset Strip and other nearby sites, playing the Whiskey a Go-Go, the Troubadour, the hot spots. He thought it would be a great way to spread the word about you guys before your first single hit the radio, to really get the anticipation brewing.

Things were a whirlwind after that.

Nancy joined you guys in California, dead set on working as the band’s official photographer, unwilling to let some pompous Hollywood asshole take her place. You began playing the gigs Scott had lined up for you as promised, gathering genuinely large crowds - at least large in your eyes - and by the end of July, Don’t Stop was released as The Rumors’ first single. Everywhere you went, you’d find yourself catching your song on the radio. Your boyfriend’s voice, playing over the speakers of local diners, grocery stores, blasting from the speakers of convertibles that drove down the city streets. It performed well, for a debut single from a previously never-heard-of band. People enjoyed it, they wanted more. The summer was filled with song writing, meetings with more and more important people who’d be working on your team, interviews with magazines and newspapers. And, notably, from the very beginning people took an interest in you and Eddie’s relationship. They thought it was sweet that you two were living out your shared dream, saw potential for the romance to bring good lyrical content.

The album was set to be completed and released by the end of the year, which meant many long nights writing and recording and re-recording. You had a decent track list planned out, an album of ten songs, perfect for a debut record. Don’t Stop would, of course, be on there. Robin’s You Make Loving Fun and your Rhiannon, which you’d been working hard to get polished to your liking. Second Hand News, and a new song Steve wrote for Robin to sing, called Say You Love Me. You and Eddie wrote a sweet duet titled Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around, an angsty love song that you knew would get crowds riled up as you sang it to each other. Monday Morning, I’m so Afraid, and Landslide would join the rest, the latter being written by you after having a sentimental late night talk with Robin, thinking about change and how scary growing up can be, much inspired by your recent lifestyle change, of course. Everywhere was the last song added to the track list, ultimately pushing some others off the table for the time being. You and Robin wrote Everywhere together, very much with your respective partners in mind, the lyric ‘I wanna be with you everywhere’ serving as an ode to your devotion to travel anywhere work takes you with Eddie, and Nancy’s willingness to follow Robin.

Eddie’s favorite nights were the ones where you and him stayed up practicing your songs, trying to record the perfect take even if it meant being in the studio till four in the morning. You’d share cheap wine and get high, roaming hands and stolen kisses on exposed skin eventually leading the two of you to get in the bus and go home, stumbling into bed and immersing yourselves in one another. One particular night found you bent over the arm of the couch in the studio, Eddie’s fingers sinking into the skin of your hips as he drove into you from behind. He was so eager to have you he couldn’t even wait until he got you home. He had you right where he wanted you, listening to your pretty noises as he watched his cock sink into you.

“Mmph, Eddie, what if someone comes in here?” you ask, voice staggered as your body lurched with every thrust he gave you.

“It’s late at night, baby, no one’s gonna walk in. Everyone else is probably out at the bars,” he reassures you, leaning down to press kisses up your spine. “Love having you like this, little dove, pussy’s so greedy for me.”

You babble incoherently for him as he works you to climax, pulling out of you after he’d filled you with his spend. You redressed your bottom half, adjusting your skirt as you sat down on the worn fabric of the couch, Eddie’s cum dripping down onto it.

“Christ, babe, I’m gonna get hard every time we walk in here now,” Eddie murmured, stealing a kiss from you as you tried to get back to work.

You ended up writing a song that night, inspiration striking you randomly. You titled it Leather and Lace, a love song very much inspired by the man that had you head over heels for him. You sang it to Eddie softly in the dim light of your bedroom after arriving back home that night, and he ended up adding another verse, making it into a duet. And for now, it stayed just between the two of you, a private declaration of the love between both of you.

When you guys weren’t in the studio or busy with other band tasks, you were indulging in the California night scene, going to bars and dancing at clubs. You’d often drink till the room was spinning and your skin was tingling, laughing with Eddie at every little thing, just to barely remember the evening’s events the following morning.

Come September, your label was pushing to release a second single, leaving it up to the five of you to decide which song you wanted to push through. You knew that everyone else wanted Rhiannon as the next single, but you were admittedly nervous to put the song out into the world as a stand-alone. That song is one you regarded as being your baby, and so you sit chewing on your fingernails as the rest of your band tries to persuade you that this is the song.

