#Gareth Time Cat

[who-do-i-know-this-man]

⚠️Vote for whomever YOU DO NOT KNOW⚠️‼️

[midnightfire1222]

I need to redo some of these, like Amy and Sonic cuz I wanna change them a bit, and Tails cuz I've lost the flat color version and can't make a new one right now. For now though, these are the most accurate ones I have. I also don't have one for Shadow, as an outfit hasn't been settled on for him yet. Also, for Ursula's tail, it's hard to tell, but the end is split like a nekomata. Just look at Espeon's tail from pokemon. It's split like that.

Gareth here is a special case. He's been mentioned in Wars of the Heart but hasn't been introduced. The reason for this is, as it's mentioned above, is that he's deceased. He's not part of the main cast; I'd just wanted to draw him.

Oh yeah; Amy has this alt outfit too, for when she's chillin'.

[arthurianfaggot]

I think I had an attack of sorts last night. lol. lmao even

[logaenhowlett]

SOMETHING HAPPENS AND I'M HEAD OVER HEELS - L.H.

Summary: What starts off as a simple favour to watch Laura’s cat sends Logan into a spiral as you continue to make your way into his life.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff - Logan is 100% whipped, Wade

A/N: 4.4k - my longest fic yet! Worst!Logan has my entire soul, I'd give anything just for that pretty smile. Title creds to Tears For Fears. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST

The familiar burn of whiskey stings the back of his throat. Logan rests his head against the couch, second-guessing his decision to babysit Laura's cat while she's enjoying her night out. Her tireless attempts of pestering him at last working in her favour so he can finally meet his 'copy-kitten' - her words.

A quick glance at the time reveals he should probably head out now. Logan rises, groaning as his muscles protest after weeks of just slumping around the apartment. Even Al had pointed out how lazy he'd become lately. And that unsolicited observation gave him half the mind to consider finding new roommates. But who was he kidding? As much as he also barely tolerated that one incredibly maddening little prick's incessant jibber-jabber, he wasn't going to find anything for what he's currently paying.

Soon enough, he weaves his way through the crowds, swerving past the shoulders of, frankly, one too many people absorbed by their devices to step aside for his large frame. Luckily, Laura's place isn't too far and he really appreciates that detail as the sound of thunder rumbles overhead. A faint ding emerges from his pocket and he retrieves his phone, reading the screen with a slight squint.

His boots soak the welcome mat as he fumbles with the door trim, locating the key according to Laura's text - making a mental note to remind her of personal safety later. Shivering, he shrugs the wet jacket off, tossing it over the armchair. His eyes dart around the room, looking for the damn cat, and for a moment, Logan wonders whether he's being pranked.

The pitter-patter of paws against the hardwood floor has him snapping his head to the little creature in question. The cat, or Leopold Alexis Elijah Walker Thomas Gareth Mountbatten - Leo, for short - he learns begrudgingly after Wade shoved pictures upon pictures to his face one particular day, stares at him with indifference.

Understanding the need to be left alone, Logan trudges towards the kitchen, swinging the fridge open. A small post-it stuck over a box of leftovers, reads "Knew you'd be hungry", has him scoffing, mildly amused that Laura had predicted his actions.

Minutes later, he sinks onto the couch, making brief eye contact with Leo, who's nonchalantly licking his paws. He's halfway through the bowl of pasta when the cat suddenly leaps onto the cushion next to him. Logan watches curiously, he's not terribly experienced around pets, hardly spending any time with Mary Puppins herself despite living under the same roof.

"Alright, here's the deal." He murmurs, "You stay outta my way and I stay outta yours."

Leo replies with a meow to which Logan nods, satisfied by the response. He hopes to god this cat has the same temperament as Dogpool and allows him to simply coexist till Laura returns. Intrigued by the smell, Leo slowly inches forward, gently nudging his head against the bowl.

"Don't think you can eat this, bub."

Leo seems to understand the implication and meows in defiance. With a sigh, Logan gingerly flexes his hand, stroking the cat's head. The act immediately has Leo purring in content, the desire to investigate the food long forgotten. And no one's there to witness the ghost of a smile that teases his lips.

The calm attitude only lasts an hour before Logan's biting back a string of profanities, frustrated by Leo's refusal to take his medication. He's thankful for his healing factor, for otherwise, he'd be covered in a litter of scars. How the hell Laura deals with this devil-of-a-cat is beyond comprehension.

There's no use in trying again. Leo clearly wants nothing to do with him or what he's hiding in his hand. The thought of seeking help crosses his mind, perhaps one of the neighbours is especially skilled in feeding pills to literal hellspawns. Logan tunes his hearing to the apartments on the floor. Old lady already asleep to her TV - no. A family of six attempting to eat dinner in peace - no. Two people about to - fuck no. Now he really wants a word with Laura about her living situation.

Just when he's about to give up, a recognisable melody reaches his ears - one he's unwilling heard Wade jam out to in the shower. This person swaying along to music seems far more approachable than anyone else in this building, and so he steps out, knocking on the apartment across from Laura's.

The door cracks open slightly, you peek your head out giving him a questioning look, “Um… hi? Can I help you?”

“Hey, sorry to bother you. But, uh… I’m watching Laura’s - your neighbour’s cat.” Embarrassment creeps into his cheeks as he points behind him, “He’s not takin’ his meds and uh do you… can you help me? Please?”

The look of absolute defeat paired with the remnants of red scratch marks on his arms has your heart clenching for this poor man, “Of course.”

When the door fully opens, Logan’s eyes widen reflexively at the state of your undress. There’s nothing evocative about it, yet he feels as though he’s intruding on an intimate side of you. One he’s definitely not privy to.

Your sheepish smile sends a wave of something indescribable through his body. He clears his throat, turning on his heel to lead you inside. Leo flicks his head up at the sound of footsteps, purring as if he hasn’t been driving Logan insane for the past hour.

You knew Laura had rescued the little guy a while ago, having run into her in the hallway the night she brought him home. Every interaction you’ve had presents him as the sweetest kitten in the world, so watching the distinct mark of dread on this stranger’s face has you stifling a laugh.

“What?” Logan asks, feeling a little self-conscious about the whole situation.

“Nothing. It’s just - Leo’s very friendly. Or at least, I thought so… what the hell did you do to piss him off?” You chuckle, kneeling a foot away.

“Piss him off? I was just tryin’ to give him the damn pills. Had no problem with me before that.” Logan’s fingers twitch as you approach the cat, wanting to protect you from the sharp claws the demon would surely attack you with.

Yet, to his astonishment, Leo innocently crawls into your outstretched arms. And Logan swears he saw a flicker of mockery come across the cat’s eyes as he peers at him, relishing your comforting embrace.

“See? He’s a sweetheart.”

The fondness in your tone almost has him believing your words. In no time, Leo’s fully cooperating with your gentle requests, happily taking the medication as if it’s the tastiest thing in the world.

Logan learns three things that night. One, your name. Two, that you have some innate ability to charm everyone around you - human or otherwise. Three, he absolutely couldn’t wait to see you again.

Logan tries to drain out the shouting match between his two roommates, ducking calmly as Al’s miscalculated spatula throw flies in his direction. Laura giggles next to him, entertained by the whole ordeal - Wade had accidentally left his cock ring plugged in the bathroom again, nearly short-circuiting the apartment.

“Hey! Kink shaming is very frowned upon, Althea.”

“You motherfucker! I almost got electrocuted by the toaster this morning!”

Logan grumbles to himself, knowing there’ll never be a quiet, normal day in this household. He turns to Laura, “Kid, you wanna grab some food later?”

“Can’t. I’m going out.”

He nods, not giving it a second thought. But as the memory of you flashes across his mind, he stops bouncing his leg, heart beating a little faster. It had been a whopping seven days since that interaction, yet every little detail has stuck with him since. In fact, he spent many hours pacing in his room planning some way to magically run into you.

“… What about the cat?” He asks, and when she raises her eyebrow, “Who’s watchin’ him?”

She replies with a shrug, “I’ll figure it out.”

The solution to his problem falls perfectly onto his lap. Oh, how his pulse quickens at the thought. And as if to not seem suspiciously enthusiastic, he pauses before speaking, “I can do it.” 

“Why?”

“Better than this shit.”

Laura considers him for a moment then agrees casually - she knows exactly why he offered. You had bumped into her a couple of days ago, offhandedly mentioning meeting Logan that night as you recounted the details of your week. It took mere seconds to put two and two together and realise he was incredibly smitten.

Logan spends a good fifteen minutes messing with his hair. Fuck, did it always spike up like that? The one tiny mirror in his room supposedly taunting him with each look over. A low tsk breaks the flood of self-criticism as he slams the door shut behind him, roughly brushing past Wade.

"Ooh, is that cologne I smell or are you just horny to see me?"

His teasing spirit immediately drops when Logan shoots him a glare, precisely throwing Al's spatula straight at his crotch.

"God - not the home office, peanut! Jim and Pam need protection!"

The walk to Laura's seems a lot shorter this time, some sort of nervous, giddy energy surging through his chest with each step. Logan bites the insides of his cheeks, feeling childish by the stupid smile daring to grace his lips just at the sheer thought of you. He can't remember the last time someone had drawn these kind of emotions from him. A part of him wants to cower in fear of rejection and self-doubt, and other? Oh, it's got your name written all over.

As soon as he reaches the hallway, all his senses are directed to your apartment. Confused by the silence he finds instead, Logan strains his hearing harder than ever. Hm, it's barely seven-thirty, maybe you're not home yet? Disappointment twirls around his mind, he sighs before opening Laura's door, convincing himself it's probably for the better.

To his surprise, Leo behaves quite well this time around - eating his food, taking his medication, and sticking with minimal efforts to annoy him. The black and white movie he randomly chose keeps his thoughts from drifting to you for the most part, though he can't help but wonder where you are at - he checks his watch - 10:38 pm on a Thursday?

Whatever hope he held onto paints him a fool as time slips by. He couldn't blame you, you didn't owe him anything. Logan runs a hand down his face, and despite his wavering relationship with Leo, he's at least grateful for the cat's company on this rather lonely night.

"Was a dumb idea, huh?" He mumbles, gently scratching Leo's ear.

Not ten minutes later, the jingle of something hitting the floor has him sitting up, intrigued. Logan pads over to look through the peephole, his heart fluttering at the sight of you. It doesn't take a genius to note your drunken state with the way you're cursing and fumbling with the keys. His hand rests against the doorknob, a flash of hesitation creeping in. Do you even want to see him right now?

Before he can psych himself out, his instincts make the decision for him. Logan's unsure of how to announce his presence, wanting to avoid any chances of scaring you. In hindsight, that task should’ve been deemed impossible when you flinch suddenly anyway.

"Logan! Shit - did I wake you up?"

He chuckles at that and before he can even respond, you fire off another question, "Wait, what're you doing here?"

"Laura's out. I'm on babysitting duty." Leo purrs from somewhere behind him in confirmation. Logan watches as you nod slowly, the keys once again sliding from your grasp, "Here, let me help you."

The two of you reach down, fingertips barely grazing as he reacts faster than you. He realises he's much closer than he anticipated when your perfume crowds his senses. Logan buries the urge to meet your eyes deep, deep down, instead unlocking the door with a clenched jaw.

He's very appreciative of the fact that you're too out of it to observe his actions. He wanders into the kitchen to fetch some water, a laugh nearly spilling out of him as you collapse onto the couch, "Hey, easy."

"I'm not that drunk."

"I believe you." He lifts the glass to your lips, words ever so soft, "But... how about we get you to bed hm? Doesn't that sound better than this couch?" When you blink at him tiredly, Logan knows it's so over for him - every shred of denial he held within now shattered by your very hands.

"Okay... "

He maintains some distance, assuming you'd stubbornly dismiss his attempts to guide you to the bedroom. Leaning by the doorframe, he doesn't try to hide the fondness in his expression as you settle under the covers.

"Night, Logan."

He hears you murmur beneath the blanket. It's almost natural how quickly he replies as if you've had this exchange hundreds of times before, "Good night, sweetheart."

A groan leaves you as the sunlight eventually breaches the comfort of your dark room. Rubbing your eyes, you blindly reach for the bedside table, hoping to find your phone. Instead, your hand retrieves a piece of paper while knocking over a bottle of Advil that definitely wasn't there earlier.

'Not that drunk' my ass. - L

The party hat lays tilted on his head. Logan hooks his finger onto the string, momentarily stopping it from cutting into his chin. On any other occasion, he wouldn't have been caught dead wearing the stupid thing, but it was Laura's birthday and once she pulled out the dangerous puppy eyes, there was no way he could refuse without being an asshole.

He's been leaning against the wall, thumb lightly tracing the rim of the beer bottle in his hand as he blankly stares around the room. Throughout the night, Logan's eyes impulsively shift in your direction, tuning into the conversations you're having with - what feels like - everyone but him.

Mary Puppins zooms by, stepping on his boots in the process. She must've caught a whiff of whatever Al's cooking. He bends down to pick up the stuffed Wolverine chew toy she dropped along the way, mildly concerned by the amount of slobber coating it.

"Nice hat."

Logan hears you chuckle behind him. He quickly turns around, tossing the toy somewhere far, far away before you could notice. And despite wishing all night for the opportunity to talk to you, he finds himself tongue-tied now that you're actually in front of him, awaiting his response with an amused expression. Get it together, dumbass.

"This thing? Well... it made the kid happy." He says, incapable of suppressing the smile that never fails to make an appearance whenever you're around.

The way your features soften releases a storm of arrows to his poor, old heart. Whatever anxiety he felt earlier increases tenfold, Logan takes a swig of his drink only to realise it's empty. With nothing to divert his energy to, he grips the bottle tighter, hoping the integrity of the glass is enough to withstand the force of his nerves.

"Thank you, by the way."

His eyebrows raise in confusion, "For what?"

"Few weeks ago. When I got home totally wasted." As your cheeks turn a little red at the memory, Logan wants to relive that moment over and over again.

"Oh... yeah." He huffs lightly, gaining a smidge of confidence from your flustered state. It gives him just enough courage to throw in a cheeky comment, "At your service."

He's mighty pleased when you giggle, biting his lip to control the proud smile aching to take over. Logan studies you briefly, and if he didn't know any better, you almost seemed nervous too? That possibility sends his mind reeling in excitement. Perhaps you also feel something here?

The shrieking sound of a party blower has him wincing, the plastic hits his cheek as Wade sneaks up right next to him with a wide grin, "Sugar bear! Don't mind me, I overheard you tell Yukio about your date tomorrow. Now, spill. Who is this mystery man and does he have a twin by any chance? Brother or sister - daddy's not picky."

Logan's initial reaction to harshly shove the man aside dies in an instant when you laugh rather bashfully at the question. He prays to god it's another one of Wade's fucking jokes. However, that hope flies out the window as you hesitantly ramble on about this guy. Excusing himself, he leaves the apartment, ripping the party hat off in agony - not witnessing the guilt eclipsing your emotions.

Droplets of sweat linger at the ends of his hair as he places the last of Laura's cardboard boxes on the floor of her new apartment. After weeks of mulling it over, she decided to move a little further away, complaining about how rent was becoming too crazy. Logan offered to support her financially till she was good on her own, yet she strongly refused just as he expected.

Since she was no longer your neighbour, the chances of running into you dwindled over time. He saw you in passing last month when he came over to help Laura with apartment hunting. The logical part of his brain convinced him to not stick around, desperately clinging to the idea that you're not interested. But catching your expression fall as he dismissed your presence nearly made him run back to wrangle you into his arms, to whisper apologies and beg for forgiveness.

After an especially tiring day, Logan returns home, crashing onto the couch with a sort of emptiness as he stares at the ceiling. Both his roommates are muttering in the corner, afraid to call out his incredibly irritable mood of late - instead, walking on eggshells whenever he's around. It seems that Wade loses the hushed argument, settling a good arm's length away from him.

"Peanut." He drags, slowly, "Al and I are... worried about you. As much as this brooding, tough guy act is really doing wonders for my sexual wellbeing, I just can't let you Debbie-Down-Pour all over this parade."

"The fuck you want me to do?"

"You need a one-way ticket to pound town-" He chirps, and when Logan grunts angrily, Wade shrieks, shielding himself from any incoming attacks, "Don't hurt me!"

The aroma of coffee tingles his senses as he takes an exaggerated sip, ignoring the need to continue such an aimless, one-sided conversation. Across the table is one of Vanessa's acquaintances, Karen or Kira - he can't remember - mindlessly explaining why her previous dates didn't work out. Logan forces a nod here and there, humming in pretend acknowledgement while he concocts some plan to seriously bash Wade's head against the nearest wall.

In all honesty, he didn't know how the hell that bastard persuaded him to entertain this woman for the night, making a note to check his alcohol for any suspicious substances later. What he did know was that this was going as terribly as he thought. And while he might be awfully rusty in terms of dating, Logan's certainly not oblivious to basic body language cues. Deciding twenty minutes of this torture is enough, she hastily rushes out the building and that's the last of Karen he ever sees.

The grocery bags feel like cinder blocks in your hands as you walk down the street. Mentally scolding yourself for postponing this chore till the last minute, you huff in exhaustion, adjusting your grip every few seconds. A woman nearly bumps into you on her way out, you stagger backwards, watching her storm off. Startled by her rashness, you turn to glance at where she came from, gasping when you spot a familiar face.

“Logan?”

He snaps up, recognising that particular voice - your name leaves his lips softly. Mixed emotions swirl around his mind, yet, he can't help the way his heart jumps as you fill his senses, “Wha - what’re you doin' here?”

“I was just passing by... saw you through the window.” Your gaze drops to the half-finished cup of coffee opposite him, “Were you on a date?”

“Uh Wade - he...” Logan stutters for a moment, dumbfounded that you're even talking to him after his childish behaviour the last few weeks. He nods lightly as the unmistakable bullet of regret pierces his insides.

“It’s her loss anyway.”

God, he wants to apologise so badly. Your friendly attitude only serves to make him feel worse, but Logan thanks his lucky stars that you don't hate him. He definitely wouldn't have been able to handle any sign of resentment on your part - no matter how much he deserves it.

“What’s with the eggs?”

You laugh, looking down at the several cartons peeking through your bags, “I’m stress-baking.”

He's so lost in your eyes that it takes him a second to register your reply, nose scrunching in amusement, “Stress-baking?”

“Yes, it’s a perfectly valid activity.”

That draws a chuckle out of him. He raises his hands in defense, “I ain’t judgin’, doll.”

A comfortable silence takes over and Logan realises just how happy he is to see you again - how much he's missed you all this time. He opens his mouth to spill something out of pure impulse when you beat him to the punch.

“Why don’t you join me?”

It doesn't take much convincing and he's already fallen into a steady pace as you walk together - his fingers effortlessly hooking onto all the grocery bags. His chest threatens to explode when you lean towards him, moving aside for people brushing by. Logan wills his entire strength to not drape his arm across your shoulders in an effort to keep you safe.

Time becomes irrelevant when you're around. The frequency of his own laughter shocks him at first, but he's not really thrown off by the joy you bring out of him because - well, of course, you do. It's safe to say that Logan can't bake to save his life, though he doesn't mind this particular weakness as you giggle at his dreadful attempts to mix the cookie dough. Shamelessly, he watches you come closer, breaking into a tangent about proper kneading techniques - if you ask him to repeat any of it, he'd be stumbling over his words like a fool.

Eventually, he makes something that somewhat resembles your example. He dips his finger into the dough and lifts a small piece in your direction, "How's this?"

When you gently grasp his hand to lick the sweet mixture straight off, he thinks he's trapped in some wild daydream. Logan stares at you in surprise, cheeks turning into a telltale shade of red. Your hums of approval fall onto deaf ears as he remains frozen, wondering how you're so quick to move on from that bold gesture.

Every little thing you do stains his mind - from the way you dance around to soft music playing in the background, the way you focus all your attention on him whenever he speaks, even the way you warn him about the oven as if he could get burned.

His expression must've turned serious by how you suddenly pause, peering at him in concern. Bearing a rush of emotions, the words pour out of his mouth without hesitation, "I am so sorry."

"I was an idiot and I... avoided you 'cause I couldn't deal with these damn feelings-"

He stops.

He's revealed way too much. And judging by your face, that was definitely a mistake. Logan shuts his mouth, jaw hardening as he fights something heavy crawling up his throat. His eyes land on the door and all he wants is to escape from this shrinking room.

A whisper of his name fractures the glass cage he's built up around his heart. His boots seem to be cemented to the floor, unwilling to break free even as you still in front of him - a mere breath away. Your hands rest against his cheeks, slowly turning his head so he's compelled to meet your tender gaze.

Not a single sound slips out of him before your lips are on his. His heart pounds in his chest, burning at sensation. Logan leans into the kiss, hands settling on your waist, holding you as close as he can. Relief washes over him, he tilts his head slightly to deepen his movements - his breath nearly giving out when you whimper softly.

The loud ding from the oven has you pulling back with a faint chuckle. Logan smiles too, letting out a sigh as he lays his forehead against your shoulder. He presses his lips to your collarbone, whispering against your skin, "Does that mean what I think it means?"

"The cookies... or us?"

He gently pokes your side at that comment, mirroring your dazed look. Between the quiet exchanges of laughter, he knows exactly what this means - what you mean to each other.

His muscles feel looser with each stride, embracing the breeze tangling with the warmth pooling inside from your touch moments ago. Logan makes his way home with a kind of ease he hasn't felt in forever, chewing on a cookie you insisted he taste.

As he walks through the door, Wade rests his chin on his hands, “So… how did it go? I see you’re enjoying the post-bang baked goods.”

Logan rolls his eyes, not wanting his mood to be spoiled. He grumbles under his breath, your name accidentally slipping out.

"You ran into angel-reincarnate?" Wade gasps, "Oh. Finally putting that horse cock to good use." Clapping excitedly, he follows after Logan, "Wait a second, this fic is tagged fluff. There'll be no fucking on my watch, partner!"

Logan slams the door to his bedroom behind him, blocking out Wade's muffled chattering.

"She had you cosplay as Paul Hollywood all night? Goodness! The power she possesses. I must gain all her secrets."

"Fuck off."

Wade grins to himself, quickly pulling his phone out to shoot off a text.

Wade: Project-Wolvie-Gets-Pussy is a go!

Laura: We are NOT calling it that.

[piratefishmama]

Multi-award winning band Corroded Coffin daring each other to play the "number neighbour" game one night while on a break from rehearsals. Each of them texting their number neighbour a silly 'hello you're my number neighbour, send a funny pic?' text.

There's a few replies, Gareth gets a dick pic that they spend, seemingly an eternity laughing at him for.

Jeff gets a picture from a care home taken by a staff member of everyone waving accompanied by a heartfelt thank you message about how her family hadn't visited this woman in weeks, and the surprise message had made her smile. He keeps messaging her after cause fuck this womans family shes his grandma now. The band sends her flowers once a week on a recurring plan with a local florist.

Frank the Freak gets a pic of a desk full of homework and books and a quick "finals!!!!!" A quick back and forth gets that poor student enough takeout to feed their whole dorm.

And Eddie. Eddie gets Steve. Steve, who'd been asleep when he texted, so Eddie wakes up to a pic of a very sleep rumpled golden retriever curled around an extremely sleep rumpled ragdoll cat captioned "sleeby" when Steve had woken up to the text and decided his (the cat) and Robins (the dog) pets deserved their time to shine.

He politely requests more pictures, and the shenanigans begin.

[fuctacles]

<< 😺 | 😺😺😺 >>

Eddie doesn't think more about Steph until there's a knock on the door on Saturday morning. He sighs, knowing it's his duty to open since his uncle would take forever on his crutch. And because he's a good nephew and wouldn't make him do that, of course.

He doesn't bother with the peephole, his sleepy brain basically forgetting of its existence. It's only when he opens the door and finds Steph with a duffel bag on the other side, that he realizes he went to open the door in nothing but his old Iron Man pajama bottoms.

"Good morning!" Steph greets him with a bright smile that falters a bit when her gaze drops to his tattooed chest. Eddie couldn't imagine a sight of zombie and spider tattoos giving him any credit in her pretty, middle-aged eyes. She quickly looks back up to meet his gaze. "Did I wake you up?" she asks, looking apologetic. 

Eddie shakes his head, hoping it would send his hair over his shoulders, and cover him up a bit. 

"I did!" Wayne pipes up from the kitchen. He sounds way too happy about running into a cupboard on his way out of the bathroom.

"Good morning, Mr. Wayne!" she calls out, making Eddie roll his eyes.

"You can just come in, no need to yell through the whole place."

"Right, sorry," she steps inside tentatively, her hand clutching the strap of her bag. She's wearing a colorful windbreaker and her hair is tied up, showing off the soft line of her jaw and the beauty marks on her neck. She heads to the kitchen, seemingly already knowing her way around, and Eddie closes the door behind her. He quickly runs off to his bedroom (/guest room, now that he's on campus most of the time) and grabs a t-shirt to cover his nipples, tattoos, and overall unattractiveness.

"Visiting Robin for the weekend?" He catches his uncle's question when he steps back in. 

It rubs him the wrong way, not knowing who Robin is. Is he Steph's boyfriend? Maybe they're doing long-distance? He returns to the ancient coffee maker he had abandoned to open the door.

"Yeah. I haven't seen Rob since last month. Our days off finally aligned."

"Can't you stay there longer? I'm sure Eddie wouldn't mind taking care of your cats for a day or two more."

"Hey!" Eddie whips around to glare at his uncle. The coffee maker splutters behind him. "Don't just offer my services like that," he scoffs. Then, he turns to Steph. "I wouldn't, though."

She chuckles and he grins, simply happy to make her smile.

"Try dealing with them alone first, and then we'll talk. But, you really wouldn't mind? If I stayed a day longer?"

He shakes his head.

"Not at all." He still has Wayne's words fresh in his mind. That people weren't kind to her, that she doesn't have many friends to rely on. "I'm assuming Robin is someone important to you?" he half-asks, leaning against the counter all casually. 

Just the thought of Robin makes Steph glow.

"She's my best friend. We met at our first job serving ice cream."

Eddie's a bit embarrassed at the relief of knowing Robin is a girl. Still, a best friend is higher in ranks than your friendly neighbour's nephew. 

"What's it been? Twenty years?" Wayne asks. Steph nods, making him whistle. "I couldn't stand any of my coworkers for longer than a shift."

"Maybe you're bad at making friends," Eddie butts in. "I've known Gareth since high school and we're still going strong."

"You guys are band buddies, that's different," Wayne scoffs. 

"You play in a band?" Steph picks up, her eyes shining with interest that Eddie squirms under.

"Yeah, we play metal though. Probably not your stuff."

She shakes her head.

"Any music can be good when you put your heart into it. My friends listen to all kinds of weird stuff, I've heard everything from classical to experimental techno." She rolls her eyes. "I'd love to hear your music if you have anything recorded. Or you could give me a heads up if you're playing somewhere."

All Eddie can do is stare at her, dumbfounded. 

"Uh-huh."

Wayne, bless his sometimes useful soul, saves his ass by changing the subject.

"Coffee?" he asks the stunning woman at their table. She's just sitting there, in the Munson abode at their kitchen table while they're still in pajamas like it's normal. Eddie wants it to be normal. Wants to sit in her lap and listen to her laugh. 

She looks at her watch. It's white, she must be cleaning it often.

"I only have fifteen more minutes before I really have to go."

"Half a coffee then," Eddie decides for her, grabbing the mugs. She chuckles.

"Fine." She rolls her eyes.

Each of them gets their coffee, and Eddie notes Steph takes her with just a splash of milk. Before he can ask anything, to push their small morning gathering further into a friendly small talk, she reaches into her pocket to fish out her house key.

"I came over to drop the keys," she says, pushing them towards Eddie. "And if you have something to write on, I'll give you Robin's house number in case of emergencies."

"Sure, yeah." He nods, standing up immediately to look for the notepad they plan the grocery list in. In his haste, he catches Wayne's amused stare. He sends him a frown, but the man is already looking away, which only further agitates him. 

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Could you write Eddie and fem!shy!reader having sex and Eddie’s friends hear them and makes jokes about it and reader gets really embarrassed and just sad. Eddie would probably step in and tell them to stop but she would be so embarrassed 😭😭💞

Angst and protective Eddie ❤️

Request by anon ❤️

❤️

All they Jeff planned to do was drop off these figures and then he and Gareth were going to Family Video to rent a movie but judging by Gareth's face something else had held his attention.

"Dude, do you hear that...is that?" The moans that Gareth heard before grow louder and it's unmistakably you and Eddie.

It's also quite clear that the two of you are having sex because the moans grow louder and more frequent.

"We shouldn't be listening to this dude" Jeff pulls Gareth away and the two of them drop the figures off at the door.

It's only when they head back to Jeff's car that they break into laughter.

"Looks like someone's enjoying himself tonight, maybe that means he will go easy on us tomorrow?" Gareth suggests and Jeff smirks then voices something he's also been thinking.

"Who cares dude. This is prime wind up material. Eddie is gonna flip" they drive off still laughing about what is to come tomorrow.

❤️

From the moment you walked into Hellfire something was off. Gareth and Jeff were sniggering about something and there was a small part of you that worried they were laughing at you.

That was ridiculous though right? They were Eddie's friends and they wouldn't do that. Eddie doesn't appear to notice this as he's setting up for the session, you slip in beside him and cuddle into him.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead and then focuses on his task. Just being near him soothes you and chases away the worries you have about his friends- well until they start laughing again and that same horrible feeling comes back.