“Come on, Dove. It’s a great song, and you know it,” Gareth says, sitting across from you with his elbows on his knees, leaning forward to try and level with you.

“The world needs to hear that beautiful voice of yours before this album comes out,” Robin chimes in. “What’re you afraid of, love?”

“I just- I love this song,” you say. “And I know that the whole ‘being famous’ thing is going to invite criticism, and negative opinions, and all of it. But I just don’t know if I’m ready to deal with hearing slander for this song if people don’t end up liking it,” you lean into Eddie who’s sat beside you, his big hand rubbing your arm reassuringly.

“They’re gonna love it, baby, because you’re phenomenal in everything you do,” he encourages. “You know I’ve been saying since the day you wrote it that I just have a feeling this song will be pivotal for us,” and the rest of the group nods in agreement.

You ponder this, chewing your lip and picking at the frayed edges of your denim shorts.

“Fine. Rhiannon it is.”

It turns out that Eddie was right, and Rhiannon performed insanely well, coming out at #10 on the charts. People at your gigs on The Strip had heard this song performed, and had clearly been eagerly awaiting its hopeful release. Naturally, Eddie wouldn’t let you live it down. You’re sitting in the kitchen a few days after the song’s release, eating breakfast when Eddie comes barreling in. He immediately turns on the radio with clumsy fingers as he pops a piece of bread into the toaster. Sure enough, Rhiannon was playing on the station, and Eddie starts singing along.

“Gee, I wonder who sings this song?” he asks around a mouthful of banana.

You look over at him and roll your eyes, chuckling at how he’s dancing across the floor.

“Man, I sure would love to be the guy who gets to sleep next to her every night, she’s got the voice of an angel,” he swoons dramatically, making you laugh even further when he accidentally drops his banana.

“Whoops,” he shrugs, taking his toast out of the toaster and applying an obscene amount of chunky peanut butter on it, before sitting across from you at the table.

He grabs your hand as the song finishes, squeezing it as if to say ‘I’m so proud of you’. You couldn’t help but smile. He’s always been your number one supporter, it’s no surprise he’s acting this way now.

The song was big then and it only got bigger, people couldn’t get enough. In the coming weeks it was played even more frequently and in even more places than Don’t Stop had been. People started recognizing the band out in public, specifically you and Eddie, and you got to sign your first autographs to some giddy girls who stopped you outside of a record shop.

To say the months after that were a blur is an understatement, the five of you being whipped into newfound fame faster than you could comprehend. Your album, simply titled with your band name, was released in November. It was performing extremely well, Rhiannon really being the catalyst that made people excited to hear more from you. Talks of tour were near constant, deciding on dates, cities, the setlist. It was set to begin in March, rehearsals set to start in January. Ultimately, you all decided it made the most sense to play the entire album on tour, given that it was only ten songs. You’d throw in a few covers for good measure, ones that really showcased the flare you guys could bring to music.

The world was loving The Rumors, and you guys were absolutely enjoying the fame. It seemed as though everywhere you went now, somebody wanted your autograph, or simply came up to say they love the record. The five of you adjusted to your new lives slowly yet rather confidently, letting your hard work be praised by the masses. It felt good to finally be more than a band playing bars with a crowd of ten drunk patrons, and you’d tell that to any interviewer who would listen. As exciting as it all was, you were looking forward to having a little bit of a break before the chaos of tour and rehearsals would begin. Scott had told you guys to take a couple of weeks off for the holidays, insisting that you all absolutely deserved to relax. The band would pick back up in the new year, but for now, you could spend some time laying low.

December 20th, 1972. Hawkins, Indiana.

You and Eddie had flown back home to Hawkins to celebrate Christmas. You were eager to snuggle into the coziness of home, enjoy the snow and the colorful lights and the nostalgia of the season. Steve and Gareth had stayed in California, Steve not really having a reason to come home what with his parents always being gone, and Gareth having invited his family out to the West Coast for a warm and sunny holiday. Robin and Nancy were coming back to Hawkins as well, but a couple days after your and Eddie’s arrival. You step out of the rental car Eddie had snagged for your time at home, the cold chill of the air whipping your face. You wrap your coat tighter around your frame, realizing just how accustomed you’d grown to the warm and sunny California weather. Eddie walks around to the back of the car, his thick jacket lined with Sherpa keeping him insulated as he grabs your suitcases from the trunk. His nose is red from the chill of the air as he quickly walks the suitcases up to the front door of your family home, where your parents and Wayne should be waiting on your arrival. The front door opens before you can even grab the doorknob, your dad welcoming you into the warmth of your home.

“There’s our favorite rockstars!” he jokes, making you roll your eyes as you hug him in greeting.

Your mom rushes to the door, pulling you into a hug and then Eddie after the suitcases are handed off to your dad. Wayne gives you one of his signature tight hugs and a kiss on the side of your head, just like he always used to, before pulling Eddie into a bear hug that seems to last minutes. You head up to your old room once the greetings are over, and you find yourself overwhelmed with nostalgia. You hadn’t even been in California a year, and yet coming home felt like something you’d hadn’t done in decades. You squeeze the teddy bear that sits on your bed, your childhood friend that you’d ultimately decided to leave here during the move. You inhale the scent of home within the bear, your body feeling warm and you can’t help but smile.

“You okay, Dove?” Eddie asks, stepping into your room and wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Yeah. Just happy to be home,” you smile, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He gives you an understanding smile back. It’s good to be home.

Not much has changed in the sleepy town of Hawkins, other than the fact that posters of your band are plastered just about everywhere. Your town has always had your back, so it’s no surprise they’re proudly showing off and saying ‘Hey, look! We’re that town where The Rumors are from!’. You even run into some girls from high school, begging for autographs from you and Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even give them the time of day before he’s pulling you away just as you’d uncapped your marker, mumbling something about ‘they hated me in high school, what do they deserve an autograph for?’.

The holidays come and go quite quickly, Christmas being spent wrapped in Eddie’s arms in cozy matching sweaters, singing carols for family while Eddie played his acoustic. The new year rolled in with Eddie pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips, the taste of sweet wine on his tongue, and whispered promises of making this year a fantastic one. Being back at home made you feel comfortably small again, a stark contrast to the ever growing spotlight that’s been placed on you in California. Of course, you’re over the moon to be getting such success, but being surrounded with family in your childhood home brings you a different kind of peace. You’re inevitably teary when it comes time for you and Eddie to fly back to LA, hugging your parents and Wayne goodbye, sniffling into a tissue. You hold Eddie’s hand almost the entire flight back, letting him reassure you in the way his thumb rubs over your hand. Getting back to Cali meant you’d be hitting the ground running, a short couple of months until tour was set to start. If only you’d known that this would be the calm before the storm.

taglist: @hargrovesswifee @lofaewrites @tiannamortis @munson-blurbs @manda-panda-monium

[sundaynightlive]

Fresh Night Air [Book was there, it was there…](Greatwise)

Disclaimers: No age gap shit. They’re 16 and 17 respectively.

Also: I do not hate Mike or any of Will’s friends—I’m just exploring the way they might tip toe around him after all the shite he’s been through.

Realistically: I ship Byler. But I like healthy love interests MOST and whatever’s going on in ST right now is not that, so why not throw a Gareth in there?

If it’s not your thing, I get it :) I only wanted to write a sweet little happy-Will fic with LIGHT angst for like two seconds. If you’re going, have a good rest of your day <3 peace and love darlings.

If you’re staying, enjoy :)

“Gareth Emerson,” the boy introduces, and Will shakes his hand over the table. He’s still a little pissed about his friends joining another party while he was in California, but when’s the last time Mike took anything Will said seriously, ever?

He shouldn’t be surprised.

They sit back down—across from each other, no less—and turn their attention to Eddie now that they’ve all been decently acquainted. The DM claps his hands together and rubs his palms excitedly—despite Will’s initial annoyance at being completely and utterly betrayed, he actually really likes Eddie, fangs and all. He’s cool, he’s nice, and he’s the only Upside Down monster that doesn’t wanna kill or eat any of them, save for the occasional half-cup of blood that seems to satisfy him completely.

They had all been astounded at the convenience of that—blood being so filling.

Or maybe Eddie’s affliction hadn’t fully taken by the time they got his body out of the Upside Down and a troupe of federal scientists pumped him full of drugs—they aren’t totally sure.

Either way, he’s a sad excuse for a vampire, and a completely awesome dungeon master.