Eddie's head snaps up and he glares at them, "What's so funny?" Gareth shrugs.

"Oh nothing, it's just we heard some funny noises coming from your trailer last night. We were dropping off the figures we painted and it sounded pretty wild" Oh shit. Oh no. You wince in humiliation.

You could feel the tears gather In your eyes as some of the guys made whooping noises and waggled their eyebrows. Well all except Dustin, Mike and Lucas who looked grossed out.

Dustin scowls at the older members, "Yeah, real mature dudes" See that right there is why he's your favourite.

"Must have been some night huh? Eddie's been smiling like the Cheshire Cat since then" Grant jokes and Gareth nods.

"Heard all the noises last night and it was definitely good right eds?" He pales at the furious look on Eddie's face and the saddened look on yours and the tears. Now that sobers Gareth up. Ah fuck.

Eddie glares at them all and kisses your forehead. "What the fuck. How dare you make my girl feel embarrassed? You think your stupid jokes are funny?" He hisses and the rest of them stop sniggering.

"It's just a joke dude. We don't mean anything by it" Jeff soothes him but Eddie doesn't listen to this and stands his ground.

"It's making my girl uncomfortable so I have a problem with it. Shut the fuck up. Maybe if you two had partners then you wouldn't act like such buttheads all the time" You tug Eddie's hand and he peers down at you, his gaze full of love and tenderness.

"It's okay Eddie" You don't want him to fall out with his friends over this, Eddie shakes his head and holds you close to him. "It's not okay sweetheart, this is your safe space too and I won't have you the butt of some dumb joke"

Gareth and Jeff murmur apologies which you accept but Eddie is still pissed and maybe that's why he kills off their characters a half an hour into the session.

The message was clear. Never insult or upset his princess.

[starlight299]

Eddie is like a Disney princess when it comes to animals. Why? Because I said so. Also the autism, I don’t know it just works like that.

In kindergarten he tried to make friends by showing people a cool spider he found. He ended up just scaring the crap out of three separate kids because apparently other kids don’t like spiders? It’s their problem not his. He also named every spider that made a web on his ceiling growing up.

In third grade, when he actually had a friend, the two of them were playing by a stream in the woods and his friend found a frog and was trying to pick it up but it kept hopping away from him. When he finally caught it he tried to show Eddie but opened his hands too much and it hoped back to the ground. Eddie just crouched down and scooped it back up on the first try. He opened his hands just enough to see the little guy as his friend complained. Then, deciding it was about time for the frog to be freed he lifted his top hand, but the frog just continued to sit there. His friend was a little annoyed and offended. Eddie crouched down and lowered his hand to the ground and the frog finally hopped away to continue its life.

When Eddie moved in with Wayne his first order of business is to befriend all the raccoons around the trailer park. He fed them regularly and after a while one of them trusted him enough to let him pet it. (Rabies be damned) He named all three of them, Rosie, Fredrick, and Bobby. Bobby was the one that always let Eddie pet him.

Eddie also fed the local crows and they delivered him trinkets every once in a while. He has a box of them under his bed. He could never give up any of them, he’d cry. Jeff tried to tell him it was just garbage and Eddie kicked him out and refused to speak to him for a week until Jeff apologized. The crows went thought too much trouble to give it to him for him to disrespect them like that.

The first time Eddie went over to Gareth’s house Gareth insisted that his cat didn’t like new people and would probably hide the whole time Eddie was over. The cat walked over and sniffed him after half an hour, Eddie pet him and Gareth almost cried.

When Eddie found a dead mouse in his yard he gave it a funeral, with a speech and everything, he made Waybe sit outside with him while he buried the mouse in their yard and wrote ‘Harold’ on a rock with a sharpie. He still lays dandelions by the grave every spring.

[punkrockmlchael]

Secret Admirer

Masterlist | Gareth Emerson Masterlist | Corroded Coffin Masterlist

Gareth Emerson x Fem Cheerleader!Reader

Modern AU ; Secret Admirer to Lovers

Warnings: This is literally just fluff because I just.. needed this, No like literally buckle up for the fluffiest fluff, big bad and scary Gareth is actually a huge and sweet teddy bear when you get to know him, Secret Admirer!Gareth, Cheerleader!Reader, Best Friend!Chrissy, Kind of mean girl cheerleader friends, Gareth has a little sister, Gareth has a cat

Synopsis: Random love letters continue to find their way into your locker at school, it felt like each and every day there was a new one. As time goes on your friends are constantly guessing who they think your "Secret Admirer" actually is. But, they couldn't have been more wrong. This has been giving me trouble because I wanted it to be the best it could be and I continued to come back to it. It has nothing to do with Valentine's Day but I made it a goal to finish it before then and this, uh, this turned out pretty long... So, to anyone that was waiting I'm sorry for the delay but I hope you enjoy how this turned out! Thanks for reading! + once again thank you to the loves of my life @keeryhours + @the-witty-pen-name

Word Count: 7k

Notes. 

Love notes? 

No, just notes… right? 

That’s how it all started… with some small and subtle handwritten notes. Sweet little anonymous notes that always seemed to brighten your day and compliment you when you needed them the most. They came so often you were starting to wonder how you never noticed them being placed inside your locker… they must’ve been stuffed through the gaps but whoever was placing them definitely had to be quick and cunning if you never noticed them before, right?

It felt like every single day when you opened your locker a new handwritten note would fall to the ground and land at your feet. Each and every note seemed to have come from the same person—the consistent handwriting didn’t hide that, it actually only accentuated the fact that all these notes were from one person. But, alas, you never were able to find out who was sending them…

The scribbly and slightly slanted handwriting was a stark contrast to the nice and neat little square the paper was always folded into. It was funny, really, there was so much detail put into the folding of the paper but the handwriting was borderline unreadable unless you squinted and tilted your head to just the right angle. These notes were also never addressed with any name, any initials, anything; never even a clue as to who this person was, they never seemed to slip up and give away their identity. Which left you constantly playing the guessing game of who this person was and why they chose you to supply letters to. 

Each time a new note fell to the ground you’d look around, trying to spot if there was anyone lurking in the shadows and watching you. But, you never found anyone, at least, you never seemed to find someone who was actively watching you and your moves… if they were watching you they were doing it so discreetly that you never once thought anything of it. They were good at concealing their identity, really. 

Every little love note from your secret admirer, as Chrissy had called it, made its way into your folder. It brought a smile to your face every time the folder was opened, but you still wished you knew who exactly was writing the letters that put a huge smile on your face.

And more importantly… did they know they were putting these smiles on your face? Or, was all of this just a trick someone was playing on you? There’s no way you could have a secret admirer… right?

You sighed, yawning softly as you put the combination into your locker on autopilot. You had a late night; a pep rally was directly after school and the championship basketball game followed soon after. So, that meant that you cheered your little butt off for the entire school during said pep rally and for the entire town that had decided to come out to the championship game. All the while the band played in the background to help keep everyone interacted with obnoxious sounds of basketball coming from the court. (You know, the dribbling, the squeaks of sneakers, the shouts from players and the crowd; yeah, all of that.) Fortunately, Hawkins had won the championship game; the first big win in years. Unfortunately, that meant that you were stuck being dragged to a party after the game with your best friends and fellow cheerleaders, Chrissy and Kate. Apparently despite being a school night, the win still needed to be celebrated. But, really, what was the point? The game was already done, the win already secured by Jason Carver as he made the game winning shot at the buzzer. 

God, what more was there to celebrate? You wanted to celebrate your bed. But, no. Instead you were dragged out of the gym and to the biggest party you’d ever been to. Chrissy and Kate assured you that you’d be back home by 9 o’clock at night, but once 11 o’clock hit your body was finally resting in your bed comfortably, only to lie awake for ages. The clock showing 1:25 in the morning was the last thing you remembered before finally falling asleep.

You felt like you were running on empty as you yawned yet again, desperately craving an overly sweet iced coffee flavored with caramel syrup with extra whipped cream on top and maybe some extra caramel drizzle on top of that light and fluffy whipped cream. Yeah… that sounded like heaven right now. Caffeine buzz… sugar buzz… honestly, either sounded like they would help at this point in time. After struggling with your locker combination a couple of times, you finally succeeded and opened your locker to grab your English textbook. As you flung the door open, a small folded piece of paper landed at your feet. 

You raised an eyebrow and looked down at the paper by your feet before looking around the hall to see if there was anyone watching you. When you didn’t see anyone actively paying attention to you, you shrugged, bending down to reach for the paper. 

You held the small, perfectly folded paper in your hands before you opened it carefully, reading the contents to yourself.

You looked really pretty at the school pep rally yesterday.

You blushed to yourself, folding the paper back up quickly. You stuffed it in your pocket and grabbed your English textbook, closing your locker. You turned when you heard your name, looking at Kate as she walked towards you with a big grin on her face. Clearly, she was not affected by the late night like you were. She was looking as peppy and chipper as ever… damn, how did she do it? Did she already down that sugary and caffeine filled coffee of your dreams without you?

“Hey, girl,” Kate smiled, bumping your shoulder with her own gently. “How’d you sleep?” She giggled, taking in your tired and disheveled looking appearance. “I texted you, you didn’t respond. I had thought maybe you didn’t wake up in time for school this morning!” 

Looking at Kate, you rolled your eyes as a small scoff left your mouth. “I saw your text, I just didn’t have the brain power to reply. And as for sleeping? I slept like hell, thanks,” you muttered, making the short walk to your English class. Kate walked alongside you, smiling at you.

“Sorry, girl, I thought maybe you could survive off of a few hours of sleep.” She teased, walking into the classroom with you. You sighed, sinking into your seat.

“I can’t,” you replied softly, grabbing your folder out of your backpack. You grabbed the tiny piece of paper from your pants pocket and slid it in the folder discreetly for safe keeping. “And, I think you know that I can’t. I’m going to be honest, I think the only solution at this point is an iced coffee with too much caramel and too much whipped cream.” 

“Damn. Well, you better wake up quick,” she smirked, watching you rest your head in your hands. “Don’t think you want detention with the freaks today.” She added, motioning towards the boys of the Hellfire club. Eddie and Jeff stood around Gareth’s desk, talking far too loud for only being 7 o’clock in the morning. They continued to laugh and talk amongst each other, something about camping? No, a campaign? What the hell was a campaign? You really weren’t sure what they were going on about this early in the morning… it seemed like a foreign language to you and the other students that heard their conversation.

“Kate, don’t call them that,” you yawned again, watching the three boys continue to laugh until the bell rang. “They’re not freaks,” you mumbled, smiling softly when you saw Gareth look at you and smile.

“They are totally freaks, though.” Kate muttered back, looking at the board in the front of the room. 

But you didn’t hear her. You just yawned again, giving Gareth one last smile before looking at the board as well. You were clinging to the hope that you could at least make it to lunch in order to get a nap in… who needed to eat anyways?

You sat in study hall, reading The Great Gatsby to yourself as others around you mumbled and talked amongst themselves about various topics. No one else was doing any homework, and you didn’t really blame them. No one ever actually did homework in study hall… it was the class that students took to tell their parents they would be getting ahead of their schoolwork, but, really, it was just a free for all social hour. Even the teacher that watched study hall didn’t really care, she used this free time to pretend she was grading papers for her class but she was really just swiping through her latest dating app matches trying to find Mr. Right on her phone under the desk. And, it was kind of funny watching her sit and mumble to herself when she didn’t get a match she wanted but, also, this was Hawkins… not many suitors for a teacher at the local high school in her mid 30s. 

Normally you’d be sitting with Chrissy giggling with each other while watching the teacher as she aggressively swiped on her phone, mumbling to herself more. Then you’d move on to giggling about your latest cheer practice, then you’d be discussing the latest shade of nail polish you bought, then you’d go back to giggling about the latest funny video you saw online before finally discussing the newest skirt you had picked up at the mall. But, not today. Today you were just unlucky as Chrissy was sick which left you all alone in study hall. So, you might as well work on some homework… right?

While reading, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pouting to yourself when it moved over your ear again. You ran your fingers through your locks, sighing when you realized how short your hair actually was now. It framed your face perfectly—like you had wanted—but now it was too short to pull back into a ponytail, to place in a bun and apparently too short to even push back behind your ears to get it out of your face. 

Damn haircut.

You continued to attempt to push the strands of hair behind your ears before sighing to yourself, setting the book down on the table. You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked out the window, watching the wind blow the dry and brittle leaves around the field gently.

The sounds of the people talking around you started to become muffled as you continued to look out the window, watching the leaves dance through the air without a care in the world. There was a big gust of wind, the leaves flying through the wind freely, tauntingly almost, as you sat and watched. Your copy of The Great Gatsby sat long forgotten in front of you as your eyes followed the leaves outside the window.

You glanced over to the table in front of the window, watching as the Hellfire boys sat around in a circle having a very intense discussion. How do these boys always seem to be so in the zone and have the most intense conversations no matter the time of day? It kind of made you envious of the fact that they all enjoyed each other’s company and didn’t care what others around them thought—literally, they were so loud. They were polar opposites of so many others; most people in high school were so caught up in wanting to be popular and needing to fall into a specific category that they would do anything for it. But not these boys; no, these boys were different.

You watched as the boys continued to joke around with each other before Gareth stood up. He nodded at the others and walked past your table, smiling at you a little as he walked towards the door. You smiled at him before you glanced back at your book, picking it up again to attempt to dive back into the story you needed to desperately finish for English class. 

After a few minutes you were finally able to get back into your book. You became so engrossed in the story telling of Nick Carraway that you didn’t notice Gareth slip back into the room and back into his seat at the table with his Hellfire friends. They all went back to talking and joking with each other during the remainder of study hall. 

The annoying ring of the bell and the sound of your classmates packing their belongings up in a hurry was what finally pulled you out of your book. You sighed, marking the page you were on before you stuffed the book in your backpack and stood up, making your way out the door and down the hall to your locker. 

You put your combination in gracefully, opening the door to grab the correct books for your homework. A small piece of paper fell to your feet, landing on top of your converse shoes. You picked it up and unfolded it, reading the note to yourself.

You got a haircut; I like it. It looks good on you.

You blushed softly, reading the words on the paper before you glanced around you. There weren't many people roaming the hall at this time; it seemed like everyone was already out the door or on their way to practices and clubs. The only person walking towards you was your locker neighbor—Gareth. He smiled at you softly before he stopped next to you, putting the combination in his locker. You smiled back, holding the paper to your chest before you attempted to tuck the short strands of hair behind your ear again.

You grabbed your folder from your locker, placing the note inside carefully before shutting the door quietly. You glanced at Gareth, watching as he went through his less than tidy locker. Papers were scattered about the inside, crumpled and ripped and continuing to move with each movement he made.