“Good evening, intrepid heroes, and welcome to my eighth,” Eddie pauses, as if he’s in awe of that number himself, “And best campaign yet. Drumroll, please!” Will starts a little as the boys around him (plus Erica) begin to pound on the table with their fists. Will joins them after a moment, allowing himself to grin both at the nerdiness, and the undeniable giddy excitement that’s filling his chest and shoulders.

Eddie uses his hands to push his feet up on his seat—his throne, really—and then stands, throwing his arms out wide—

“Plight of the Hellwalkers!” A cheer rises up from the table, as if any of them know what that means other than tieflings and devils and the sort. Maybe something celestial, if any of them are feeling particularly combatant. Will’s already got all these ideas forming in his brain—he’s known for being pretty creative when it comes to PC’s. Will the Wise hadn’t exactly been the height of ingenuity, but Mike hadn’t always wanted to DM a complicated character—he just wanted to run impossible dungeons and make his players sweat.

Eddie’s a different story.

Will’s running all kinds of characters through his brain when he notices Gareth looking at him. Will would’ve thought he’d be chatting with all the other boys, or even with Eddie since the two of them seem to be pretty close—but no. He’s looking at Will.

Hesitantly, Will makes eye-contact with him. Gareth doesn’t seem bothered about getting caught staring. Will’s brows furrow—this is… weird. They just met not even five minutes ago.

What? He mouths.

Gareth holds up a finger, like he’s gonna tell Will in a second. Will’s confused by this (because when are they gonna have a second?) until Eddie announces today’s session is all about working on PC’s, and in order to keep the campaign interesting and fun, he’d like them all to leave the room and come back in one by one so he can get a brief idea of each character, by the end of today, and hopefully by next session, have everything ready to go.

And then he says—

“Gareth, you first. And then Mike. And after that I don’t care who goes when—figure it out.” Gareth gives Will one last glance. He raises an eyebrow. Then, he absentmindedly looks over at Eddie, and finds he’s staring daggers into the side of Gareth’s skull.

What is happening?

Still perplexed, he leaves the auditorium with his friends, unable to shake the feeling that he’s being discussed in the room they left behind. He picks at his clothes—his nice, plaid button-down and his khakis. He feels kind of stupid—everyone else has a Hellfire t-shirt of some sort—all his friends in a baseball tee, and some of the older members in what are probably older t-shirts. All Eddie’s school-allocated budget must go towards them—Will’s certain they probably don’t get more than fifty bucks, if that.

“So?”

Will starts as Mike throws an arm around his shoulders, completely oblivious to how that affects him.

“Isn’t it fucking awesome?”

Will snorts at the profanity—Mike’s been cussing more and more since he started tailing Eddie like a lost puppy. Will assumes he thinks it makes him sound cool—not that he has anything against cussing, it’s just a little funny to him that Mike never talked like that before.

“Totally,” Will says, letting a little sarcasm seep into his tone, “You just couldn’t resist breaking your promise, could you?” Mike’s eyes widen—deer caught in headlights.

“I–it’s—you never said anything about extracurriculars!” Mike tries, and Lucas and Dustin burst out laughing at the lame attempt at an excuse. Will rolls his eyes, shrugging off Mike’s arm.

“Asshole,” he mumbles. Lucas and Dustin roar with more laughter as Mike looks for other excuses—Eddie this, Dustin that—

“Dustin didn’t promise me anything,” Will points out, and Mike groans.

“Dog house!” Erica is teasing, “Mike’s in troooooubleeeee.”

Truth be told, Mike’s not in trouble. There was certainly an initial sting—the only thing Will had asked of him had not been honored—but beyond that, Will’s not fond of holding grudges, especially given he knows full well how quickly life can go from bad to worse.

It’s just fun to watch Mike squirm.

“I’m sorryyyyyy,” Mike whines, “But Eddie’s just so cool and I couldn’t say no!” He puts both hands on Will’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. Will bites his lip to stifle his grin—the way Mike is pouting at him for forgiveness is equal parts adorable and hilarious.

“Forgive me?”

Will shakes his head, still biting back that grin.

“Figure out how to make it up to me—then we’ll talk.”

Mike straightens up, puts two fingers against his forehead, and dramatically salutes. Will loses the ability to stifle his grin and fully laughs at this ridiculousness.

They’re alive, they’re friends again, and Will’s desperate crush is dwindling by the day seeing how happy his sister is. Will couldn’t stay mad at his best friend for anything, and he won’t go on liking him, either.

Things are okay. Things are on their way to good, again.

“Wheeler—get your bony ass in there.”

And that’s Gareth.

“You—” he points directly at Will, exactly like Will figured he might, “Can I steal you for a second?”

Will stands. He doesn’t miss the confused look that Mike gives him, but he does choose to ignore it, mostly because he’s equally as confused. Gareth motions for Will to follow him outside, and sensing no danger or malintent, he decides there’s no point in saying no, especially since he’s not certain how long he’s gonna be sitting bored on this bench otherwise.

“Okay,” Gareth says, once the doors are shut firmly behind them. The night air is cool and nice on Will’s skin. He wants to take a deep breath—relish in all this comfort of being home, of being able to breathe—but he doesn’t know if Gareth would clock that weird reaction to just stepping out. So he tells himself he’ll take that moment later. “I had a crazy idea, and I wanted to know if you’d be down.”

Will raises an eyebrow.

“I’m listening.”

“So, totally shoot me down if you have a better idea, but I think it would be sick to play as angels—you know, since it’s a hell campaign—but specifically an Angel still in line with Heaven’s order, and a fallen one. So, they like, know each other super well, but also are at odds with each other, and like, one’s trying to convince the other to fall and vice versa.”

Gareth looks at him expectantly. Will stares back, trying to comprehend how Gareth even…

Gareth must have read his mind.

There’s no other explanation for how spot on that idea is compared to all the concepts he’d had running around in his own head mere moments ago. And not only that, but Gareth is looking at him like… how did Will not notice he looked like that, before? Why is it only now that—

“Hello? Earth to Byers?” Will starts. Right—he has to answer.

“Yeah—I mean, that sounds awesome,” he manages, cheeks growing pink in embarrassment. He looks away from Gareth’s cool gaze, unsure how to handle the feelings he’s feeling at this moment. Excitement, anxiety—and a myriad of other things he doesn’t feel right naming yet.

“Awesome,” Gareth repeats, slugging him lightly in the shoulder. Will’s whole stomach jumps into his throat.

This cannot be happening.

“So, if you’re down, I’m free tomorrow night. We could kick it at my place and talk background and logistics and shit.”

That’s a terrible idea.

“Sounds great,” Will says, and in his mind he’s repeatedly kicking the shit out of his own kneecaps. He wishes he were a stronger man, but the idea of playing a character that’s not only complex in his own way, but has a strained relationship to another PC? It’s too good to pass up. Plus, Gareth already talked to Eddie, so Will get’s to play under a DM who’s capable of managing that kind of storyline—it fills his chest with something downright palpable.

“Fuck, I’m excited,” Gareth says.

“Me, too.”

Will wonders briefly if his internal criticism of Mike’s cussing was spoken way too soon.

-

Gareth’s bedroom is a dream—Will would call it a loft, but that’s not exactly what it is. It’s adjacent to the attic, an alcove that sticks out from the roof and makes the house look both magical and completely ridiculous. All sides of it are fitted with windows, and in between those, the walls are a deep, navy blue. For the most part, it’s immaculately clean apart from misplaced shoes and a sock or two.

The slivers of walls which are not windows are covered with intense shelving that holds both an extensive collection of cassettes and vinyls, and books. Will wouldn’t have guessed Gareth was a reader, but by the looks of it, he’s practically a library.

The carpet is soft, the bed is big and covered with an enormous quilt. There are soft white Christmas lights hanging throughout the space, creating an inviting glow. Gareth tells Will to drop his bag anywhere, so Will finds the most out-of-the-way corner he possibly can, and sets his stuff down gently. He’s absolutely enamored with the space, but he’s trying not to show it. He could only imagine the teasing that would ensue if he told Gareth the bedroom he spends every night in is like Will’s own personal heaven.

To Will’s further dismay, Gareth plops down on his bed and pats the space next to him. Never in his life did Will expect to be sitting in bed with a cute boy who’s also basically a stranger, but here he is, swallowing his own nervousness and settling down. It’s unbelievably soft. Will let’s his mind wander to what it must be like to sleep there, and then quickly snaps himself out of it.

That’s creepy, he scolds himself. Stop.