“Shit,” he mumbled to himself, eyes stuck in his locker. He glanced at you and smiled a little. “Hey, uh, what’re the odds you know the homework we’re supposed to do for English tonight?” 

You smiled, looking at him with a slight nod. “Yeah, uh, here,” you replied, grabbing your planner from your bag. You turned it to the correct day before you handed it to him. Gareth smiled as he took his cellphone out of his pocket, snapping a picture of the homework you had written down. 

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver… I swear I had it written down but can’t find it.” He stopped for a second, looking up at you. “Did you get a haircut?” He asked softly, his smile growing more. 

You nodded, running your fingers through your now short hair. “Uh, yeah. I’m not a huge fan of it…”

“Well, I think it looks good on you,” Gareth replied, closing his locker. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, looking at you. You smiled, a pink tint covering your cheeks.

“Yeah… see you tomorrow, Gareth…” Gareth nodded at your response, smiling again as he turned away and walked towards the theater room, catching up with his friends Jeff and Eddie. You stood there for a second, watching him leave and begin laughing again with his friends. 

“Hey?” Kate called your name, walking towards you. “You okay? What are you looking at?” She asked, stopping next to you. You hummed, turning towards her.

“Huh? Oh, uh, nothing. Sorry, I was kind of zoning out…” 

“Right, well, ready for practice?” She asked, looking at you.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.” You replied, turning to walk towards the locker room. 

“What were you looking at?” Kate asked, walking alongside you. You shrugged, not wanting to admit to her that you were watching one of the freaks as she called him.

“Oh, nothing. I thought I heard something… you know?”

Kate raised an eyebrow, not believing you. “Yeah, sure.”

“Stupid fucking glasses,” you muttered to yourself, squinting as you looked at the board in your World History class. You tried to move a bit closer, leaning over your desk as you scribbled some notes sloppily in your notebook. When you realized that even moving closer to the board wasn’t helping, you sighed to yourself. You sat back in your seat as your teacher continued to speak to the entire class, making more and more notes on the white board about the latest World History Lesson.

You took your glasses off and squinted again, trying to keep up with the notes that were being written on the board. A small groan escaped your lips as you gave up on reading the board, instead taking notes based on what your teacher was speaking aloud. 

Gareth glanced up at you as he took his own notes, noticing how you seemed to be struggling with seeing the board. He raised an eyebrow as you put your new glasses back on, eyes directly on your notebook now as you wrote down everything you heard. You attempted to keep up with the notes, struggling slightly as your pen moved across the paper in hasty scribbles, it would be a miracle if you could even reread these notes later. 

Once the bell rang you stood up and moved towards the front of the room, looking at the board once again only this time from a closer view. You quickly wrote down any of the notes you had missed, comparing your notebook to the board a few times before gathering your belongings. You snapped a quick picture of the notes on the board with your phone to compare later before you walked to your locker, smiling at Gareth slightly as he stood at his own locker. 

He smiled at you, nodding at you slightly. “Hey,” he said softly, grabbing his textbook for his next class. “New glasses?” He asked, motioning to his own face.

“Hey, uh, yeah… I, uh, I got them yesterday after school,” you replied, putting the combination into your locker. 

“Nice, well, they look good on you.” Gareth replied, closing his locker. “I really like the black frames on you, they really make your eyes pop.” 

“Thanks,” you smiled, blushing softly. You opened your locker and watched a folded piece of paper fall to your feet. You bent down to grab it, opening it slightly to read the contents to yourself. Your eyes skimmed over the note, squinting slightly as you took in the words that were written on the paper.

You got new glasses, huh? The black frames look totally badass on you. 

You blushed a bit, reading over the note again. Someone else had actually noticed your new glasses and thought they looked good? And, they even went out of their way to compliment you on your new glasses, putting this note in your locker for you to find? You smiled a little, thinking to yourself. You thought these new glasses were terrible… they were just too big and bulky. Not to mention, they kind of gave you a bit of a headache, and they made it difficult to see the board in class right now. You pushed your glasses up higher on the bridge of your nose, examining the note in greater detail. 

God, whose handwriting was that? Who did you know that could write in such a sloppy, slanted manner? And, why—no, how—was the paper always folded up so perfectly?

You folded the note back up and stuffed it into your pocket. Glancing up, you noticed Gareth was gone and was probably off to his next class by now.

“Hey!” You jumped at the sound of Chrissy walking towards you, giggling to herself. “Woah, you good girl?” She asked, looking at you with a smile. 

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, just… have a headache,” you mumbled, grabbing your notebook from your locker before shutting it quickly.

“Yeah, I’ve heard new glasses can do that to you.” She said softly with a small frown. “But, at least you can see, right?” 

“Something like that,” you replied, nodding as you looked at her. “Ready for class?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Chrissy nodded, walking with you towards your next class. Your right hand made its way into your pocket, playing with the folded note gently. 

God, who was leaving these notes?

“Oh my god, this is so weird,” you smiled from your seat at the cheerleader lunch table. You were sitting next to Chrissy and across from Kate, a wide smile on your face as you looked at both of them.

“What?” Kate asked, smiling at you.

“Yeah, what’re you going on about, girlie?” Chrissy smiled, taking a bite of her salad.

“This is like my first lunch without braces in god knows how long.” You smiled brightly, showing off your perfectly straight and shiny teeth. “There’s so many foods I can eat now like… I can have gum again, I can have potato chips, I can have popcorn. My god, I am so excited to eat all the food I haven’t been able to lately.” 

“How many selfies have you taken so far?” Chrissy giggled, looking at you with a smile. “I have to think you’ve at least taken a couple of selfies already to show off your brand new smile.”

You giggled, taking a bite of one of your baby carrots. “Maybe just a few… you know, just had to take some pictures and test out some new angles,” you smiled more, running your tongue over your teeth. It felt weird. It was smooth, and there were no more braces.

“I have to admit, you look good without the braces,” Kate smiled, looking at you. “Don’t get me wrong, you were always beautiful but you look so happy without them on.”

“Yeah, your smile is so contagious.” Chrissy smiled as well, agreeing with Kate. You smiled at them both, continuing to munch on your baby carrots with ranch.

“You’re both going to make me blush,” you giggled. You finished your lunch while joking with your friends before the bell rang. 

“Shit, I forgot I have a math test,” Kate said, standing up.

“Damn, that means I have a math test,” Chrissy groaned, standing up as well. They both looked at you and smiled, “see you after school, girl.” 

“Yep! See you at cheer practice,” you smiled, rising from your seat. You grabbed your items and made your way to your locker. You put your combination in and opened the door, watching yet again as a small piece of folded paper fell to your feet. This one was a little different, your name was on the outside of the paper with a small smiley face drawn next to it.

You bent down and picked up the paper, reading your name on the outside before you opened it, looking at the contents within.

No more braces, huh? God, your smile is breathtaking. 

You blushed a bright red, unable to hide the wide smile that was forming on your face. Who is the one person that keeps noticing these small little changes about you? And, follow up question, why do they feel the need to tell you through these notes? Are they seeing the smile that forms on your face after you read the notes? Are they doing it as a joke?

Reading over the note again, you smiled as you looked into your locker, reaching for your textbook. You grabbed your folder as well, placing the note inside before you closed the locker door and made your way towards your next class wearing the same smile you had when you first read the note—a huge, bright and contagious smile, as Chrissy called it. 

“Have you figured out who your secret admirer is yet?” Kate, asked as you walked towards your lockers together after cheer practice was finally over. The halls were dim and empty, the three of you the only ones around for the time being. 

“It’s Steve! No, it’s Andy! Wait, maybe it’s Tommy,” Chrissy squealed, naming off all of the popular boys in your grade.

“Chrissy, come on, you’re just throwing names out left and right at this point,” Kate commented, shaking her head. You shrugged, walking towards your locker.

“I think you are both too invested in this,” you said, stopping at your locker. “I mean, they’re just little letters and I don’t even know who they’re from!” You said, putting your locker combination in. “It’s not a big deal.”

“They’re love letters,” Kate corrected, looking at you. “That is, like, so totally a big deal!”

“Yeah! This could be your future boyfriend! Your future husband, the father of your children,” Chrissy gushed, watching as you opened your locker.

“You two are just so—” you started, cutting yourself off as you looked into your locker. You raised your eyebrow, looking at the girls before redirecting your attention back to the locker. 

“We’re so what?” Chrissy asked, giggling.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Kate asked, moving to get a better look in your locker.

You picked up the single red rose that was sitting in your locker, holding it up. You lifted it to your nose, sniffing it gently before you noticed the piece of paper attached to it. You quickly unfolded it, reading the contents as a smile appeared on your face.

You’re the most beautiful girl in the world ♡

You looked up at Kate and Chrissy, smiles forming on their faces as well. “Still think it’s not a big deal?” Kate asked, taking a peek at the love note. “Someone is like, in love with you!”

“Oh, my god,” Chrissy squealed again, jumping up and down. “This is so perfect, oh my god, what if he’s planning on asking you to Prom?”

“Chrissy, I still don’t even know who he is,” you reminded her, looking down the hall to see if you could find anyone. Then again, it was after school and clubs… not too many people were still here willingly. No, just a few teachers and the janitors tended to linger around the building at this time.

“Come on, it has to be Steve, he’s always watching you while we’re cheering!” Chrissy smiled, looking at you. 

“Oh, my god, picture it,” Kate smiled, joining in on Chrissy’s excitement. “Prom; Chrissy and Jason, me and Billy, and you and Steve!”

“Isn’t he with Nancy?” You asked, sniffing the rose again. Kate shook her head rapidly. 

“No! They broke up!”

“Yeah, she’s with Jonathan now,” Chrissy added, looking at you. “Oh, god, I hope it’s Steve!” 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at your two friends and their speculations. You grabbed your things and smiled at them, closing your locker. “You guys are crazy,” you said, looking at them. “But, I have to go. I have to go work on a World History project with my partner.”

“Partner?” Chrissy asked, gasping slightly. “Wait, is it Steve?” 

“Or Andy? Or Tommy?” Kate asked, giggling with Chrissy. You shook your head and looked at them.

“No, it’s Gareth.” 

“The freak?” Chrissy asked. You shook your head slightly and looked at her.

“Don’t call him that, he’s actually pretty nice… I think,” you replied, shrugging slightly.

“Oh, god, don’t tell me you have a crush on one of the freaks,” Kate said softly, rolling her eyes. 

“Look, I have to go. I’m already late, I texted him and told him I’d be there around five and it’s almost five thirty!” You panicked, grabbing your phone to send Gareth a text. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bye!” You added, running towards the door as you typed out a text to Gareth. 

You made it to your car and started the short drive to Gareth’s house from the high school. He had sent you a text back that you read once you pulled up to his house, a text back that just said ‘it’s fine, no biggie,’ but to you it felt like a biggie, in fact, it felt like a big biggie. You hated being late and even more, you hated blowing people off. You grabbed your bag and hopped out of the car, walking towards the front door; taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door, waiting for someone to answer. 

After a minute or so a cute little girl opened the door. She was probably around seven or so and looked just like Gareth—she had blue eyes, fluffy hair with little curls thrown about and an adorable smile with a tooth missing in the front. She held a small baby blue teddy bear under her arm and smiled up at you.

“Hi! I’m Gracie,” she beamed, looking at you.

“Hi, Gracie,” you smiled at her. “Is Gareth home?”

She nodded and giggled, turning around. “Gare! Your girlfriend is here!” She turned back to you and smiled, “you’re pretty.”

You blushed softly as she called you her brother’s girlfriend, smiling a little. “Why, thank you, Gracie.” After a minute Gareth came walking to the front door, looking at Gracie.

“Why are you yelling at me?” He asked, noticing you at the door. He smiled at you slightly before looking back at Gracie.

“I said your girlfriend is here,” Gracie said, pointing to you. “She’s pretty, Gare, are you going to kiss her?” 

You stifled a laugh, biting your lip as you looked at her with a small smile. Gareth turned a bright shade of red before he shook his head, pointing towards the living room. “Okay, that’s enough. Don’t you have a tea party to get back to?” Gracie gasped and nodded, looking at Gareth.

“You’re right! Mr. Fluffy is waiting for me!” And with that Gracie was running back to her tea party, forgetting you were even at the door. Gareth shook his head and looked up at you, still a bit pink as he stepped to the side and motioned for you to come in.

“Hey, uh, sorry about… her,” he said softly, closing the door behind you as you walked in. “She’s got… quite the imagination,” Gareth trailed off, looking into the living room as he watched his sister go back to her tea party with her stuffed animals. “We can go to my room,” he said, directing his attention back to you with a small smile.

“That sounds good,” you nodded, smiling as you followed him into the house and up the stairs. Along the way, you took note of all the decorations in the house. There were so many family pictures on the walls along with various other pictures. You lingered on one slightly, smiling at what appeared to be Gareth when he was younger with his parents. He was standing in front of their house in between his mom and dad with a toothless grin on his face, his hair was a mess, a fluffy mop on his head. You smiled softly, eyes flickering from the picture back to the boy in front of you. 

He stopped in front of a door that had a Metallica poster on the back and opened it, motioning for you to go first. You smiled at him, stepping into his room as you looked around. There were metal posters everywhere as well as pictures of him and his friends hanging on the wall. His dresser had a ton of little dragon figurines on it with a book that said Dungeons and Dragons Player’s Handbook. 

“Sorry, it’s kind of messy,” Gareth apologized, moving some of his clothes off of his bed. “I’m actually so terrible at putting my clothes away… very toxic trait of mine,” he mumbled, walking towards his closet. You giggled softly, watching him walk past you.

“Oh, mine too, it’s okay,” you smiled, watching him throw the clothes in his closet.

“You can take a seat on my bed, get comfy or whatever, we might be here for a bit.” He said, looking back at you. You glanced at his bed, taking note of the dark colored bedspread and blankets. You walked towards it, sitting gently. You grabbed your textbook and notebook from your bag, placing them on the bed in front of you as you grabbed a pen. You placed your bag down beside you and jumped when you felt the bed move, looking back to see a black cat staring at you curiously.

“Oh, hi,” you said softly, reaching out to pet the cat gently. Gareth closed his closet door and grabbed his notebook and textbook as well, looking back at his bed with a smile.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I probably should have warned you about him. You’re not like allergic or anything are you?” He asked, sitting next to you on his bed. You shook your head, scratching the cat behind his ears as he started purring, nuzzling against your leg. “Well, that’s Ozzy.” He smiled, “he’s kind of an attention whore.”

“Well, hi Ozzy,” you smiled, scratching his head more. “You are so cute, Gareth didn’t tell me he had such a cute little kitty friend at home.” Gareth smiled a little, watching you interact with Ozzy.

“I kind of forgot you’ve never been to my house, otherwise I would have warned you about Gracie too.” He said, opening his notebook to his most recent notes.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a sister either,” you nodded, looking at him with a small smile. “She’s cute, though. She looks just like you.”