“So, did you think of anything in the last 24-hours, or do you wanna start with just the general idea I had?” Gareth asks—and it’s so impossibly normal for how abnormal Will feels. He’s so stiff he might as well be made of wood. Jesus—even his fight or flight is starting to act up.

“Well,” Will says, deciding he’ll force himself to relax by talking, “You know how angels are, like, usually a patron of something? Like, they have a specific purpose, or whatever? I thought we could use something like that to determine our proficiencies, and stuff. I was also thinking that I could be the straight-edge angel and you could be the fallen one? But that’s totally up to you—your idea, your rules.”

Will fidgets nervously with his own hands. Gareth is… actually listening to him. His expression is attentive. Will’s not used to that—so he keeps rambling.

“Also—I like the idea of a sibling dynamic but I thought it would be better if it was strictly a best friends thing? I feel like a lot of D&D overdoes the, like, “you were my brother” thing but meaningful friendships or whatever can be so much more impactful because you choose your friends and stuff, and for a character to choose their person and then lose that person and find them again but still be at odds is just—Sorry, I should shut up. I just realized I’ve been talking for way too long.”

Will wants to melt into the bedspread—hell, he just might.

Gareth grins at him, shaking his head.

“No, totally keep going. You’re brilliant.”

Yup. Melted. Absolutely a liquid. Will doesn’t think he’ll ever be a solid again.

-

Will starts spending an ungodly amount of time with Gareth, but it’s not his fault. His own friends are great, and he spares them every moment he can, but it’s been a long time since being with them has ever felt like this—totally and completely void of tension. His friends… they haven’t been giving him attention freely. It feels weighed down by this notion that they’re forced to hang around because everything they’ve been through.

It’s not fair to think of them that way—he knows they’d still care for him, regardless.

But that pity is stuck behind their eyes. And they won’t talk about things in front of him, like how they’re feeling, how they’re doing. Once, he was hanging around Lucas and Dustin, and they left the room after uttering some lame excuse. Curious and a little hurt, Will had pressed his ear to the door to find Lucas venting about Max, and how she was doing, and how he’s trying to hang out and have fun but she’s all he can think about—half-paralyzed and totally blind, all alone at home when he’s not with her.

It’s selfish, he knows, but he couldn’t help feeling offended. He can be a shoulder—he knows he can be a shoulder. He’s not going to break down the minute someone else needs a hand. They’ve been plenty good for him—he can do the same.

He just needs a chance.

But they won’t give him it, so he loses himself in the simplicity of a brand-new friendship. He and Gareth start just talking over the campaign, and the D&D stuff, but it soon evolves into much more than that. It starts with a book—

“Gertrude Stein,” Will muses, slipping the collection of poetry right off the shelf. He lets it fall open in his palm to a random page. Gareth had gotten bored of devising background and trying to locate biblical information without a bible—so he’d flopped over on the bed and hidden his face in his pillows.

Will had rolled his eyes at him, and went looking for something to entertain himself.

This is where he finds himself, now.

They read a little Gertrude Stein in English, and Will remembers it fondly. He’s not a huge poetry guy, but Stein’s poetry is so ridiculous it actually manages to interest him. It was also generally impossible for most of the class to read aloud, because of it’s insanity, but Will excelled at it. He read it so well, and so succinctly in class, the teacher herself had been shocked.

Maybe his trauma had rewired his brain for nonsensical poetry.

Book was there, it was there. Book was there. Stop it, stop it, it was a cleaner, a wet cleaner and it was not where it was wet, it was not high, it was directly placed back, not back again, back it was returned, it was needless, it put a bank, a bank when, a bank care.

Gareth looks up at him from the pillows curiously, and Will grins in his direction. He begins reading with the utmost conviction, as if anything he’s reading makes a lick of actual sense.

Suppose a man a realistic expression of resolute reliability suggests pleasing itself white all white and no head does that mean soap. It does not so. It means kind wavers and little chance to beside beside rest. A plain.

Suppose ear rings that is one way to breed, breed that. Oh chance to say, oh nice old pole. Next best and nearest a pillar. Chest not valuable, be papered.

Cover up cover up the two with a little piece of string and hope rose and green, green.

Please a plate, put a match to the seam and really then really then, really then it is a remark that joins many many lead games. It is a sister and sister and a flower and a flower and a dog and a colored sky a sky colored grey and nearly that nearly that let.

Will finishes the poem—called Book—and looks back up at Gareth, who seems to be stifling a laugh. Will raises an eyebrow.

“What?” he teases, “Didn’t get that? I’ll read another one.”

Suppose it is within a gate which open is open at the hour of closing summer that is to say it is so.

All the seats are needing blackening. A white dress is in sign. A soldier a real soldier has a worn lace a worn lace of different sizes that is to say if he can read, if he can read he is a size to show shutting up twenty-four.

Go red go red—

Suppose and Eyes is cut off abruptly by a pillow smacking into Will’s chest and falling over the book he’s holding out—an accident which has Gareth absolutely howling with laughter. Will retaliates immediately, tossing the book to the floor and going after Gareth with a pillow.

The rest is history.

They hang out after school, they go to record stores and diners and swimming in the pond behind his house. They have an absolute blast role-playing ex-best friends while becoming best friends, all the while, Will’s fondness growing exponentially every time they share breath. They spend nights at each other’s houses, they talk for hours, they read together, they listen to music together—Will even get’s a little bit into metal, even though it’s not totally his vibe. Weeks and weeks pass—then months. They know everything about each other like the backs of each other’s hands. Will’s friends start making comments about it—Mike especially—and light-heartedly complain that Will is “replacing” them when that is certainly not the case.

They could never be replaced.

But being around Gareth is like magic, up until the moment it’s not.

“Hey… can I talk to you about something?”

Famous last words, but Will is so full of pizza and so content with his back pressed into Gareth’s bed, head resting lightly against the outside of the boy’s knee, that he doesn’t quite grasp the connotation.

He wishes he had—that there had been warning.

“Sure.”

“So… after the earthquake—”

Will should’ve known then and there this was headed in a foul direction, but he was none-the-wiser. He was still half-engrossed in Emily Dickinson, who had grown to be his absolute favorite poet over the last few months.

“Eddie told me everything that happened. And he told me what happened to you.”

This is where it hits him. Will jerks away from Gareth’s knee like it’s scalding, hurt painting over his face as it all crashes over him.

None of this has been any different.

“Will?”

“Are you serious?” Will asks, horror growing in his chest, in his tone. Gareth’s face screws up, a look Will knows all too well—a look he only sports when he’s thoroughly confused.

He must be stupid—Will’s reaction shouldn’t be confusing to him at all.

“I just wanted—”

Everything is tainted. The way Gareth looks at him, acts with him, the way he chose Will out of everyone from that stupid table that first day of Hellfire—he knew. The whole time.

Will is some pathetic charity case who needed a real friend. And he let Will think, this entire time, that he actually liked Will for himself. Not because Will desperately needed to be liked, not because they were bonded by some shared hell, not because Will had suffered, but because Gareth liked him.

It had all been a lie.

“How could you?” Will asks, shakily. He feels tears gathering in his eyes, and he hates himself for it. Now he’s gonna cry like the broken, traumatized baby he really is. The one Gareth has always seen in him. He’s just proving a fucking point.

That’s all he ever does.

“How could I—”

“I can’t believe I let myself be another fucking charity case,” Will hisses, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand as he scrambles to his feet. Gareth seizes his wrist.

“Will—”

Will’s stronger than Gareth—he doesn’t look it, but there’s a lot of muscle beneath his clothes. He makes sure of it—he doesn’t wanna be the victim of anyone or anything ever again. He wrenches his wrist out of the boy’s grasp, pointing at him accusingly with the other.

“You. Suck,” Will snaps, doing his best not to yell. He doesn’t wanna get worked up enough that Gareth sees just how deeply this has stricken him, and part of him, a naive part of him, hates how devastated Gareth already looks. “I can’t believe I thought you actually liked me. I’m so fucking stupid.”

And with that, he snatches his bag up off the floor, and gets the hell out of there.

It’s only when he’s home, past his mom and his brother, and in his bedroom with the door shut tight, that he crawls into his closet and muffles his sobs with his teeth bared into a sweatshirt.

Heartbroken.

-

“Hello?”

“Don’t hang up!” Will should absolutely hang up. It’s been three days of nothing—avoiding Gareth at school, refusing to speak to him, neglecting to answer the phone even when he was nearest to it.

And now, just when it so happened that nobody else was home, Gareth was on the other end of the line.

“I should so hang up,” Will snaps, already angry. He didn’t wanna be reminded. He’s been so fucked up the last few days, it’s almost like Gareth dumped him. In a way, he kind of did. Or, Will did.

Whatever, the details aren’t important. What’s important is that Gareth lied to him. Extensively.

“Listen—I need to talk to you, but I wanna do it in person, okay? Please—just ten minutes of your time, and if it’s not fixed, I’ll never talk to you again. Except at Hellfire. But that’s it! Okay?” Will wishes he had the balls to say fuck no, but it’s too difficult. He allotted months of his life to Gareth, and as much as he hates it, can attribute a ton of his recent healing to him. Being carefree and spending time with Gareth had been exactly what he needed most days to get out of his own head, to stop thinking about things that couldn’t be helped.

A breath of fresh night air, one might say.

Looking back at that now makes Will nauseous, but he swallows it down. He doesn’t exactly want his and Gareth’s time being good friends to forever be tainted by the fact that it had all been out of pity, but Will doesn’t know what he could possibly say to make that better. He sighs into the phone.

“Get here ASAP. And ten minutes is all you get!”

“Sir yes sir!”

-

“Thank you for letting me talk,” Gareth says. Will crosses his arms over his chest. He’s got no intentions of letting Gareth step foot over the threshold, and Gareth seems to be able to tell.

“Ten minutes,” he says firmly, and Gareth nods quickly.

“The first thing I should’ve done when we started hanging out is tell you I knew about the Upside Down,” he says quickly, and yeah, he’s got that fucking right. “I’m really sorry that I hid that from you—I guess I didn’t think you’d wanna talk about it, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have talked about it. I’m sorry.”

“Decent start,” Will says begrudgingly.

“Second, I did not choose you as my D&D partner because I felt bad for you,” Gareth says, and then his face get’s all screwy, and he starts shifting his weight back and forth, like whatever he needs to say is really hard for him to say. He looks left, and then down at his shoes, and then crosses his arms over his chest and let’s out a breath he’d been holding—

“Spit it out.”

“I thought you were cute!” he says, all his words running together, so much so that it takes Will a second to process what he’s even just said, “And I wanted to hang out with you and I thought that if our D&D characters shared a backstory then we’d spend a lot of time together and I’d be able to make a move but I felt bad about making a move knowing stuff about you you hadn’t shared with me so that night I wanted to kiss you so bad but I wanted to talk about what I knew first so that I wasn’t kissing you and then bringing up your childhood trauma because that wouldn’t be smooth at all, but then I messed everything up and—”

Will’s not sure what happens to his body. First of all, he’s absolutely floored at the notion that he wasn’t a charity case or anywhere near that at all—this boy was attracted to him and wanted to be around him. That’s so far out in left-field it’s practically a home run. Second—Gareth likes him? Like that? In small-town, middle-of-nowhere Hawkins, Indiana, a cute boy likes him? And it’s not Mike Wheeler, feelings-denier extraordinaire, or someone Will would rather eat glass than hang around with?

God, it’s Gareth?

He completely loses track of his ability to command his own body—he steps forward, puts both hands around Gareth’s face, and kisses him right on the mouth to shut him the hell up. Will’s never kissed anyone in his life, save for one girl in California, just to prove his own disinterest, but he makes it work. Gareth certainly doesn’t seem to be complaining, the way his arms move securely around Will’s waist and he kisses back with fervor.

They break, both void of breath. The kiss wasn’t exactly long, but all the excitement has Will’s ribs heaving. He presses his forehead into Gareth’s, blushing like crazy and avoiding the eye-contact Gareth’s trying to prompt from him.

“You’re such an idiot,” Will manages between breaths.

“Kiss me again.”

“Definitely.”

-

It was only a few weeks later that things started getting bad again, but they were heavenly weeks of sneaking around, sharing looks when no one was paying attention, and kissing in dark corners. Will started feeling whole again, like the places and things that the Upside Down had stolen from him were things that Gareth could replace, curling up on couches with him, meeting his mom, holding his hand, and treating him like someone who was already whole.

And though he wished, ached to ignore the warning signs, he told Gareth immediately when The Mind Flayer felt like it was slithering closer, lifting the hairs on the back of his neck and tugging at the corners of his mind.

And Gareth had been there, as fresh as summer night air in his lungs, all the way until the end.