“Yeah, I get that alot.” Gareth replied, setting his notebook down as he tapped his thighs for Ozzy. Ozzy meowed and walked towards him, jumping into his lap before he curled up in a ball, purring more. “She is definitely the cuter sibling.”

You giggled to yourself, looking at your notebook in front of you. You smiled as you glanced at his notebook and stopped in your tracks when you saw his notes on the page. More specifically, when you saw his handwriting on the notebook page. That consistent scribbly, slanted handwriting was staring at you, teasing you; taunting you and calling out to you. 

Why? Because you know you’ve seen it before.

In fact, you’ve seen that handwriting so often recently. And it was currently sitting in your folder on numerous pieces of paper as well as sitting in your car with a bright red rose. 

You glanced up at him, watching as he continued to pet Ozzy on his lap.

Holy shit.

Gareth Emerson was your secret admirer. 

You walked through the gym in your red ball gown, weaving through the groups of people. While you had come to this dance with Chrissy and Kate, they were off now dancing with their boyfriends. Which was fine, it just meant that you were now alone for the time being. 

You made your way towards the punch table, grabbing yourself a cup before you took in your surroundings. You glanced around the room, sipping on the punch. Your eyes landed on the one person you were looking for–Gareth Emerson. He was sitting alone at a table in the corner, messing with his tie. 

It had been about a month since you had realized that Gareth was the one supplying the letters in your locker. And, since that day, his letters haven't stopped… in fact, they have actually increased to coming daily. Sometimes even twice a day. You wondered if he knew that you knew who he was… if he did know that you knew, he was doing an amazing job at hiding it. If he didn’t know then… well, he was just crazy.

Because you had been wanting to say something to him ever since the eventful day when you first recognized his handwriting and found out who he was. You just never found the right time. At least, until tonight—prom night. For some reason, tonight seemed like the perfect time to tell him, to show him, to confess your mutual feelings that had been growing towards him since you started spending time with him one on one. 

It was prom after all, wasn’t tonight about love and relationships and all that other cheesy shit?

You smiled to yourself and grabbed another cup of punch carefully. You made your way towards the table Gareth was sitting at, taking a seat next to him. He looked up at you and smiled, “hey, you, uh, you look great,” Gareth said, taking in your appearance. He smiled softly as he watched the red lace fabric hug your upper body and curves before it flowed into a poofy ball gown skirt at your hips. Damn, you looked too good in that, and red was always his favorite color. Curse you for picking up on that and for wearing it specifically for him.

“Thanks,” you smiled, setting both cups of punch down on the table. “You clean up pretty well too, you know.” You giggled, looking at him. “I have to admit, I’m pretty surprised you’re here. School dances don’t seem like your kind of thing. But, I brought you some punch.” 

Gareth blushed softly, shrugging as his fingers continued to play with the end of his red tie. “Thanks. And, I had to wear this suit somewhere, you know?” He replied, looking up at you. “Are you… uh, all alone tonight?” He asked, his right hand moving towards the cup of punch you placed in front of him. 

“Kind of,” you responded, looking at him with a smile. “I came with Kate and Chrissy but they’re with Jason and Billy.” You motioned towards your friends who were dancing with their boyfriends. You hung your purse on the edge of your chair before resting your arms on the table. You looked at Gareth with a smile on your face, “what about you?”

Gareth smiled, looking at you. “What about me?” He asked, taking a drink of the overly sweet punch you had brought him.

“I mean,” you smiled, “where are your friends? Or are you also all alone tonight?”

“Ah,” he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Kind of? Eddie is flirting with girls, trying to get someone to dance with him and, honestly, I’m not too sure where Jeff and Grant ended up…”

“And you’re not asking any girls to dance?” You asked, looking at Gareth. He looked up at you and shook his head.

“Oh, no, I don’t think any girl would want to dance with me anyways…”

“That’s not true,” you replied, “I bet there are plenty of girls that would like to dance with you.”

“Yeah, right,” Gareth shook his head. “Like who?”

You shrugged, smiling at him. “Good question.” You reached for your purse, pulling out a small piece of folded paper. You handed it to him and giggled softly.

He looked at you and raised an eyebrow, looking down at the folded piece of paper in his hand. He unfolded it carefully, looking at the contents carefully. 

Will you dance with me, my secret admirer? ♡

Gareth read the paper and looked up at you, turning a bright red. “How, uh… how did you know it was… me?” He asked softly, folding the paper back up. He tucked it into his jacket pocket gently, eyes on you again as he looked you up and down subtly. 

“Well, your handwriting during our History project kind of gave it away for me,” you giggled. “So, will you dance with me?” You asked, standing up. You placed your hand out for Gareth to grab, smiling when he stood up and placed his hand in yours.

“Of course I’ll dance with you,” he said softly, pulling you towards the dance floor just in time for a slow song. “Though, I must admit, I am terrible at dancing.” 

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, wrapping your arms around his neck gently. Gareth smiled softly, placing his hands on your hips gently. 

“You’re not like… I don’t know… weirded out by me placing those notes and stuff in your locker, are you?” He asked softly, pulling you closer to his body gently.

“No, not really… should I be?” You asked, smiling up at him. “If we’re being honest with each other, I have always had a tiny bit of a crush on you and I was secretly hoping you were the one planting all the letters for me…” 

“Really?” Gareth asked softly, swaying with you to the music. “Well, if we’re being honest with each other… the truth is I’ve had a crush on you for quite a while, and, I guess I was just… nervous that you wouldn't like a freak like me,” Gareth admitted softly, leaning closer to you.

“What do you mean?” You asked, moving your face closer to his.

“Well, you’re a cheerleader, I’m a freak… we just, don’t really go together, you know?” 

“Why are you calling yourself a freak?” You frowned. 

“Because, well, that’s kind of what I am? You’re popular and I’m just, well, a freak.”

“No,” you argued, shaking your head. “You’re really cool and really sweet and to be honest… being popular doesn’t mean anything. I like you for you, and truth is; I’d love to get to know the real you more.” 

“Really?” Gareth asked, smiling softly. 

“Really.”

“Well, uh, in that case,” Gareth said, leaning closer. “Can I… uh, can I kiss you?” He asked softly. 

“Please,” you replied. 

Gareth smiled and leaned in closer, placing his lips against yours softly. You smiled, kissing him back as your fingers played with his hair on the back of his neck gently. Gareth’s right hand moved up to your face, caressing your cheek softly as he pulled you closer to him with his left hand that was still placed in your hip. 

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Would you, maybe, uh, want to go out with me sometime?” He stuttered out softly, looking at you. 

“Absolutely.” You replied, leaving another soft kiss on his lips.

gareth tag list: wanna be added? comment + let me know! @keeryhours ; @darkyuffie-blog ; @luveediary ; @the-witty-pen-name ; @bastardstevie ; @pupwrites ; @swiftieintheupsidedown ; @hawkinsmafia ; @the-unforgivenn ; @corrodedcorpses ; @potatoesenpaii ; @cowboylikemunson

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two / Part Three (You Are Here)

Complete Thing on A03

Sure enough, Jason Carver had brought a priest. 

The idiot himself stood next to the guy, smugly grinning like a hunter posing with his prized buck, a small crowd already gathering. 

Opposing them was Michael Wheeler, hands planted on Hellfire’s table and back up like a pissed off cat’s, mouth moving faster than Eddie thought possible.

He couldn’t hear what Wheeler was saying. 

Frankly did not want to know what Wheeler was saying, and could only do his damndest to intervene before Mike tanked the situation entirely. 

Gareth and Jeff flanked him, both tense as hell. Neither had backed down though, standing tall and holding ground even as Jason pulled more and more people into his little spectacle. 

Lucas and Grant on the other hand, were standing off to the side.

They weren’t cowering exactly, but both were definitely wincing as Gareth opened his mouth to add his own two cents. 

Given the scowl on the priest, it was probably something nasty, 

‘Fuck.’ Eddie thought, teeth clenched, as Jason drew out his arms, making an even bigger production for his little audience. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ 

The worst thing of all? 

Dustin managed to reach the group before anyone else did. 

Wheeler and Emerson might have low charisma, but Dustin had a particular combination of snark and a know-it-all attitude that really pissed off authority figures. 

(And Eddie would know, given he was the reigning champion of pissing off authority figures.) 

He did, however, slide in right in time to hear the priest respond. 

“I don’t care for your tone, young man. Jason here has some concerns over your club and I have to agree, what I see is quite,” The guy paused, jowls jiggling as he looked over their table, clearly eyeing Hellfire’s logo. “alarming.” 

 At least wasn’t an actual sermon.

Not yet, anyway. 

Eddie came up right inbetween Mike and Dustin, intending to make himself out to be the new target for all to aim at.  

There was an art to making yourself the sole owner of everything evil in this world, and Eddie had learned it all, trial by fire style.  

“Carver is full of--” Mike snarled, and thankfully was cut off—not by Eddie, or the hand he’d just clamped onto Mike’s shoulder—but by Harrington. 

Who sauntered right up as if he was joining everyone for dinner, and not walking into a circus act.

“Hello Father.” Harrington said, voice warm and welcoming.  “Would you like some of our cookies? We have a sample platter.” 

“Oh--Steve!” The priest blinked, actually blinked, that he was startled to see Hawkins’ golden boy appear next to him. “I’m sorry but no. I’m ah, here for other reasons.”

He paused so long it was nearly comedic before tentatively asking; “ Are you with this table?”

Like the guy couldn’t see the same Hellfire logo plastered across Steve’s ridiculous jock chest. 

Eddie opened his mouth to give a resounding no, Hellfire shirt or not--when Mike of all people put an elbow into his side. 

As if Eddie was the one who needed to be silenced.  

“I am.” Steve put an arm down on Dustin’s shoulder, squeezing it in a way that looked like fond encouragement (but what Eddie was pretty sure was actually a warning in the same way the hand on Mike’s shoulder was.) “I came to help out my friends and fundraise.”

Then he beamed, face lighting up with the full Harrington charm, giga watt smile and all. 

Now the priest just looked awkward. 

“You’ve apparently been fundraising for what I have been told is a…Satanist Club?” 

It was hilariously delicate, how the priest said it. Like now that a respectable member of Hawkins was here, he had to be more careful about what words he used. 

Eddie would have interrupted then.  Retake the reins and do what he did best in terms of making everyone forget about everything but him--except Carver was rounding on Harrington, and well.

He was always a fan of the rich eating each other. 

“You cannot seriously be with these--these,” Jason’s eyes darted to between him and the priest, before physically reigning himself in. “hooligans, Harrington!” 

“I’m sorry.” Harrington said, and whatever Jason had been expecting to get hit with, it wasn’t “good ol’ boy” southern charm. 

He blinked, taking on the air of a kicked puppy who couldn’t understand why someone would be so mean as he glanced around the crowd.  “I think I'm a little lost here.” 

Jason clearly wasn’t prepared for that either. 

“What?” 

“This table is for a storytelling and math game.” Steve spoke slowly, in the same way one explained things to a toddler. “You have to roll dice and add the numbers up to do anything."

“It’s not a game, Steve.” Jason spat back. “It’s an evil trick made to tempt the susceptible minds of children to the dark arts!” 

Personally, Eddie was amazed Carver even knew the word susceptible let alone be able to properly use it in a sentence. 

(He tried to open his mouth to say so, and once again got elbowed, this time by Gareth. 

The look he gave his younger friend could have melted steel beams.)

“That’s what this is about?” Harrington slid his arm off Dustin's shoulders, leaning back to look at the priest and the people around them in a show of blatant disbelief. “You think the nerd club is related to satanism?” 

It was Eddie's own tactic--arguing that D&D was “using academic skills” and “making math fun!" not that Hellfire had ever been successful using it.

Of course, they weren’t Hawkins golden boy either. 

Jason sputtered. 

“It has monsters and--demons in it! It makes children do spells and sign over their souls!” He flung a hand out, for the first time acknowledging Eddie by pointing at his shirt. “Just look at that! It’s awful!”  

"Hey." Eddie said, hand going over his very well drawn dragon.

“I once had to stop an argument about how much weight a wooden bridge could hold.” Steve countered, hands moving to his hips. “I only got them to stop by agreeing to take the kids to a library so they could look it up.” 

He squinted, in Carver's direction, deadpanning; "I take it you think the library is evil now too?"

“The name of the club is called Hellfire!” Jason shrieked, sounding more like an angry teakettle than anything dangerous. 

“Look I get that it sounds scary,” Steve said, the tiniest hint of pity entering his voice, “but they’re trying to make math problems and English essays sound cool. It’s the same reason Father John here calls our annual haunted house Hell House, isn’t it? So people go in it to begin with?” 

Harrington turned to look expectantly at the priest, and Eddie had to admit it was an excellent way to both pander to the guy and sound like Jason was making a big deal out of nothing. 

Perhaps, he’d stay quiet after all. 

(Even if it went against Eddie’s entire being to do so.)

“Well, yes, but--” Father John had clearly picked up on the fact he was losing this particular argument, but plowed forward regardless. “Those activities are supervised by the church…” 

“This is evil Harrington, and you should know better to promote it.” Carver tacked on, like this was a two bit comedy sketch. 

“When I played it we just saved some poor town from a bad guy who set it on fire.” Steve rolled his eyes. 

Then he leaned in, converting his voice into a stage whisper that somehow projected it, giving the impression that everyone around them was listening in on a secret. 

“The doctor said it was a really good way for Dustin and Erica to process the mall fire. He’s a specialist--my mother managed to convince him to fly down to help all the kids who got hurt.” 

Eddie was 100% sure that was total bullshit, but the mere mention of Harrington's mother had seemed to have an effect on the people around them.

 Like Steve had invoked the name of an old but beloved God, not always benevolent but definitely memorable. 

“She’s always been a champion of helping when you can.” Steve spoke to the priest, like they were having a conversation between just the two of them. “Encouraging people to volunteer and helping fundraise.”

“She has been." Father John said, in the kind of instant way one does when they don’t want to offend a very large donor.  "Tell your mom I look forward to her coming back from her--ah, trip.”

 With an awkward glance to the table, he added; “...I suppose I don’t see how math comes into play?” 

“Oh it’s right from the start. Hey Jeff, come here, show Father John how you have to do a bunch of calculations and stuff to make a character.” 

“Ah--right.” Jeff sprung to life, moving around the table to Steve.

“We uh, we start with this character sheet…” 

“Eddie Munson runs the club.” Jason interrupted, before Steve could get Jeff to going.

“He’s right there! Does he look like this whole thing is just an innocent board game?” 

This was a last ditch effort, and it was clear by the chattering that had started circling amongst their audience that everyone knew it. 

Unfortunately, it was a good one.

This was the downside to making yourself a target. Once a bad guy, always a bad guy--particularly in the eyes of the PTA. 

“Munson?” Harrington dismissed with a scoff. “He’s harmless.” 

Which was news to most of their audience given the amount of attention Eddie suddenly had on him, but it was fine. 

He was used to the disapproving stares and glares, and gave his best award winning smile in response. 

Jason looked at Harrington like he’d lost his mind. 

“He has skulls on his fingers for fucks sake!” 

“Jason.” Steve admonished, in a perfect mimic of an upset southern mother. “Language.” 

Carver's jaw dropped, face purpling in rage.

Steve ignored him, turning back to the Priest. “I don’t know what's gotten into him but I’m sorry Jason’s wasted your time, Father.” 

“Munson is a drug dealer!” And ah, here came the Hail Mary move, Carver's one and only trump card.

“We all know he’s a drug dealer, and he’s using this--this game, to give drugs to kids!”

“Really?” Steve turned. “Lucas, what happens if I ever catch you smoking weed?” 

Lucas answered instantly. “You’re going to make us run laps at five in the morning.” 

“For a month.” Dustin added, with an exaggerated shudder. 

It would have been too much--except his disgusted face sold it. 

“Eddie’s just loud and wants to be a rockstar.” Harrington said, like this he was harmless.

No one on Steve's side of things had ever thought of Eddie as harmless.

 “I’ve babysat these kids for years and Eddie was a huge help in making sure no one in high school messed with them.” He continued, like they were some sort of team or friends even.

(Like Eddie hadn't been at Harrington's throat all day, pissy and defensive.)

“We have a real bullying problem right now. Funny enough,” Steve’s nailed Jason with a look, “I keep hearing that it’s coming from the basketball team.” 

“What are you implying?” Jason asked darkly. 

“Just that it’s funny how nobody got caught fighting when I was team captain.” Steve returned. 

God the man was such a bitch. Eddie kind of wanted to kiss him a little. 

Okay, more than a little.

“I get you have some kind of beef with Munson, but let’s not drag a bunch of people into it. Especially not Father John.” Harrington was playing up to the mothers around him now, dismissing Carver entirely as he did so. “He’s a busy guy.”

“Very.” Said Father nodded solemnly. “I do not appreciate being pulled into a high school squabble.” 

Jason’s mouth swam through shapes, words stuttering out of it. “This isn’t, thats not--”

“We can talk about this after church on Sunday.” Father John interrupted, the finishing blow to Carver's little show.

“You came all this way, at least have a cookie on us.” Steve said with an appeasing tone, reaching an arm back behind him.

Quick on the uptake, a cookie appeared in his hands. 

He offered it out to the priest, who took it happily.

"Okay, who wants cake!?” He called, in a clear and obvious dismissal of Jason. 

Who stood there, like he couldn’t believe what just happened. 

His eyes slid to Eddie's, fists clenched tightly at his side, hatred pouring off him so strongly one could almost taste it.

Eddie winked at him.

(Unknown to him at the time, Jason had also looked at Steve--and Steve would wink too.)

xXx

Steve Harrington, who Eddie had been an absolute ass all day too, had looked Jason Carver, a Priest and half of Hawkins in the eye and announced that he, Eddie Munson, was a good person at heart.

It made Eddie want to vomit a little when he thought about it too hard.

“I know this is horrible timing,” Robin said, sidling up as the crowd finally dispersed, “but I really, really need to talk to you.” 

Eddie turned, head full of far too many thoughts and ready to tell her such, when he caught sight of Buckley's face. 

Was reminded, by the sheer nervous, ‘horse about to bolt’ vibe, that he owed it to Robin as a fellow queer not to be a dick about her accidental outing.

Even if all he wanted was to preen in the wake of Carver’s defeat. 

‘See Mothers of Hawkins? Your own golden boy just gave me his stamp of approval!’ 

A mental image that immediately changed to Steve Harrington’s name stamped on his ass and dammit he had to get ahold of his thoughts before he fell down rabbit holes like this--!

“Back there, at the stairs,” Robin started, voice dropping low, and Eddie didn’t miss the way her eyes kept seeking out Steve, like he was some kind of safety net--which he probably was. “What um--what did you hear?” 

It took a lot of guts to come talk to him, knowing what he'd overheard--particularly given they'd just fended off the church.

He'd never exactly underestimated Robin Buckley, but then, he'd never expected this level of badassery from her either.

“Eddie?” Robin prodded again, chewing hard on her bottom lip.

“Sorry, distracted.” Eddie waved a hand behind himself. “Not everyday the King decides to defend your honor to a priest.” 

With a little bow, he offered his elbow out to her, a clear signal to take it and let him escort them away from unwanted ears.

In a show of bravery, Robin took his elbow and let him lead, even as she frowned up at him, looking like she was about to say something.

Likely it was in defense of Harrington, but Eddie had been interrupted enough for one day. 

“You and His Highness over there really should be more aware of your surroundings." He started, voice low. "Lucky for you, you’re among friends. You and Dorothy both.” 

He reached a foot out, tapping Robin’s own. 

Right on top of a doodled pair of tits. 

Robin let go of his elbow and glanced down, before flinging her head right back up, panicked.

"I--"

“If you’d like I can pretend I never heard a thing.” Eddie interrupted, dropping his voice into the gentler tone he reserved for delicate conversations.

People were always surprised by the lengths he went to make sure someone was comfortable--but then, people also forgot how often Eddie heard things he shouldn’t. 

People didn't take drugs just for fun, after all.

“Or I can offer a friend of a friend discount on my wares,” He put a finger to his lips, miming smoking with one hand while he opened his vest with the other to flash the little pink triangle pin that sat inside, announcing his own sexualities status.

“and we can, say, discuss the differences between radical and social feminism while admiring the fine forms of Susan Sarandon and Peter Hinwood?”

The smile he gets is two parts relief, one part genuine delight and Eddie grinned right back at her, flicking his vest closed.

“I did not take you for a Peter Hinwood type.” Robin said it hesitantly, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. “Thought you’d find Tim Curry’s…acting skills, more to your taste.”

“In the case of Rocky Horror? I am Tim Curry.” He announced, loud and proud (well for this kind of conversation at least.) 

He was rewarded by the tension finally melting out of Robin’s shoulders. 

(This, Eddie reflected, is what he should have been doing this entire time, instead of getting tied up in knots over Harrington and turning into some kind of non-conformist tyrant.) 

“Do you actually know the differences between social and radical feminism?” Robin challenged, braver now, and Eddie knew then and there he’d been successful in assuring her her secret was safe.

That she was safe, with him.

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” Eddie said, giving a playful nudge to her shoulder. 

Baths in the laugh he gets for it, and for the first time today feels like he’s finally on firmer ground.

They chatted for a moment longer, making a loop on the very outskirts of the gym, voices hushed when it came to things that small town ears shouldn’t overhear--but of course, Robin couldn’t just leave things at that.

“Hey Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you do me one more favor?”

“Anything for you, my favorite feminist.” 

For the first time since this conversation started, Robin managed to sound firm. 

“Stop referring to Steve as a King.” 

She rushed ahead, anticipating being cut off, and thus Eddie is hit with a wave of words, none of which he’d ever thought he’d hear in relation to thee Steven Harrington. 

“He’s working really hard to get away from it, the whole King thing and how he used to be. I don’t know what all he did to like--you guys,” She flapped her hand in the general direction of Hellfire, “and I know he wasn’t an innocent bystander, but I kinda realized over the summer that I blamed him for a lot of things that were in my own head, and that he wasn’t--he was never as bad as I thought he was and he's still trying to make it up to me anyway.”

Robin trailed off, seeming to try and piece out what she wanted to say next without giving away the whole farm. “It’s not some act, Eddie. Steve’s really trying to change.” 

Which yeah.

Eddie could see that, now. 

Maybe not before but…

“Okay.” He said, after a long, long moment. “No more King Steve. Got it.”

The smile he got for that also felt like a victory, even if it was wrenched out of him.

xXx

Two hours and a dispersed crowd later, Eddie found himself once again stuck in his own head. 

The facts were thus:

Steve Harrington was a good dude. 

He used his good dude-ness to save Hellfire from a literal priest, right smack in front of God and Principal Hairy Ass both

All of Hellfire actually liked him 

According to Robin Buckley, Steve was entirely fine with “all us triangles” quote/unquote 

And;

Eddie was jealous.

He was self aware enough to admit it, alongside the fact that Jason Carver aside, maybe Eddie had been the villain today instead of Steve. 

Which meant he not only owed Harrington an apology, but he owed it to both of them to work out his own stupid shit before it blew up in his face and cost him all his friends.

(He’d have called this move “pulling a Harrington” before today but now that feels mean, which Eddie supposes signals he’s grown as a person or some shit.) 

So now he sits on Steve’s beemer, knowing the move will likely antagonize the ex-jock but equally knowing he’s planning on jumping off the car the second the guy comes near, and that the move itself will get Harrington to listen to him the second he’s done supervising whatever Hellfire’s youngest is doing.

(Eating leftover cookies like the older members are as they finish packing up, Eddie assumes.) 

Ducking out like he did had allowed him some much needed time to think things though. Figure out what he was going to say--without an audience present.

He’d apologize publicly if he had to. But being vulnerable is hard, and given the way his friends had been acting, Steve isn’t the only person he owes an apology to. 

For now, he’ll begin here, without an audience. 

Eddie doesn’t get to plan for long--only gets to rehearse a few lines of his little spiel when a pointed cough jerks him back to reality. 

There stands Steve Harrington, a fat wad of cash in one hand and a box in the other.

Like a man sent to the gallows, Eddie leapt off the beemer, squaring his shoulders. 

He could do this.

 Apologize-- and mean it. 

Not that Steve gave him the chance to. 

“The guys told me to give this to you.” He said, holding out the cash. Then he took a breath, like he was preparing to go to war, and added; 

“I know you weren’t happy with me being here, and you probably don’t want this, but Dustin said you really liked cinnamon brownies so I made you some.” 

The box was now held out alongside the cash, proof that Steve had tried to start this whole thing off on the right foot. 

Eddie stared at it, then at Steve. 

Felt the guilt chew on his gut just that much harder.

“I have been shitty to you all day. Why are you giving me this?” 

Steve shrugged. 

“To be fair I didn’t exactly make it easy on you either. You said jump and I said ‘watch this’.” Steve laughed, a small, almost self depicting sound. “Dustin’s been on my ass all day about it.” 

Of course he had. 

“Mine too.” Eddie admitted. “It's his tone, I swear."

“Yes!” 

Carefully, Eddie reached out, accepted the box and the cash. 

“Thanks by the way. For the stuff you said about me earlier.” 

Steve grimaced, cheeks tinting a (lickable) red. “Yeah sorry, I--”

“No not--not that stuff.’ Eddie said, mentally hauling his thoughts back in line, fiddling with the cash. “The stuff about being a good person. No one’s uh. Said that. About me.”

Not except for Wayne, but Harrington wouldn’t know nor care about Eddie’s uncle. 

Steve shrugged. “I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” 

He’d argue that, except something was off. 

It took Eddie a moment to place it--that the wad Steve handed over was way too big for the little bake sale they’d just attended. 

He tucked the box under his arm, quickly counting the stack with a smoothness only drug dealers and bank tellers could manage.

“It’s all there, I promise.” Steve told him simply, but without judgment. He sounded like he expected this and that didn’t sit right with Eddie either. 

Not that he could do anything about it because he’d just counted up didn’t make any sense. 

Not trusting himself, Eddie stacked it back together, before counting it all again. He was faster this time, trying to figure out among all the ones, fives and tens how the hell they had managed to sell that many cookies. 

Particularly considering the most expensive thing was one of the cakes and he’d watched Steve sell it for fifteen dollars. 

So why were there three twenties sitting in the stack? 

“Either you up charged the absolute shit out of someone’s mom, in which case I congratulate you, you sneaky devil,” Eddie said slowly, “Or you put extra cash in here.” 

Steve blushed properly this time. 

Eddie zeroed in on his face, watching as Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, trying to pull his charming mask into place.

He didn't quite manage it.

Hadn’t even been wearing it before now, Eddie realized suddenly.

This entire conversation Steve had a realness to him that Eddie had never really seen. 

Had maybe not wanted to see, from someone like Harrington. 

“I don’t know what you mean.” Steve protested, like a kid who’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “That’s what we charged.” 

“You are a terrible liar.” Eddie accused, hand trembling. “We can’t take this, man. This is a almost two hundred dollars.” 

Way more than what they’d need for Gen Con. It was enough to get them two fuckin’ hotel rooms! 

“If It helps any, I didn’t do it for you.” Steve’s blush slid into something more genuine, as he nodded his head to where Hellfire was spilling out of the gym doors, laughing and shoving one another. 

“They deserve to have a good trip.” He added, eyes fond as he watched Dustin and Mike squabble over how to fold Hellfire's banner.

It made his whole face soften, the harsh features of his jaw turning into something that was so adorable Eddie wanted to bite through it. 

“Do you want to come?” Someone said, and it took both Steve’s startled look and a second long pause for Eddie to realize that someone was him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid-! 

“To the convention?” Steve asked, looking doubtful. 

Pity that Eddie was already nodding, like his brain and his body were at a total disconnect.

Maybe aliens had finally taken him over. Or a demon. 

(Demonic possession could frankly explain a lot about today, Carver’s weird little power play aside.)

“Dude you don’t even like me.” Steve said. “Why would you want me to come along?” 

“I dunno Harrington. All of Hellfire seemed to like you, and not just my freshman.” Eddie countered easily, gliding right over the fact that he himself did like Steve.

Way more than he should, and that right there was half of Eddie’s problem. 

“They have pretty good taste in things.” He waived a hand, as if this wasn’t a complete 180 from how he’d acted all day. “I could understand if you didn’t want to slum it with us nerds though.”

Steve rolled his eyes. 

“I’ve been slumming it all day with you nerds, if you haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah? What’s your verdict on us?” 

“Not as bad as you could be.” 

Eddie tilted his head back and laughed. “High praise from the King!”

He felt bad immediately after, and made himself promise to be more mindful about Robin’s ask--but  thankfully Harrington didn’t take it hard. 

(Habits, Eddie knew, were hard to change.

Took a lot of careful attention to change. 

He had a long road ahead of him, and he hoped this little olive branch put him a few miles down it.) 

Steve awarded him a small smile. “I haven’t been the King for a long while, man. But if you guys have an opening, I think I wouldn’t mind being a knight or whatever.” 

“Ste-eeeve Harrington, defender of the realm.” Eddie nodded once, decisively. “I can see it.”

He tucked away the cash, and thus missed how Steve looked weirdly contemplative at that. 

Raised his head and stuck out a hand. 

Tentatively, Steve took it. 

“Welcome to the club, Harrington. We meet on Fridays. Bring snacks.” 

“Cookies okay?”

“Going by Gareth’s judgment, they’re more than okay.”

Eddie smiled and Steve smiled back, and God how he hated how fucking cute Harrington’s face was. 

Particularly since he now got to think of the guy as “Steve” without feeling weird about it. 

As in his possible, potential, friend Steve.

What a fucking trip that was. 

“Oh, and Steve?” He called, the thought hitting him as Steve turned to welcome the group making their way to the beemer.

Steve had let his hand fall, turning to open the front door of the Beemer with a cocked eyebrow.

Eddie flicked a finger out, lightly tapping the Hellfire logo. “Tell Lucas I’ll get him another shirt. That one’s all yours, big boy.” 

If there was a pink hue to Harrington’s cheeks, he was blaming sunburn. 

(Two months, six days, and one meddlesome asshole named Henderson later, and Eddie would find out that Steve had in fact, been blushing.

He’d be furious at Dustin’s involvement, if it hadn’t directly led to Eddie finding out Steve’s blush did in fact go down his chest.

And his happy trail.

And his--

Well.

Men do not kiss and tell. 

Not to fucking freshmen, anyway.) 

THERE IS A GEN CON, "THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED BECAUSE DUSTIN IS A MEDDLESOME SHIT" BONUS BUT it's on A03 cause it was long enough to be its own post and I wasn't gonna add it to this one. You can read it here LINK

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You're visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

You're mindlessly perusing through the aisles of Family Video. Your younger cousin, Gareth dragged you along so you could help him decide on what movie to pick.

He approaches you with two in hand, "Halloween or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"

You grimace and look at him with a confused look, "Gare, it's the summer time. Why the hell do you want to watch horror movies?" It was summer time. You were one hundred percent sure there were better movies to pick than either of those two.

Your cousin rolls his eyes at you, "You can watch scary movies any time of the year, Y/N." His statement makes it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It feels wrong watching it during the summer," you try to reason with Gareth.

He smirks, "Do you not want to watch it because it 'feels wrong'," he says using air quotations, "or is it cause you're a scaredy cat?" He's looking at you with the most annoying look on his face that you kind of want to punch him.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Shut the fuck up, Gareth. I'm not the one who refused to swim in the pool three summers ago after watching Poltergeist."

You hear a snort around the corner, causing you and Gareth to turn. A guy who looks around to be your age comes into view. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's smirking at Gareth, "You refused to go swimming after Poltergeist?"

Gareth rolls his eyes, "You never know if the pool you're swimming in was built over dead bodies that hadn't been relocated!"

The guy snorts and looks at you, sticking his hand out, "I'm Eddie-"

"Munson. Yeah, Gare's mentioned you before. I'm Y/N," you grasp his hand and give it a quick shake.

"Huh. Funny. Gareth never mentioned he had a girlfriend," he looks you up and down with no shame.

Both you and Gareth gag.

"We're cousins!"

"That's so fucking gross."

Eddie chuckles and holds his hands up, "Sorry. Didn't mean to assume," he then grabs the two movies from Gareth's hands. He looks at both and then shoves Texas Chainsaw Massacre to his chest, "Chainsaw Massacre is better."

He smirks and looks you up and down one last time, "Hope to see ya around Y/N," he gives you a wink and heads to the counter to pay.

Gareth looks at you and then Eddie and then back at you, "Please, don't," he says with a pleading face of desperation.

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"Please don't tell me you like Eddie."

"I don't....I just think he's...pretty."

Gareth gags again and you smack him on the head, "Oh quit it! Besides, I can have a summer fling if I want! You said there's nothing fun to do in this town, so why can't I create some fun for myself?"

"That's gross," your cousin shudders and goes to the counter to pay.

___________________________

The next time you see Eddie is at band practice. Eddie as well as the rest of Corroded Coffin arrive at Gareth's ready to practice their new set.

Eddie gives you a nod while the rest of the guys are fairly awkward around you. While they're warming up and tuning their instruments, you go up to Eddie, putting an extra sway to your hips.

"Is it okay if I'm here?"

He nonchalantly shrugs with a grin on his face, "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

You nod towards Jeff and Doug behind him, "I think I make them uncomfortable."

Eddie looks over his shoulder and snorts, "It's just 'cause they've never been in the presence of a hot girl before."

You smirk at him, "You think I'm hot?"

He looks you up and down like he did at the video store, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart."

"CAN WE PLEASE START PRACTICE NOW?!" Gareth yells, breaking the tension that started to build between you and Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes and slips his guitar strap over his shoulder, "Yeah, alright." He slowly backs away but shoots you a wink as he gets into position.

You plop yourself onto the couch ready to watch what your cousin and his friends got.

__________________

You thought Eddie was hot before but holy fuck was he sexy as hell now after you've watched him perform. The way he plays and sings his heart out is just...it leaves you speechless...and a little hot.

After practice was over, Gareth goes up to you, sweaty but with a proud look on his face, "So? Whaddaya think?"

"You guys sound pretty good, Gare. And you guys are performing this weekend right?"

"Yup! You're coming right?"

You snort, "I have nothing else better to do, plus, I gotta support your annoying ass," you shove his shoulder and your cousin rolls his eyes.

You try to shove him again but Gareth dodges you and steps away. You chuckle and then glance at Eddie, who's had his eyes on you the entire time.

You walk up to him with a smirk, "Not bad, Van Halen."

"Thanks," Eddie puffs up his chest in pride, "Gonna be our first groupie, hm?"

You scoff and wave off his comment, "Oh please, I'm just supporting my cousin."

Eddie licks his lips and leans closer to you, "Come on. Once we get big, you can have bragging rights that you were our first fan and that you knew us before we blew up."

You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side, "That all I get for seeing you guys perform? Bragging rights?"

He looks at you with a smirk, "Why? You want something more?"

You snort and take a step closer to Eddie, your face very close to his, "Think you have something I'd want, Pretty Boy?"

He's smiling wide at you now, "You think I'm pretty?"

You look him up and down just like how he did earlier. To repeat his words back to him, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart." You then turn on your heel and head back inside Gareth's house leaving him feeling equally as hot as he made you feel.

Part 2

[undreaming-fanfiction]

As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...

Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.

He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.

Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.

Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."

Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."

"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."

Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."

Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."

But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."

Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.

And unsurprisingly, he's right.

[eddiernunson]

Take My Anger | mean!Eddie x Reader | 18+

Summary: Eddie is pissed after a session from Hellfire and you offer for him to take his anger out on you.

Warnings: This is...intense. Mouth fucking, lots degradation, use of stop/go, slight dom!eddie, light after care, reader is in established relationship with Eddie. Also depicts him being a dick about Dustin but never to his face.

Based on a conversation I had with the lovely @oddussy420 thank you for the inspo <3

Words: 2.4k

Disclaimer: I wrote this high as shit. That's all.

Eddie walked out of his Hellfire session as his friends celebrate feeling frustrated. Dustin kept finding out his plots and purposefully picking against him…somehow. As the beginning of the semester aired, Eddie realized quickly he would have to up his game when Dustin picked up on his usual storytelling methods. Either Gareth, Josh, and Peter weren’t that observational or just didn’t care enough to pay attention, but Dustin picked up on his three methods in a mere four weeks.

Eventually Dustin started challenging him by picking against the usual route. It made Eddie need to learn how to think on his feet and dig through his own list of plots he’d came up with mentally. It certainly made Eddie prepared at almost every twist, eventually he met Dustin’s challenges with a half-smirk. Eddie’s rise in confidence had to do with several factors, but for time and storytelling reasons we’ll get into two of them (for now).

One, Eddie had practice with Dustin being a shithead. Loads and loads of it, the point where he had come to welcome Dustin’s alternative routes and sometimes rely on them.

Two, Eddie spent weeks figuring out a quest where Dustin would think he’s leading again but Eddie had everything planned out to work out so that no matter what they’d get to the big twist he had planned. He started to feel confident on his plan at this point.

Eddie spent damn near hours in that library researching and writing in his spiral notebook that was so tattered from the years of ripped out pages. He had given Dustin a ride home one late night after Hellfire, and as Dustin left, he caught a glimpse of the thing that Eddie had, quite frankly, been so obvious he didn’t want Dustin to see. If he hadn’t touched it, Dustin would never have known. Eddie kept trying to not so secretly keep it hidden, which was his dead giveaway.

Somehow, Dustin needed to get to that notebook. There’s only a handful of things that Eddie would be protective as he was. You, his guitar, his van, and his plans for DnD sessions. Luckily Josh, who doesn’t know a thing about Eddie and Dustin’s game of cat and mouse, was the one to provide the combination. During Eddie’s free period where he’s usually found making out with you in the forest or goofing off in the drama room, Dustin went into his locker and picked up the graffitied notebook.

It had every answer, and Dustin had to say he was impressed. He would have to be sneaky to throw him off to a different route this time. In a manner of ten minutes of a quick study Dustin knew the plan, and it happened to be one Eddie was excited and hyping up for the group for that same Friday. Dustin came up with his own counter-move for everything, knowing Eddie would want to lead to the big twist and Dustin would move away.

When the day came, Dustin had managed to throw off the story and quest completely, and Eddie saw red. Of course, he knew Dustin was only playing the cat and mouse game, but it felt like his weeks of work and his excitement was just something to laugh at than indulge in for Dustin. As the game ended, Dustin offered his hand to shake for no hard feelings. You walk into the drama room, bounce down the stairs, your ponytail swinging down each step as you say goodbye to the members already leaving.

Oh, the last reason he became more confident? You finally asked him out and you and him had gotten together.

You watch as Eddie meets the handshake nodding to Dustin to let him know they were okay. However, one look at Eddie told you he was pissed. He has all the tell-tale signs. The locked jaw, hardened eyes, the overly intimidating posture. He smiles as his friends leave but the smile is nowhere near his eyes. You have no idea how they didn’t see his anger.

Maybe Eddie’s just good at knowing what he was angry at.

The last person lets the door slam behind them, and it’s loud in the silence that follows. “Hey, baby.” You greet him, walking up to stand face to face with him.

Eddie gulps, looking down at the table blankly as his arm wraps around your back. “Hey,” he answers, his voice gruff and short.

You hesitate in your question, gently caressing his tense back. “How…how was Hellfire?”

Eddie takes a large inhale in, as if calming himself. “That shithead Henderson…” He does it again, closing his eyes. “That shithead Henderson found my notebook and memorized everything.” He stops talking, finding himself getting a bit worked up. “I spent weeks on that campaign just for him to…” he sighs, leaning onto the table, “just for him to destroy it in an hour.”

“Oh, baby that sucks.” You emphasize with him.

“Yeah, no shit it sucks!” Eddie laughs, walking from you towards the head of the table where his throne sits.

Okay, now he’s being mean with you, too.

He sits down on the throne, his one leg hanging over an arm rest. You checked the time, knowing this session ran late and wanting to catch that movie that he asked you to. If he’s pissed to the point of being just plain mean it would take some time calming to get him down to regular mad.

Fuck. He’s never this way after an orgasm, it would roll right off his shoulder. An idea.

You observe where Eddie is sat in his throne, deciding you could fit in the space between the table and his legs. Eddie doesn’t even notice you crawling under the table on your bare knees until you reach his line of sight on the floor right in front of him.

“Whoa, what’re you doing down there?”

“You couldn’t see me anywhere else.” You shrug. You sit back on your knees, looking up at him with that stare you knew got to him. Wide eyes, big smile. He loves it when you’re eager. “Is there anything I could do to help you feel better?”

“No, I’ll be fine. I’m just pissed.”

“Anything?” You ask crawling up between his legs. “You don’t need help taking your frustrations out…any other way?” Your hands move up and down his legs, watching as he immediately leans back and sighs. His brown eyes remain fixated on yours. Offering a blowjob is one thing, but offering this? Holy fuck, has he won the lottery.

“What’re you offering?” Eddie asks, sounding uninterested.

You don’t buy it for a second. “Use my mouth. Fuck it, then you’ll feel much better when I swallow.”

Eddie’s chest rapidly inflates in response, his eyes welcoming that sprinkle of lust he usually has. “Then do it.” Your hands work fast, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as fast as possible. He chuckles darkly as he legs his pants fall to his knees, watching you eagerly eye his cock. “Get to it.”

You wrap your lips around the head, sucking lightly as a tease. It happens only for a second as a harsh hand lands on your neck and forces you down further on it. Perfect. You bob your head up and down, getting it nice and wet. As you continue, saliva naturally curates and you let it all drool on to him, spit and slobber covering your hand you had supporting you and your mouth. “Oh shit.” Eddie comments, watching you through half-mooned eyes.

Since you suggested him fucking your mouth it was all that was in your brain. You find his hand again, placing it around the base of your ponytail. Eddie immediately takes it into his fist and moves your head so harshly you’re surprised by the initial move. He kept up the movement, eventually muttering to himself. “Oh, take that cock. Oh shit, fucking whore, you take it.”

Just when you adjusted to him suddenly, he pushes himself down your throat, his treasure trail meeting your nose. How did his treasure trail smell so good? You clutch onto his jeans in front of you, tears forming as he stays in the back of his throat and doesn’t move. When it’s been a longer time than usual, Eddie can sense your curiosity. “I wanted to see how long you could take this, a cock at the back of your throat. What a good whore I have…” It was only a minute more when you hit Eddie’s thigh twice, air needed to be brought to you or you would’ve passed out. He places a hand beneath your chin, staring at you in awe as you catch your breath. Your face looked a disaster, your eye makeup a tad runny while your mouth was covered in your own spit. He loved it.

“Bend over.” He commands, and from the authority in his voice you don’t have a damn option. Your underwear is snatched off you, it’s not even down to your knees when Eddie slips into you without pacing himself. He moved right into bucking his hips against yours, the slap of them bouncing harsh enough to bruise. “Baby?” He asks, his voice soft for one moment.

“Go.” You let him know.

“Fucking whore, letting me fuck her just to get some anger out.” His hand goes around your torso, his hands holding you harshly enough to bruise. “Fuck, pussy is so good, though. Look at me.”

You turn your head to face him, and he leans in to kiss you and he does so gently, his tongue sliding against yours with grace. He lets go of you, letting you fall forward on your chest on the table as he continues to buck his hips into you. That was purposeful; you realize. He wanted to embarrass you.

“Let your tits out, slut.” He orders you, his voice showing indifference as the little whines escape your throat. You move your dress down your torso off your shoulders, exposing your nipples to the hard linoleum table. Eddie lifts you up to him, turning you around so one leg was on his shoulder.

“Oh fuck.” You whimper as he starts to hit your g-spot at this angle.

Eddie stops his movements real quick “Hey. You’re the fuck toy. Shut up.” His crass choice treating you as such only turns you on more, your hand covering your mouth as your eyes roll into the back of your head in arousal. Eddie notices, your pussy becoming wetter in response. “Slut loves when I put her in her place.”

You nod your head, hand still on your mouth as you tried not to make another sound.

“The perfect fuck doll, baby. Take this cock so fucking well, goddamn whore.”

His hand reaches the now loose ponytail and pulls. You smile up at him, the reaction sends more anger through him as he pulls tighter. You manage not to moan in response but the pleasure that it sent through you was indescribable.  

“So fucking pissed, spent fucking…weeks…” He mutters, his hips still going at an unprecedented rate against you, his grip he now has on your forearm starting to feel sore. “Fucking steals…fuck you’re such a damn good whore.”

Heat remained explosive from your pussy, and though he’s barely put any attention on your pleasure you were almost there. “I-I’m close.” You mutter, and Eddie lets out a chuckle.

“Of course, you get off to being a fucktoy. It’s all you are.” He pounds into you a handful of times, feeling your heat flutter around him as you got closer. “Fuck, I’m close, too.” He puts the leg on his shoulder down and lies you flat on the table, the impact against your back harsh and cold. He places a hand around your neck, cutting your air off. “You’re not gonna cum until I tell you to. Understand?”

You nod, two hands gripping his strong forearm. He admires how his rings make a nice necklace around your throat.

His other hand meets your clit, starting to rub at it to purposely get you to that high as fast as possible. Eddie knew you so goddamn well he could time your orgasm to take however fast and slow he wanted. “Uh-uh,” Eddie tuts when he sees your entire body tense up in preparation for an orgasm. “Not yet.” He lets go of your folds, letting you feel the loss, then he places his hand there again.  

He repeats it, twice. Each time you get more and more desperate to cum, and Eddie can feel your pussy shaking from it.

“AH!” He tuts again, yanking his fingers as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your legs tense right up.

“Please, Eddie. Please.” You beg him, the overstimulation at this point too much. “Lemme cum, I need it so bad. Please.”

“Oh thank you for using your manners, whore.” Eddie uses his hand one more time on you, strategically getting you off at a calmer rate and loving how your face looks as you finally cum around him.

Heat invaded you as you finally cum, your body going limp as Eddie continues to fuck you. He’s gone in seconds, the entire time he was torturing himself, as well. The afterglow kicks in, and Eddie slips himself out of you as his hand swipes your face lovingly. “Oh, baby. My sweet girl.” He stays laying down with you until he sees you come back down to earth, and you inhale and exhale deeply, attempting to catch your breath. “There she is. You did so fucking good, baby.”

You smile up at him, your heart expanding. “Yeah?”

“Fuck.” Eddie swears, a laugh escaping him. “We definitely missed the movie, but we can go look at the stars, again, if you want.”

“Out in the field by your place?” You ask hopefully, remembering one of your first dates where he spent most of the night eating you out.

He places his hands delicately on your cheek, kissing you with all the love in the world. “Of course, sweetheart.”

You sigh, your heart still racing.

He can feel your heart still pounding against his chest. “You okay to walk?”

“I’ll need a few more minutes, stay with me.”

He let you crawl into his arms until you recovered, making himself pissed for not having a source of water on hand. “Grab some food later?”

You nod in his chest, taking in the scent of the cologne on the shirt he didn’t take off. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Miles, thank you so much for that, sweetheart.”

You smile into his chest, proud of getting him to handle his anger in a way you’ve talked about. “Of course, baby.”

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read your comments, replies, and reblogs. As always, reblogging is the best way to support your fic writers on tumblr.

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

[rockthrowingbutch]

Reading Le Morte d’Arthur for the first time. Impressions of the characters so far (I’ll update as I go along):

- King Urther: A real bastard

- King Arthur: World’s Biggest Doofus™

- Merlin: What’s a little war crimes between friends?

- Kings Ban & Bors: Gotta have lackeys

- Sir Balin & Balan: World’s Second & Third Biggest Doofus’s™

- The Mysterious Damsel who gives Balin his cursed sword: Is there a funnier way of getting revenge than offering them a cursed sword, telling them it’s a cursed sword, offering to take it back before the curse affects them, and then just leaving with a shrug when they decide to keep it?

- King Pellam: Having your junk stabbed off with the same spear that stabbed Jesus has got to be a real complicated experience for a devout Christian

- King Pellinor: The Questing Beast is a giraffe right? Pellior’s family has just been hunting a giraffe through the woods of Britain for generations, right?

- King Lot: I feel like he has valid reason to be pissed

- Lady(/Ladies?)of the Lake: Just how many of these soggy dames are there? Love the one who handles Merlin’s unwanted affections by having him teach her magic and then dropping a rock on him. This guy bothering you? Drop a rock on him!

- Queens Igraine & Morgause: These poor women

- Mordred: This poor kid

- Morgan Le Fay: Love her

- Sir Gawain: Extremely messy bisexual disaster who should not be allowed to handle sharp objects

- Sir Yvain: Love the way he reacts to being woken up by the news that his mom is about to murder his dad with the same energy as a cat owner hearing retching in the dark.

- Sir Accolon: Good help is hard to find

- Sir Tor: The Only Normal Guy™

- Sir Lancelot: Has been mentioned approximately 600 times and hasn’t even appeared in the story yet. UPDATE: He has finally appeared! You ever accidentally become important at your job because you had thrown yourself into work in order to distract from an unrequited crush on a married woman? Who hasn’t?

Sir Gareth/Beaumains: Boy is determined to get 100% on hard mode

Favorite part so far: Merlin’s repeated habit of providing Arthur with important information while in disguise. He has done this like five times now and Arthur never catches on. He tries it once on Balin & Balan, who are not the sharpest swords in the scabbard themselves, and they catch on right away but Arthur is just continually falls for it.

Favorite line so far: “For he was so full of Knighthood that, knightly, he withstood the pain”

[fuctacles]

idiot4idiot but one of them is a milf with cats

<< seventeen | 😺 | nineteen >>

This time, he does take a quick shower at Steph's apartment, and slips into a loose pair of flannel pajamas. With his hair still damp despite the bun he put it in, he stands in the door frame of her bedroom. She's laying on her side, scratching Garfield, and wearing a pajama set with his namesake on the front. 

"Nice shirt," Eddie grins, stepping closer to scratch the orange cat too. He looks at him with moderate interest, but doesn't protest. 

"Thanks, it was a gift from Robin." Steph pulls on the hem self-consciously. "My sexy lace set is in the laundry, sorry." 

"Oh this is plenty sexy," Eddie reassures her, hand drifting to the exposed skin where the soft fabric rode up her thigh. She's silky smooth under his fingertips, making him wonder if she'd recently shaved. 

"We're just sleeping," she reminds him. 

"Oh yeah, I know." He nods quickly. "To make all my lonely nights from now on feel even lonelier. I know."

"You know it works both ways?" Steph raises an eyebrow at him. 

Between them, Garfield meows to remind them there are too many people in the room and not enough scratches. Regretfully, Eddie takes his hand off Steph's thigh to pet at his back again.

"Well, at least you have Garfield," he points out. 

"Don't you have a roommate?" She cocks her head. 

Eddie snorts. 

"Gareth is not a cuddly person, unfortunately. Jeff, maybe." He nods his head to the side.

"The drummer and the guitarist, right?"

"You remembered!" Eddie grins, feeling seen. Not everyone cares to listen about his interests, since they're not your usual run-of-the-mill topics.

"It's just three names." She shrugs. "Gareth on drums, Jeff on guitar, and Doug on bass," she lists off on her fingers. "It's not that hard to remember."

"It's still nice. Means you're listening to my ramblings."

"Well, you know what else I remember?"

"What?" He smiles, cocking his head curiously. 

"That I'm yet to hear you play anything. Maybe the whole band is made up to make you seem more appealing." She purses her lips thoughtfully. 

"Well, I must have something else going on too, considering I'm in your bedroom right now and all you've heard are tales," he points out.

"Touché."

"If I bring out the guitar, you might propose on the spot."

"Oh, I might even spontaneously produce ovaries and get pregnant."

Eddie almost chokes on the laugh pulled out of him, and startles Garfield out of his spot. The cat frowns at him before jumping off the bed and walking to a small bed in the corner, tail held high. Still laughing, he climbs into the vacated spot, and Steph shuffles back to make more space for him.

"As flattering as it sounds," Eddie wheezes out, bouncing on his knees. "I'd prefer more conventional conception." He tries to waggle his eyebrows, but the giggly tremors of his shoulders completely ruin it. 

"I don't know, I could pop out the new Jesus," Steph counters thoughtfully. 

Eddie manages only two second of looking into her serious expression, before bursting back into laughs and almost falling off the bed. Steph instinctively grips at his thigh to anchor him to the mattress. 

"Stop, please!" he wheezes, tears in his eyes. 

Steph raises her eyebrows.

"What, you don't think I'm worthy?"

In a last ditch attempt to prevent his premature death from laughter, Eddie clamps her mouth shut with his hand.

"Please! Stop!" he begs, still laughing.

At first surprised, Steph quickly relaxes, rolling her eyes as she leans back against the pillows to wait him out. He ends up on the bed next to her, muffling the last of his laughs into the bedding. Once his breathing starts getting back to normal, she sticks out her tongue. 

"Sorry!" He rolls onto his side and pulls his hand away, wiping it against his bare chest. "Just, please don't release the next messiah into the world."

Steph spreads her palms helplessly. 

"If god chooses me, god chooses me."

Eddie groans in pain.

"Stop being funny, my chest hurts."

"Oh? Poor baby." Steph pouts mockingly, reaching out to rub at his chest. Eddie observes her hands journey, from the edge of his ribs to his clavicle, tracing the black widow tattoo. "Should I kiss it better?" she asks. 

"Uh-huh. Might help," Eddie agrees quietly. 

With a gentle push, she turns him onto his back, rubbing gentle circles down his sternum. She leans closer to kiss the tattoos on his chest, her fingers moving to the side, circling around his areola, and without breaking eye contact, she sticks her tongue out to press it against his nipple. 

Eddie whines, which is encouragement enough for her to wrap her mouth around the bud. It quickly hardens in her mouth. 

"Steph..." 

She pulls off, blowing cold air at the wet skin. A quick glance down lets her know Eddie is pressing his thighs together, which makes her smile with wicked satisfaction. 

"Better?" she asks, laying her head down on his chest. Eddie's heartbeat thrums against her cheek. 

"I forgot what was wrong in the first place," he admits with a dazed expression. 

"Good." Steph chuckles. "But your heart is beating kind of fast," she points out with a worried expression. 

"Yeah, no shit," he deadpans, making her laugh and rub her face into his chest. With a huff of fake annoyance, he wraps his hands around her waist to hoist her up within kissing distance. "Just sleeping, she said," he murmurs against her lips. They kiss slowly, lazily, and there's no way she doesn't feel the half-chub against her thigh. But true to her words, she doesn't escalate it any further. 

He has a suspicion she might when she shuffles while half on top of him, but she just reaches out to the bedside lamp, switching it off to engulf them in the darkness.

They make out for a moment longer in the dark, until Eddie startles at the sudden movement at his feet. 

"Jesus!" he hisses, before remembering there are three extra living creatures in the apartment. Steph rolls off of him, giggling. 

"It's just Garfield."

"Well, Garfield almost scared me to death, which is not a sentence I ever thought I'd say," he whispers heatedly into the dark ceiling. Steph chuckles. 

"Wait until they wake you up in the middle of the night, jumping around the place."

"Oh, I see. This is some kind of test, isn't it? How many suitors have perished before me, unable to survive the night?"

"Shut up." She slaps his chest playfully. "There were no suitors. You're the first guy in this bed, actually. Well, a human one at least," she adds. 

"No way." Eddie turns on his side, though in the dark he can't see the woman in front of him anyway, only blurry features. "How long have you been living here? Is the bed new?" 

"Six years? Maybe more, I've lost count. The bed is the same."

"And what, you've had a dry spell for all these years?" he asks, doubt in his voice. 

"Kind of." The bedsheets rustle as she shrugs. "Nothing past a night at a hotel. And none of them good enough to bring home." There's a sour tone to her voice. 

"Wow, no pressure on me, then," Eddie jokes half-heartedly. 

"You already got further than any of them," Steph points out, nudging his legs with hers.

"You really gotta up your expectations," Eddie tells her, hand reaching out to find her hip. Her breath hitches as he pulls her closer. "I'll honorably take on any trial your cat guardians face me with. I will prevail and prove my worth."

"Mhm, we'll see."

"I hear doubt in your voice." 

"Noo, but I'd love to hear all about your trials in the morning."

"You'll get a whole ballad about my heroic victory."

"Oh, I'll finally hear you sing?" she teases, but her words are broken by a yawn. 

"Tomorrow." Eddie presses a kiss to her temple. "Goodnight."

"Can I be the little spoon?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

ko-fi | Steddie masterpost

@wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94 @tartarusknight  @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @estrellami-1 @disrespectedgoatman @madigoround @tartarusknight @blasvemous @cryptid-system @hiei-harringtonmunson @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere @dreamercec @manliest-of-muppets @bookbinderbitch @marklee-blackmore  @icecat @rootbeerandmusic @mollymawkwrites @milojames16 @ellietheasexylibrarian @sadiea20 @keaganz

[cybxrcvnt]

Eddie knows you’re the one the first time he lays eyes on you when his cat (who hates everyone but him [and occasionally also him]) comes up and snuggles you like this.

You’re laying on Eddie’s bed in his trailer reading a book, you’re on your side facing Eddie who sits on the other half of the bed. His cat (Dio) jumps up on the bed with a ~breeoow~. Dio slowly walks up to you, looking in your eyes for a moment, you drop the book slightly and hold it in your left hand that’s pressed against the bed, your other hand moves back and when the space is cleared Dio walks up and lays over your arm, purring loudly with his eyes closed. You give him slow belly rubs and pets over his face and drop your book. You look down at the kitty, over his soft brown and black fur, looking at his adorable little cat nose, feeling his little breaths under your right arm draped across him.

But Eddie, Eddie is staring at you in shock, jaw slightly slack and eyebrows vaguely raised. The longer he watches you pet his usually aggressive cat, the more his heart expands. The same cat that has left scars over Gareth and Jeff’s arms and hands, the same Gareth and Jeff who the cat has known since he was adopted. The same cat who has only known you for 3 weeks. The same cat who ‘ruined’ one of Eddie’s tattoos by leaving a white line down the centre of it.

It’s then that Eddie completely and whole heartedly confirms that you are the one for him. He grabs the Polaroid camera he keeps by the bed (for convenience…. Nothing else….) and snaps a photo, the loud click making the cat run away with another adorable meow.

You look up at Eddie like he had just murdered your child infront of you and instantly reach a hand out to slap him on the thigh, yelling an “Asshole!”. He just laughs and feigns pain on the area you slapped him. Though you can’t stay mad once the picture develops into the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

The photo finds home in Eddie’s wallet.

This is Dio btw: