#gareth emerson comfort

[bookshelf-dust]

I'M HERE TO REQUEST AGAIN

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

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

glittery curls

gareth emerson x gn!reader

word count: 1,426

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

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

————

“Bend down a little, Gare.”

“Whatever you say, your highness.”

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

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

“Kiss my ass, Emerson.”

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

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

Gareth “demands goodbye kisses” Emerson.

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

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

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

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

“That’s just sad, man.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now he’s not so sure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You ask, quickly becoming upset.

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

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

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

“Stop,” Gareth says.

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

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

“What?” You cut him off.

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

You stare up at him.

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

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

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

The boy in question smiles at you.

“You love me too?” He asks shyly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

————

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

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[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie Munson was having the kind of high where your hands were as floaty as your thoughts.

World tinged with a droopy-eyed vignette, he watched smoke loop lazily towards his window, twirling opaque in beams of light.

A knock sounded on his door, and Eddie simply stared at, unwilling to move.

His thick thoughts had him almost convinced he'd imagined it when it came again, a little louder and a touch more frantic.

'I should get up,' Eddie thought, with zero intention of following through.

The bed was too comfortable, his limbs velcroed in.

Someone started cursing, just barely heard through the thin trailer walls.

Eddie tracked it as it moved, circling around, a thread of concern wormed its way through the soft, engulfing fog.

It sharpened to a needle point when his window was thrust up with a bang. Seconds later a puff of hair climbed through, followed by broad shoulders and a build that could only belong to a grizzly--or Steve Harrington.

Grizzly Steve struggled trying to dodge all the shit flung around the room-unfamiliar with the path Eddie had taught himself and his bandmates.

He’d long found that a room covered in items made a pretty combination alarm system and booby trap, a fact he told Wayne repeatedly.

"Jesus I thought you were a bear." Eddie said jolting back in delayed action as Steve stood with a huff, hands on his hips.

"If you could answer your damn,--a bear?" Steve narrowed his eyes huffing dramatically. "You thought I was a bear!?"

Eddie managed to sit up on his elbows. "Sorry man. You were just kinda." He tilted his head. "Beary."

"Whaa-- tha' hell" Gareth announced his presence with a mutter, sitting up besides Eddie with his hair looking like an entire birds nest. It obscured his view, and he sleepily lifted a hand to comb through it.

It did absolutely nothing, as his curls immediately flopped back down into his eyes.

Steve froze.

"Ah." He said, looking between Eddie and the lump of blankets making up Gareth.

Steve's voice abruptly pitched itself adorably high. "Ahhh--"

The blush that spread across his face was an equal delight and Eddie knew it was a bad idea to drink it in, aim a dopey little grin Steve's way, but figured he could blame any backlash on the weed.

At least that's what said weed told him would work, and he was happy to comply.

"Harrington?" Blanket-Gareth asked, like he wasn't sure he was awake.

Which collected Eddie's wandering consciousness enough for a couple of cohesive thoughts. "Hey, mon cher," he hummed, rolling a hand out to Steve. "Bad night?"

"I--yeah, uh, no, I mean--shit. Sorry." He cast a panicked look towards the door. "I'll get out of your hair."

Eddie made a tutting noise. "After all the effort you just went through to get in here? Stick around, man. Take a load off."

He tossed him what he hoped was a confident, dazzling gleam and not something half psychotic.

It was always a 50/50 chance when you were that high.

"What is happening right now? Do you guys do this often?" Gareth was waking up at speeds entirely too fast for Eddie so he flapped his free hand at him, in what he hoped conveyed 'stop it you shit before Steve bolts like a deer.'

The younger man's eyes were certainly wide enough, his whole body tense. "I don't wanna disturb you guys. I um," Steve rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "--didn't know you had company, sorry Eddie."

Then, in a painfully awkward voice that made him want to take Steve and tuck him against his chest, added "Sorry Gareth."

"What are you apologizing to me for--oh my God do you think I'm boning this moron?" Gareth had finally shed the blankets, face shifting so quickly through emotions that Eddie couldn't help the giggle that escaped him.

"Be nice, Gary, god." He chided, through snickers, as if Gareth was teasing them and not asking a legitimate question. "Stevie, go grab that blunt I have on my dresser and come lay down."

"You are literally holding a lit blunt right now." Steve pointed out, cheeks fully inflamed with embarrassment and eyes stubbornly not looking at Gareth.

Who groaned and flopped face-first back down on the bed, apparently over this entire situation.

Eddie look down at his hand in mild surprise. "So I am!"

He put the blunt he found in-between his fingers to his lips, inhaling a lung full of smoke.

Held the blunt out, wiggling it at Steve when he just stood staring until Eddie exhaled.

Something in Steve's eyes changed, a glimpse of that painful, living wound of a secret he was hiding inside himself surfacing and Eddie automatically knew what caused it

"Gareth doesn't care that you're here, he's just not a morning person." Eddie explained gently, still holding out the joint.

Smiled encouragingly when Steve still looked unsure.

"Promise. You can chill here if you need too, Pop Culture. Neither of us will bite" Eddie made a come here gesture and was happy to watch as Steve hesitantly approached. "Well, at least we won't until you ask really nicely."

Then he winked because apparently shooting himself in the foot continued to be his default reaction to Steve Harrington.

Gareth said into his pillow; "No we fucking won't, you muppet."

It was muffled, so Eddie ignored it.

"If you're sure--" Steve muttered lowly, and they both ignored how clearly relieved he was.

Took the blunt with fingers that trembled ever so slightly.

Slowly, they passed the blunt back and forth a few times, Steve standing over Eddie.

Who enjoyed the way the younger man relaxed, inch by inch. Like the anxiety and stress was being exorcised out of him.

Couldn't see anything physically wrong for once, but knowing Steve Eddie wasn't at all positive he wasn't hiding some random, ridiculous wound on his torso somewhere.

Graciously, he gave Steve the last puff of the joint, waiting until Steve had stubbed it out and down in his ashtray before carefully touching his arm (above the wrist, with his hand clasping comically slow around his skin.)

Started tugging just as slowly when Steve figured out what he was doing.

Eddie grinned at the snort he got, as Steve gave in and reluctantly got into the bed, Eddie shoving Gareth practically into the wall to make room.

A loud, incomprehensible grumble erupted, but Gareth otherwise made no complaints as Steve tucked in.

The bed wasn't built for two people let alone three, meaning they all ended up practically on top of each other, but Eddie didn't mind.

Steve clearly didn't either, with how fast he dropped off to sleep, his body curling even further into Eddie's than it had before.

Best friend cuddling his back and Steve tucked against his front, Eddie happily nodded off, warm and content.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth #gareth emerson #gareth is eddie's robin #tw eddies high #fluff #hurt/comfort #0o0 fanfics #gareth is so done with their shit #whumpverse

[sundaynightlive]

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

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

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

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

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

If you’re staying, enjoy :)

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

He shouldn’t be surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie’s a different story.

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

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

What? He mouths.

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

And then he says—

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

What is happening?

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

“So?”

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

“Isn’t it fucking awesome?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s just fun to watch Mike squirm.

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

“Forgive me?”

Will shakes his head, still biting back that grin.

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

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

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

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

“Wheeler—get your bony ass in there.”

And that’s Gareth.

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

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

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

Will raises an eyebrow.

“I’m listening.”

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

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

Gareth must have read his mind.

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

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

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

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

This cannot be happening.

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

That’s a terrible idea.

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

“Fuck, I’m excited,” Gareth says.

“Me, too.”

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

-

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

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

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

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

That’s creepy, he scolds himself. Stop.

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

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

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

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

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

Gareth grins at him, shaking his head.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

He just needs a chance.

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

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

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

This is where he finds himself, now.

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

Maybe his trauma had rewired his brain for nonsensical poetry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Go red go red—

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

The rest is history.

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

They could never be replaced.

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

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

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

He wishes he had—that there had been warning.

“Sure.”

“So… after the earthquake—”

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

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

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

None of this has been any different.

“Will?”

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

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

“I just wanted—”

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

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

It had all been a lie.

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

That’s all he ever does.

“How could I—”

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

“Will—”

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

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

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

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

Heartbroken.

-

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

A breath of fresh night air, one might say.

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

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

“Sir yes sir!”

-

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

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

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

“Decent start,” Will says begrudgingly.

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

“Spit it out.”

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

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

God, it’s Gareth?

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

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

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

“Kiss me again.”

“Definitely.”

-

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

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

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

#will byers #greatwise #stranger things #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst #gareth emerson #gareth x will #fanfiction #fic #fic rec #ficlet #gertrude stein #emily dickinson #poetry #friends to lovers #lgbtq #gay

[kennahjune]

An Idea That’s Been Brewing Around My Head For A While Now

Stepbrothers Steve Harrington and Gareth Emerson. Steve’s mom finally realizing how much of a dick her husband is and finally divorcing him. Steve being very happy about it but also not knowing what to really do now because he was their main source of income.

Or maybe there’s some real shit there and Steve’s dad dies somehow. Maybe to something upside down related. Idk. Either way— Steve and Cynthia move to the trailer park because Richard is gone.

And Cynthia picks up a new job at the bank and meets Craig Emerson— Gareth’s dad. And they hit off really nicely and Steve is honestly just happy that his moms finally able to be happy again.

Gareth isn’t as open for a while but as he finally meet Cynthia he starts to warm up and is happy that his dads happy.

Until Cynthia and Craig get serious about each other and Steve and Gareth have to meet each other. Then it’s only a matter of minutes until they hate each other.

Well— Steve’s more than ok with Gareth. He’d seen him quite a few times over the summer whenever Eddie Munson would stop by Scoops. But Gareth has a problem with Steve from high school.

But obviously they end up warming up to each other in the end. And it’s a delight to Gareth to find out that Steve carts around 5 kids and keeps in touch with 2 others. He’s like the Ultimate Mom (TM) and Gareth finds absolute joy in teasing him.

And maybe Gareth is dragged into the Upside down with Steve and Eddie and we get a side of Steddie.

Idk. Steve and Gareth being related has me in a chokehold lol

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth emerson #steve harrington needs a better family #so I gave him one #in the form of a younger brother and a new dad #yes I killed richard #sorry not even remotely sorry #bitch had it coming #steddie thoughts #eventual steddie #probably gareth x jeff #or gareth x will #I’ve been seeing a lot of that recently #🤷 #hurt/comfort #i’m not good at angst so don’t judge me #steve harrington angst #also gareth emerson angst #cause he looks like he had mommy issues

[cielie-voss]

A will to live.

~Gareth x Henderson!Reader

Summary: the world's been crashing down on y/n Henderson again. Her brother was desperately looking for help from one of his sister's best friend, Gareth.

Warning: depression, self doubt, bad jokes, cringe pet names.

If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

Song mentioned is Metal Health (bang your head) by Quiet Riot. Absolutely recommend listening to that song.

Masterlist

Once again the world seemed to weigh me down. Sunken in a swamp, surrounded by negative thoughts, self doubt and hopelessness. My body felt empty, numb, but my head was buzzing with racing thoughts. So many and so fast, even if I tried to catch them, they slipped out of my hands like smoke and vanished.

I pushed the door open and as soon as it closed behind me with a click, a sigh left my body from deep down. My tensed shoulders relaxed and slumped down, my back pack glided to the ground. Plomp.

Lazy I kicked my shoes into the corner and threw my jacket on the hanger. Luckily it stuck to one of the hooks. Otherwise I could've prepared myself to be awfully bawled out by my mum.

"Hey, Y/N! You're pretty late! You hungry?" My brother's voice echoed from the kitchen but barely reached my ears as I instantly put on my headphones I dug out my bag.

"Okay?!" He mouthed as he watched me prowl into my room. With furrowed brows he followed me.

Mother says that I never never mind her, Got no brains I'm insane, Teacher says that I′m one big pain, Kevin's voice fought forcefully against the buzzing voices in my mind, overstimulated my brain, encapsulated myself from the world around me.

The door slammed shut behind me and before I could notice, my body plumped down on my bed and buried itself in the blankets and pillows.

"Dude, what happened at school?" Dustin hissed through the phone.

"I don't know, man. Only thing I know is, she and Eddie fought over some shit and Eddie left. Something about next Saturday." Gareth ran his hands through his stubborn hair, pacing back and forth after Dustin told him about his best friends not so well-being.

"Next Saturday?" Dustin repeated.

"Yeah, next Saturday. Why?"

Dustin rubbed his face, leaned back and peeked his head through the doorway, making sure my door was closed.

"Yeah, our mom's birthday." Dustin sighed. "Mom is kinda … putting her under pressure and mocking her because she is still single. No boy would like her and bla bla, you know? Y/N said she had a date for moms birthday. I suspected she was trying to prove herself to mom. Never thought she was going to ask Eddie. That would've scared the shit outta Mom, kinda revenge for the way Mom treated her."

"And Eddie didn't want to go.", Gareth added. "And with that he somewhat confirmed her concerns and self doubt."

"Does she even want me to come?" Gareth broke the silence.

"Y/N?" Dustin's voice shrilled through the hallway.

"No." I screeched back.

"Do you want Gareth to come over?"

"No!"

"Okay!" He turned back to the phone and whispered "God, please come over."

"Alright, I'll be there in a few minutes. Just gotta do the groceries first. Does she need anything?"

Carefully Dustin opened my door and stepped inside.

"He needs to go grocery shopping first, do you need something?" Dustin repeated Gareth’s question.

"A will to live.", I groaned before turning back into my fort of pillows, blankets and plushies.

"Okay, got it.", he said to Dustin through the phone and hung up. Dustin knelt down next to my bed, a worried expression on his face. "He'll be here in no time, promise.", he said and gently ruffled my hair before he left my room.

To silence the thoughts in my head and distract my busy mind I turned on the TV. With the sound of a random game show in the background, I crawled out of bed and started to do anything. Sorting my socks, carrying my stack of books from one place to another, cutting dried leaves from my plants, carrying the stack of books again across my room only to realize some moments later that they’re in my way again. Completely powerless I let my arms drop in defeat, realizing I’m in a never ending circle. A sigh escaped my lips and I simply sat down on my floor, overwhelmed by everything around me.

Without me noticing it, the doorbell rang and Dustin let Gareth in.

“Thank god.”, Dusting said, relieved to see his friend.

“Is she in her room?” My brother nodded and stepped aside to let Gareth past him.

As Gareth stepped into my room, he found me crouched down on the floor, the game show still playing in the background.

“Hey, Y/N/N.”, he sat down next to me, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Sadly they ran out of fresh will to live this morning, but I got something similar for you.”

His joke, even if unintended, brought a soft smile on my lips. He leaned to his side, digging in his bag. With curiosity glimmering in my wide eyes, I leaned forward, trying to see what he got there. But as I leaned forward he tried to cover his bag with his body, as if he didn’t want me to see what’s in there. I pressed my back against my bed again in defeat, waiting for him to show me what he got.

“Okay, so here we have some chocolate.” He placed the stack of different kinds of chocolate in front of me. Chocolate bars with nuts, with caramel, dried fruits, dark chocolate, with cookies. “And if that’s not the right will to live, I got some crackers too.” The pile of chocolate was upgraded by some packs of crackers. “And if that isn’t enough, I’ve got ice cream and sodas too. And some warheads.” He placed the rest on the mountain of wills to live and looked at me. “Wanna start with the ice cream?”

Baffled by the amount of sweets he got, it took me a second to nod.

“Yeah. Sure, ice cream is great.”, I stammered. “Let me get us some spoons.” As I got up to get the spoons, he got up too and arranged my pillows and blankets so that we could comfortably sit on my bed.

With two spoons in hand i got back to my room, Gareth already found his place on my bed, the pile of snacks and sodas carefully sorted in front of him.

“You want cookie dough or cherry garcia?” As I plumped down next to him, I grabbed the cherry garcia one and handed him his spoon. For some minutes we just sat there, eating our ice cream and looking at the TV from time to time when the music indicated something exciting would happen. I was halfway through my cup of ice as he carefully asked “You wanna talk?”

For a second I froze, sorting my mind, deciding where to start. “I don’t know.”, I declared hesitantly.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can simply sit here right next to you, you know?”

I let out a sigh, rubbed my feet nervously against each other like a cricket. “Lately it’s been simply too much for me.”

“What?”, he wanted to know, cocked his head and looked at me.

“I don’t know. Everything.”, I shrugged and looked at him. “Simply everything is too much. Waking up. Going to school. Talk to people. Hear them talking bullshit about me. About you and Eddie and Jeff and … I can’t stand this anymore. I don’t know. I’m just so overwhelmed by everything right now. I feel like no one likes me. Neither my friends, nor my family. You know what? Mom always tells me after I get something else but an A+ 'I guess your brother got all the good brain cells'. Like what mother says that? I’m scared of the future. Where will I end up? I don’t even know what I wanna do after school! Mom wants me to go study somewhere. But what if I don’t want to study? What if I just want to get a simple job? But what kind of job would I wanna do? I don’t know.” The more I let my thoughts out unfiltered, the more my eyes filled with tears. I sniffed as I continued.

“I know so much, but why do I don’t know what I want? I don’t even really know who I am anymore! And I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me but everything just doesn’t feel right and I have no idea how to change that!” I ran my fingers through my hair and wiped away the few tears that rolled down my cheek.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“Please don’t ever apologize for crying again, okay?” Gently he grabbed my chin and turned my face towards him. “And there is nothing, absolutely nothing wrong with you, not even close. It’s okay that you don’t know yet what you wanna do. There is so much time to figure it out, you know? You are a teenager, how are you supposed to know how you wanna spend the rest of your life?” He looked at me with his big round eyes, boring into my soul.

“Come here.” Gareth took my cup of ice cream and set it aside with his. Like a warm and soft blanket, he wrapped his arms around me, held me tight and gently stroked my hair. I melted into this embrace, my head pressed against his chest, my fingers clasped around the woolen fabric of his flannel. The steady pounding of his heart had a soothing impact on me. It’s hard to explain, but I kind of felt safe.

“You just have to test out what you think you would like to do, you know? And if you don’t like it, try something else until you find something you like.”

“You’re right. And I absolutely hate to admit that.”, I groaned, as I buried my face in his chest.

“I know.”, he laughed and gently squeezed me tighter.

"And we do like you. Very much to be honest. Sometimes even more than your little, idiot brother."

"Liar." I grumbled and buried my face deeper into his chest, inhaling his scent, feeling his heartbeat.

"I would be lying if I told you I don't like you the most out of all of us." His giggles were vibrating through his chest.

It took me a second to comprehend what he just said. But when I understood, a wave of a warm, unknown feeling washed over me. I tried to press my arms against him to push me away from him so I could look at him properly.

"Wait, what did you just say?"

Even though I tried to push me away with all my strength, his strong arms held me close to his body, squeezed me against him. "Oh, nothing. And now come here my little snuggle-puggle."

"Snuggle-puggle? Oh my god, now I know you're completely insane!" I laughed out, but hugged him tighter as the new feeling of warmth spread through my whole body, painting a soft smile around my lips.

xxx

Thank you for reading! 🫶 If you want to be tagged in coming fanfics or if you want to request something, feel free to send me a dm or an ask. 🥰 Likes, comments and especially reblogs are always welcome. 🤗

#stranger things #henderson!reader #alt!reader #gareth the great #gareth x you #gareth x reader #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #gareth x henderson!reader #gareth x alt!reader #gareth fluff #gareth comfort #stranger things x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #gareth x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fic #gareth fanfiction

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Half-formed ficlet idea: Gareth and El doing homework together (perhaps on a rainy Saturday morning, just like today). El is struggling and starts to spiral a bit, wishing she could just be “normal” and “not stupid”, and by the time Gareth looks up from whatever he was absorbed in she’s crying while unconsciously scratching at the tattoo on her wrist as if trying to scrape it off. He immediately grabs her hands in his, holding them against his chest, against his heart, not saying a word but simply letting her count each beat while she tries to catch her breath and calm down. He presses the gentlest of little kisses against her wrist. Then he picks up his pen and draws a heart around the tiny 011, and writes more numbers above it: 143. What does that mean, she asks him, and he answers, it means I love you. It’s the number of letters in each word. Numbers don’t always have to be a bad thing.

#greatmage #el hopper #gareth emerson #losty headcanons #deleted scene? #comfort #fluff #schmoopies #143 means i love you

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

so i was just thinking

doing a little bit of being dumb

what would r and Gareth's first real big fight look like? i feel like the fights over band practice and dnd are like baby fights, almost playful and they don't really matter... but i'm curious to see what the big ones about and how they both react

hope you have a great day!!! <3

i’m not a huge fan of angsty stuff but because he reminded me so much of my ex i got really into this 🫣 i’m gonna be honest i cried a little thinking about this cause this was the biggest argument me and my ex had but i know Gareth would react a lot differently than he did 😅

Fights with Gareth would be rare at best

He hates conflict with the people he cares about, so it isn’t often that you would have an argument

Most of the time it’s little playful arguments here and there but sometimes they escalate a bit more than he thought they would

It would be over small things like him being late a handful of times to important dates you had planned but it’s only ever gotten bad once and he’s never let it get that far again

He forgot your birthday

Completely on accident of course, he would never intentionally forget something like that

He had way too many things going on and it overwhelmed him so much it just slipped his mind

You’d call him once you knew he’d be home from work to ask if he was excited to see you next week and if he requested the few days off you told him about

And he would have no idea what you were talking about

You could hear that he was exhausted after his long day and that’s totally fine, he was allowed to be exhausted, but you were hoping that it was all just an act

But still, he’d ask why you needed him off those few days. What was so important that he needed to be off those days for?

And your heart would sink because you would know then that he was being honest

He completely forgot after you’d been telling him for weeks how excited you were to spend the day with him and your family and have fun together with everything you planned and he just forgot

He’d hear you start to tear up on the other end and immediately ask what was wrong or if he did something and all you had to do was mention that specific date and he’d suddenly realize what he’d done

He’d apologize over and over again for forgetting, saying that he didn’t mean to and that he had so much done up that it just completely slipped his mind but at that moment there wasn’t much he could to do make you feel better

You’d just tell him you’d talk to him later and hang up

For a few hours you’d be locked away in your room, trying to cheer yourself up with some of your favorite movies and other things to get your mind off of it but the tears just kept coming

Knowing that your boyfriend forgot your birthday would be so heartbreaking, especially after how many times you mentioned it to him

After a while you’d calm down and collect yourself, cleaning yourself up and realizing that though Gareth did have a lot on his plate it was no excuse to blow off something that important to you

And suddenly your doorbell would ring and when you went to answer it Gareth was there at your doorstep

You could tell he had been upset too but he had shown up with flowers and a little present for you and of course your favorite takeout place for dinner

He’d be apologizing still and he’d give you your flowers and say he feels so awful about forgetting and he just doesn’t want you to hate him because that’s the last thing he’d want

And you can see how horrible he feels about making you feel like that

Especially for making you cry

He would never forgive himself for something like that

You’d let him in and tell him you didn’t hate him, but you were upset and he would understand completely

He’d do anything to make you happy again

And that’s why he decided to give you anything and everything you asked for all the way until your birthday

He’d buy you anything you asked for, he’d be your chauffeur and drive you absolutely everywhere, he’d always be bringing you flowers and little gifts and it’s not like he didn’t do those things already but this time he’d go into high gear and be the best boyfriend he could be to you

And of course on your actual birthday he makes sure to make a giant deal about it

He gets to your house bright and early with all your presents

And his mom of course gave him a dish of cinnamon rolls and his sisters hand made you birthday cards because they wanted to make they got you something too

He’s got another bouquet of your favorite flowers for you and he’s not only ready to do every little thing your heart desires with you for your special day but he planned out a whole other list of things he wanted to do with you

And if you couldn’t fit them in that day then you’ll do it all the next day

He wants you to know that he would never do anything like that to you ever again

He loves you so much and knowing that he did something that made you cry made him never want to see you like that again

He will do anything and everything to keep you happy

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson headcanons #gareth emerson x reader #gareth stranger things #gareth hurt/comfort

[little-annie]

All I Want | Ch8

Steddie | Little_Annie | Ao3

Ch.7 ⤵️

---

Eddie's POV

There's skin on his, soft, warm, a palm on his cheek and heat searing into his flesh.

It feels like sunshine.

-

The sun's bright. Golden. Rays of liquid honey streaming through the dust of the air.

There's weight in his lap. Steady. Rocking. Grinding. His body sings with a warmth of euphoria and need, a flicker of fire in his veins and roll of ecstasy through his bones.

Breath beats like a symphony in his ear, rough, raspy. Beautiful. Akin to an orchestra by the stars. It sings so sweet and settles in his soul.

The air's bright with light when lips meet his own. Gasps falling on his tongue and breath flooding his lungs, he can feel the cling of a hand in his hair and nails on the skin of his back. Scraping, scratching, branding like a scar to his very being.

The moment's passionate, intimate. So much so that his nerves pulse with a flutter and a heat that rolls through his veins, settling like butterflies to the rear of his lungs. A flutter that feels like wings, from the very beings that spread beauty through the world. Bringing life to flowers, bright and beautiful with the help of the sun.

A nose brushing his own when lips part for a breath, there's a palm to his cheek, soft, warm, heat searing into flesh. There's words whispered into the heat of the air between them, "You're my everything, Eds."

It feels like something else, like three words left unspoken but known to be true. Three words left to settle along with that flutter in his chest.

The light's bright, gold and glowing, speckled like the stars in the sky when he pulls back and tries to get a glimpse of the man in front of him.

-

A shiver runs down his spine and there's a flash of white in his eyes before everything fades back to reality.

He's still there. Sat on the hood of Steve Harrington's BMW with the man's hand on his cheek and the sting of a cut on his brow.

The first thing he sees is the honey of Steve's eyes and the golden glow of his speckled skin.

There's an ache in his chest, a pull in his gut and an all encompassing want. It's painful. Dreadful and riddled with a piercing sense of longing. It's unbearable.

Burning like a brand on his cheek remains Steve's hand. Hot and searing. Iron melting flesh. The need that accompanies the action is too much.

Eddie grits his teeth and turns away.

It's too much.

It's too much even as Steve whispers his apologies, takes a step back and leaves Eddie with the urge to follow. To reach his hands out and pull Steve Harrington into his chest with a crash.

A crash that would without a doubt shatter Eddie. Pulling Steve's body into his fragile bones and pushing them to splinter with the force behind it.

It's inevitable that he'd come out of it broken. Shattered to pieces of rubble and debris. Turned to nothing but a pile of wreckage.

But he wants to reach out and risk the devastation. Take the chance, the absurd, miniscule possibility that things wouldn't burst into flames upon impact. That maybe they'd flourish. That maybe they'd burst into love and light and sunshine and give way for a beauty so rare that few find it.

But he can't.

So he doesn't.

Instead he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut until they hurt. Until all he can see are the flashes of stars against a dark shy. The vast blackness behind his eyelids shielding him from the absurdity of finding sunshine in one Steve Harrington.

Because that's all it is.

Absurd.

It's a thought that should have never had the grace to enter Eddie's mind and make a home in the cracks and crevices of his being. A thought that should have been eradicated upon first notice.

Because his want of Steve Harrington is absurd.

It's ridiculous.

It's laughable.

It's insane that even for a moment Eddie entertains it.

Because he shouldn't.

He fucking can't.

—

Steve's POV

They stand there in silence for a while. The rustle of the leaves and the quiet rasp of Eddie's breath the only sound to be heard. Steve still stings with the need and want to reach out and feel Eddie beneath his fingertips, to feel the warmth of pale skin and the scratch of stubble under his palm. But he resists.

Eddie keeps his eyes trained to the side as he whispers a 'thanks' and finds a bandaid to press to his own skin, stretching it over his brow and another over his cheek.

Against all instinct, Steve gives the man his space. Not giving into the deep seeded need to inspect Eddie's entire body for any unseen damage. He's sure it's there, it's blatantly obvious by the wince the man lets go as he slips from the car's hood to settle his feet on the ground. It's a hardly concealed thing when Eddie's knee buckles and he catches himself with a hand on the car.

Steve wants nothing more than to reach out and hold him.

But he can't.

He can't, so he distracts himself by putting the first aid kit back in the car, taking the time to suck in a grounding breath and count to three maybe a few more times than necessary.

It's only when he hears Eddie's voice that he's able to steel himself and move back to the front of the car, "I'm- uh, I'm gonna head back in… T-thanks again, for, you know, patching me up." He gestures with a ring clad hand to his face with a tight lipped smile and hunched anxious shoulders.

Looking at the man and the obvious exhaustion that's settled deep into his bones, Steve can't help but think that Eddie should go home. He should go home and lay in bed and let Steve take care of him. Let him hold an ice pack to his sore knee and let him kiss every bump, every bruise, every impending scar.

Steve shuffles uncomfortably, trying to meet Eddie's eye as he asks, "You sure you don't just wanna go home? I- I can drive you."

It's a dangerous thing to ask, mostly for the fact that Steve knows it'd hurt like hell to leave. To drive away and know Eddie's in the trailer alone, tending to his wounds without someone by his side.

Eddie shakes his head and Steve watches as a mask of nonchalance slips over his face. Once scared eyes shift to something indecipherable and finally meet Steve's, Eddie speaks, tone level and teasing, "I'll be fine Harrington. Plus, I wouldn't want to disappoint those kids of yours, now would I?"

There's something like a smirk teasing Eddie's broken lip when he turns around and heads for the school not bothering to wait for a response. Trying to disguise a limp and his anxiety that's so blatantly obvious to Steve, Eddie walks away, never once chancing a look back to the man following close behind.

Back inside, walking through the doors of the drama room, it falls silent. The chatter stops and the kids twist their heads around to look while Gareth stands with worry in his eyes as he takes in what he now knows to be an injured man before him, "Ed, man, you alright?"

Eddie continues into the room with a self-deprecating laugh, "I'll be fine Garbear. Just those fuckin' Bible Thumpin' Jocks again."

It's just an act, the humour, the carelessness, the way Eddie plasters on a smile like he hadn't just gotten the shit kicked out of him less than an hour ago. Steve wonders if anyone else notices. Notices the slightly too wide smile, the scared eyes, the way that fake grin slips the second Eddie's lips are out of sight. Notices the poorly constructed mask Eddie's been known to hide himself behind.

Gareth probably does. He's always been attentive like that and by the look of concern still creasing the man's face, Steve's sure he does.

Steve tries to not think too much about it as he settles in for the evening. Falling into the chair where he sat no less than a couple months ago, tucked away in the corner. He takes in his surroundings, the familiarity of it all. He thinks back to the first time he sat in this chair, how he was just as sceptical as anyone else, there purely for the fact to keep an eye on his kids.

He never expected to fall in love. Especially not with Eddie Munson of all people.

But he did.

He did and now he sits here watching Eddie introduce himself to the kids as if it's the first time, a genuine smile and bright eyes as he welcomes them to Hellfire with a flourish.

Gareth and the guys pretend to do the same, shaking Dustin's, Mike's and Lucas' hands, sharing smiles of their own.

Steve's thankful for them.

They weren't part of the fray lost to the vastness of Eddie's mind, but they were more than willing to help Steve and the kids reenter the man's life.

He'd grown fond of them in the last year and was glad to have them as support along the way for whatever was to come next.

Next being the very real possibility that things may never be the same as they were a couple months ago.

Next being the very real possibility that Eddie may never fully recover.

That Eddie, for all Steve knows, may never love him again.

Never hold him again.

Never call him Sweetheart or Love or Sunshine ever again.

Steve shudders a breath and tries to will away his spiral as shuffles in his chair, trying to find comfort in the loneliness he feels weighed down by. He wishes he could be sat next to Eddie. Sat next to the man he loves and longs for once again. Sat next to the man with a hand in his own and words of endearment whispered against the shell of his ear.

Watching the introductions and handshakes come to a close, Steve settles in for what feels to be a long night.

Shifting in his own chair Eddie twists with a wince to see Steve sat away from the group. His brows furrow and he looks like he's mulling something over before he speaks. Tone calm and maybe a little nervous, he invites Steve over with a crick of his neck, "Harrington, you patched me up man. I'm not gonna make you sit in the corner."

With a flutter in his chest Steve nods, flashes a tight lipped smile as pulls his chair closer to the group, choosing to sit between Dustin and Eddie.

He can allow himself this he thinks, being sat so close to the man he loves, relishing in the smell of Eddie's cologne, breathing it in like a drug, hoping it'll sustain him until the next time they see each other.

Struggling to keep his eyes elsewhere and not locked onto the man next to him, Steve snags Dustin's character sheet, the young boy squawking in protest. Holding the paper in his lap, pretending he understands anything that's written down, Steve skims the page. It's not a moment later that he feels Eddie's eyes on him.

"What?" He asks curiously, quietly, voice just above a whisper, looking to his right to find Eddie with his big beautiful eyes and rosy cheeks staring right at him.

Eddie coughs into his fist, ripping his gaze away from Steve and mutters a quiet, choked out, "Nothing."

On the other side of the table Steve watches as Eddie's friends whisper back and forth, Gareth suddenly jumping with a yelp as Eddie most likely kicks him in the shin with a hissed and not so quiet, "Shut. Up."

Their evening continues like so. Eddie's friends antagonising the poor guy over lord know what, the man himself sending Gareth what Steve knows to be a weightless death glare and the kids having the time of their life. It's in those moments that Steve watches Eddie's once plastered on and calculated grin turn into something unbridled and beautiful. Something he remembers falling in love with.

It's in those moments that Steve drinks in every ounce of Eddie Munson that he's allowed.

He thinks back to the start of everything. Their everything. To when he first brought the kids to Hellfire and sat in the corner for what felt like weeks, watching Eddie from afar, falling more and more in love with the man by the minute. The manic energy, the glimmer in his eye, the way he voiced every character and planned his campaigns out to a 'T'.

Those memories run like a reel through his mind as Eddie does much the same. Granted he's a little slower and wincing in pain every so often as he tries to act out the motions of a very boisterous bar keep that the adventurers have encountered, but he's still a beautiful thing to watch.

Again Steve finds his eyes tracing the figure before him. The animated movements, the way Eddie's lip twitches with a smile when he has something hidden up his sleeve. The rosy hue to his cheeks, the sharp look in his eye, the way, when Steve looks long enough those dark eyes meet his own.

He's sure he's staring, but at the moment he can't bring himself to care.

–

An hour and a burning vastness in his chest later, Steve watches as the guys pack up and Eddie has a quiet conversation with the kids at the door. Dustin's beaming, Lucas' eyes are wide and Mike has a greatly out of character grin spreading across his face.

Whatever it is that they're talking about, Steve's sure he'll hear about it on the way home.

It's nearly dark when they make it outside, the sky a wash of pinks and oranges, fading to black. The doors to the school crash against brick walls with a bang as Dustin flings them open with a flourish. There's chatter and laughter and Steve's heart soars with the familiarity of it all.

Through the chaos he can make out Eddie's laughter, the rasp and roll of his words as he struggles to sputter out something in reaction to whatever it was that Dustin's said.

Nostalgic is what comes to mind when warmth fills Steve's chest and he savours the sound as it meets his ears. He hasn't heard Eddie's laughter in over a month and the realisation of the fact is shattering in its own way.

Shattering much like the happiness in this moment that they've created when the sounds of a window breaking trickles into the air.

The group falls silent, halting in their tracks as they try to single out the source of the sound. Maybe it's the years of monster hunting, the trauma that it's caused, but Steve can see how the kids are on high alert, ready and waiting for the worst case scenario. Even if it was just a few weeks ago El confirmed that the Upside Down had essentially imploded, they're still on the ready for the 'what if'.

But the source proves itself soon enough as three silhouettes run out from behind Eddie's van and down the street to a parked sedan, jumping in with haste and squealing their tires on their abrupt getaway.

Anger fills his chest and he wishes he would have done something more than just stand there and watch. But maybe it was the relief that it was people and not monsters that left his feet rooted to the steps of Hawkins High.

But than a gutted whisper comes from behind him, a breathless, broken, "What the fuck?"

He turns to see Eddie, the joy that'd finally found its way to his face is gone and it's like he doesn't even have the energy to pull on a mask as he stands there in shock. Brows furrowed, eyes glassy, he doesn't move for a moment, not until Steve watches Gareth clasp his shoulder and offer a comforting squeeze.

It's a slow, cautious thing from there, Eddie making his way to the van, Gareth and the guys in tow as Steve tells the kids to get in the car with a hardly audible hiss.

The kids are quiet, concerned and the look on Dustin's face nearly breaks his heart. Steve ruffles the kid's hair, trying to offer some reassurance before he ducks into the car and Steve finds himself moving to join the four that now stand with shattered glass at their feet next to Eddie's van.

Eddie's still speechless, it's a stark comparison to how Steve knows him normally to be. Though that's not to say he hasn't seen the man in silence before; contemplative, considering, content. But Steve's never seen this. The devastation, the exhaustion. The way Eddie begins to shake and he brings clenched fists to wrap around his waist while still remaining silent.

Steve wants to say something, wants to reach out and take those tightly clasped hands in his own and soothe. He wants to be the voice of reason and reassurance. But he can't.

He can't so he looks to Gareth with pleading eyes for him to do something, say something.

The man shares a glance and Steve watches as Gareth's hand tightens on Eddie's shoulder and the eldest man chokes out a whisper of, "Gar I - I can't afford this."

In the meantime the other guys are silent, surveying the wreckage before them and slowly beginning to wander with cautious steps over broken glass and what Steve can see to be a can of spray paint on the other side of the van.

He bristles at the sight and hopes to anyone that's listening that Eddie doesn't round the driver's side to see the remaining damage. It's obvious by the look on Jeff's face that it isn't anything good.

The younger man who he's only grown to know in the last year moves to stand at his side. Eyeing Eddie to ensure he doesn't overhear, Jeff leans nearer and whispers, "Both driver side tires are slashed and they spray painted 'Murderer' across the whole side."

Steve's stomach plummets but all he's able to offer in response is a nod.

The guys don't know about all the shit that went down, but Steve knows they believed Eddie's innocence from the beginning. They're good guys and great friends to Eddie and even after profusely apologising for being a prick all throughout high-school, Steve still feels guilty when in their presence. Even after Eddie lost his memory, they still treated Steve as one of their own. Maybe they didn't check on him in the last weeks, but from Wayne, he knows they've at least asked about him. Offered their help.

Plus, he's sure at the very least that Gareth has an inkling as to what he and Eddie have been up to in the last year. He's never said anything, but Steve's sure the man knows something, if the sideways glances, eye rolls and teasing smiles are anything to go by.

After a moment Steve finally speaks, "Just, uh, don't let him see it okay?"

Jeff offers a tight lipped grimace, shares a sad glance and nods to where Eddie and Gareth are standing a few feet in front of them, "You able to take him home? I would man, but I've got the other two plus a shit ton of band gear." There's a quiet self deprecating laugh before he adds, "We hardly fit Gareth in the back."

"Y- yeah. Not a problem. I'll uh, I'll just go let the kids know."

Jeff's nods and makes his way to the guys at the same time Steve's turns to go back to the car. He can see the concern on their faces as he approaches. Upon opening the door and bending to cock his head into the cab, he's met with Dustin's immediate inquiry, "What happened?"

He contemplates lying, telling them it's nothing, but these kids have seen enough shit, something like this won't bother them too much. It's just unfortunate. "I think the same guys who beat him up trashed the van too. Broken windows, slashed tires, Jeff said there's some spray paint on the other side." He doesn't know what else to say for a moment, not until Lucas speaks up, asking, "There anything we can do to help?"

To that Steve nods, asks them to cram into the back and lets them know that they're taking Eddie home. Normally asking Dustin to vacate the passenger seat would be a fight, but he goes willingly, though be it scrambling over the seat instead of using the door.

Making his way towards the four standing near the van, Steve watches Jeff lean in and speak to Eddie, the older man looking to his friend with a confused expression and furrowed brows, but as Jeff nods and cricks his head in Steve's direction, he can't help the swell of warmth in his chest seeing the look in Eddie's eyes. There's confusion, but there's warmth and something he's yet to decipher.

"You sure Harrington?" Eddie asks, sounding just a touch breathless and all the bit exhausted.

Steve nods, looks towards the car where the kids seem to be arguing in the back seat, pushing and shoving when he's sure he hears Dustin yelp.

"Yeah Munson. Now get in before Dustin decides to commandeer the front seat and you're stuck in the back with those two."

—

They're about a mile down the road and Eddie hasn't moved an inch from where he settled with his head against the glass and his shoulders curled inward, arms wrapped around his waist, hiding his face behind a veil of dark curls.

The kids are quiet, uncharacteristically so, reduced to whispers and shared glances. Many times through the rearview mirror does Steve catch their concerned expressions sent in Eddie's direction, especially so when they quietly vacate the vehicle one by one.

Once the kids are gone and the car's even further filled with uncomfortable silence, Steve regrets his earlier decision to not bother putting in a tape when they left the school. The silence and the faint, occasional sniffle from Eddie's side of the vehicle is too much. He wants nothing more than to reach out, lay his palm on Eddie's thigh and squeeze. Just something simple, let him know that he's there if he needs him. But he can't.

He can't, so he does something that he knows at the very least will distract Eddie. Keeping his eyes on the road, Steve blindly digs through the centre console, eventually coming out with a tape in hand. With little struggle he ejects what was in the player, not bothering to look at it as he pops in his 'Tears For Fears' cassette.

Thirty seconds into the first song and Steve hears a snort come from the other man. He can't help the warmth that fills his chest at the sound.

"'Course you listen to Tears For Fears." Eddie huffs to the glass of the window, his smirk left visible through the reflection looking back at him.

Steve smiles to himself, feeling warmth in his chest, knowing at least in this moment he's making Eddie feel something other than dread.

The first song plays through and when the cassette reaches 'Head Over Heels,' Steve can't help but snicker, "Guess I'm Head Over Heels for Tears For Fears."

Eddie snorts a laugh and sits up enough to lull his head to the side to face Steve. His cheeks are rosy and his eyes are rimmed red but Steve can't help but think he's still beautiful.

They're silent for a while, a few more songs playing through while Steve obnoxiously taps his fingers to the beat trying to pull another smile out of Eddie. He's successful after a moment and it's then that Steve builds the confidence to finally ask what's been wearing on him since earlier in the evening, "Hey, um, back at the school you'd said something about 'it's just the Bible Thumping Jocks again'."

Eddie's eyes search the side of Steve's face for a moment, he can feel them settle as he continues to drive and Eddie asks cautiously, "What about it Harrington?"

"This happen to you a lot?"

There's a contemplative hum from the passenger seat and in the same instant the tape turns to silence, Eddie answers, "Nothing like the van, but yeah. Getting the shit beat out of me is a pretty regular occurrence."

Steve hums in response, it's nothing he doesn't know, when he and Eddie were together he'd been told as much, but still, he can't help but ask, "Lately?"

While Eddie worries his cheek and he chances another look at Steve, gravel begins to crunch under the tires as they turn into the trailer park. It's only when they're pulling up to the Munson home that Eddie answers, something hesitant in his tone, "Been worse since I got out of the hospital."

Steve nods, slowing the car to a stop and throwing it in park before he responds with a faint, "Sorry."

Sitting in front of the Munson trailer with Eddie quiet and at his side, Steve tries his hardest to not let his emotions get the best of him. He tries to not think of the hundreds of times he's been here before. Not the date's, not the kisses shared on the roof in the dead of night, not the times they danced in the kitchen or the umpteen unfortunate occurrences when they got caught on the couch doing the one thing Wayne explicitly asked them not to.

He tries to not think about any of it.

Especially when his chest begins to tighten and he can feel tears beginning to well.

He'd unlocked the door when they pulled up, half expecting Eddie to run for the hills upon the vehicle coming to a stop, but the man stays sat in his passenger seat, looking back at him with something akin to concern in his eyes.

And Steve can't fucking take it. He grits his teeth and tries to reign in his composure, but it damn near crumbles when Eddie so sweetly asks him what's wrong and he has to feign something that's not devastation when he answers, "Nothing ya need t' worry about Munson."

---

Ao3 link ⤵️

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fandom #stranger things fic rec #steddie #steddie fanfiction #steddie fandom #steddie fic rec #steddie fic #steddie fic wip #steddie after vecna #steddie angst #steddie hurt/comfort #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #welcome to hellfire #hellfire club #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #freak stranger things #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair

[resident-gay-bitch]

My Starboy

summary: Gareth loves Eddie. Always has, and always will. But, his best friend likes girls, and Gareth is content with that… sorta, well, until Chrissy Cunningham comes along and Gareth has to hear all about how great and perfect she is. And everything begins to slowly fall apart, piece by piece… and then it implodes.

- this fic follows the point of view of gareth, primarily, however, deeper into the fic, a select few chapters are from eddie’s point of view.

warnings: mature, swearing, cigarettes, weed, alcohol, graphic conversations about sex, mentions of past underage drinking/drugs/sex?, depression, self deprecation, suicidal themes, a secondary character attempts suicide, blood, alcoholism, mentions of domestic abuse, i don’t know if that’s everything.

16 parts, 46.1 k words

you can find this fic here \/\/\/

ao3:

wattpad: (i like the commenting system, okay?)

you can also find the link to the playlist i curated for this fic, here:

playlist is all period accurate. it’s made up with songs that make a feature in this fic, primarily songs that suit the theme of these two idiots, as well as songs that make me feel gareths angst on a whole other level. all metal and old rock - besides the one beatles song that makes a feature

if you would like to read more fics by me, you can find them all here :)

#jay writes #my starboy #gareth emerson #eddie munson #gareth x eddie #hurt / comfort #slowburn #bestfriends to lovers #childhood best friends trope #eddie x gareth #geddie #chrissy cunningham #chrissy x eddie #jason carver #origional character #lily #gareths mum #wayne munson #eddie & gareth #internalised homophobia #i didn't know until i found you #unrequited love trope #requited love #queer #gay gareth #queer eddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #hellfire #corroded coffin

[tw-inkl-e-tit-s]

Masterlist

Started 09/18/2022

Requests: Open

The Black Phone

Here

Stranger Things

Here

Shameless

Work In Progress

Music Artist

Here

Actors

Here

Youtubers

Work In Progress

More Coming Soon!

#master list #stranger things 4 #stranger things #tag list #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie x reader #eddie munson comfort #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x reader #gareth emerson #eddie imagine #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson fluff #gareth emerson smut #gareth emerson x reader #gareth the great #gareth x reader #stranger things4 #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x plus sized reader #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #vance hopper x reader #robin arellano x reader

[darkyuffie-blog]

You Can Do Better

A Stranger Things ONE SHOT

CW: Mentions of being cheated on. Breakup talk. Brief name calling by the ex towards Tessa. Very mild violence. Brief mention of Alcohol.

As Tessa ran out of the doors of the hideout, fall breeze catching her red hair as she ran, she could only think of Her no ex boyfriend's cruel words ringing in her head. "Been cheating on you for a while babe, think it's time I break this...whatever it has been for the past year off with you. I wanna be with Tina way more than I ever have you." SMACK! she had slapped Andy so hard it left a bright red handprint. Tina went to hit Tessa but with a quick right fist jab to her jaw she hit the floor, Andy yelling out "You stupid bitch! You're sucha sore loser Tess!" and Tessa hit the door running out as fast as her legs would carry her. She slipped into an Ally a block from the Hideout and slid down the wall with her knees pulled to her chest as she finally allowed herself to cry. She felt so humiliated. He did that in front of all of his friends and some of hers to.

~~~~~~~

Corroded Coffin had just finished their set and the guys were all at the bar drinking their free beers. He heard Andy talking back behind him turning around just in time to hear the loud SMACK ring out and a moment later watched Tess slam her fist straight into Tina's smug jaw before she ran out. Eddie, Jeff, and Grant watched it all go down as well. "Fuck Lady Tessara has one hell of a right hook huh. Tina's gonna feel that shit for a week at least." Eddie said from behind Gareth. Gare stood up and took off without a word after Tessa, shooting daggers at Andy who picked up Tina from the floor. She deserved that right hook for whatever had made Tess go off like that. She was usually calmer and more collected unless it came to one of the Hellfire Club getting bullied.

He saw her silhouette down a block disappear into an ally It was dark so he couldn't see her but he knew she was there. He always seemed to know where she was. They had been friends for so long it was like they had an ethereal chain that tethered them to one another. The other always seemed to know when they were having a bad day or if the other was angry. He sighed and called to her as he stepped into the darkness of the Ally. "Tess! Tess come on talk to me I know you're down here sweets..." He took another step forward, waiting for her to respond. She didn't need to be alone right now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She heard footsteps nearing the Ally and knew who it was. She heard him turn into it and his voice called to her. She lifted her head when he called her sweets, the nickname he had been calling her since they were twelve. "G...Gare? I'm h...here... by the fence." She heard him walk to her and he sat down beside her. "You wanna tell me what the fuck just happened in there with ass wagon and Tina, Sweets?" She sniffled and looked up at Gareth. It was dark but she knew he looked back at her. The moon giving just enough light to see the shine of his eyes. "Andy... Andy broke up with me and told me he has been fucking Tina for three months..." She sniffled again and more tears fell. Gareth wrapped an arm over her shoulder pulling her against his side lovingly. He hated to see her this way. He loved Tess so much and every time a guy broke her heart, he wanted to break their fucking faces in. "Hey, shh shh, It's okay sweets. I know you were dating a whole year but listen to me. He was a dick Tess. He hated all your friends. He told people you guys fucked even though I know you didn't do more than hand stuff cause you told me so and I know you never fuckin lie t'me. He never tried to be interested in the things you adore. He wouldn't even take you to the dance two months ago and then had the BALLS to get jealous when I took you instead because you didn't deserve to miss it when I know how bad you wanted to go... You had more fun that night than you had the entire year you've been with him sweets... You... You deserve so much better than ANDY." He huffed and kissed her forehead gently.

She giggled a little between sniffles. "Jeez Gare. You're so passionate when you get angry. It's...kinda cute." She smiled up at him the tears finally stopped. It was just her and her favorite person. Everything else in the world didn't even matter now. She reached up intertwining her fingers with the hand that was draped over her shoulder and pressed her cheek against his chest. Calming herself by listening to his breathing and heartbeat. She felt so warm being here like this with him.

"Hey...Remember who you are sweets. You are TESSARA of the light of Eldath. Cleric and Light of Hellfire! In our darkest moments you are there to close our wounds and keep us fighting, and when you need us we are there to lift you back up onto your feet. We have fought through Vecna's army, hoards of orcs, vampires, goblins, kobolds, mind flayers, demogorgons, and even a DRAGON together and when we thought we were surely going to perish you brought us back from the brinks of death. Lady Tessara the brightest light of all of Eldath's chosen." He grinned and kissed her cheek.

"Yeah....you're right! All be damned if I am gonna let some NPCs like Andy and fucking Tina take me down. Hehe I floored her ass with one hit, shows how weak she is huh Gareth the Great?" She giggled and nuzzled her face against his chest with a smile, breathing in his scent. He always smelled like pine needles, rain, and cedar. At least to her anyway and it was a smell she adored. One day she was going to confess her feelings to him but right now, right now she just wanted to stay in this sweet moment with him.

(thanks for reading loves!)

#gareth emerson #stranger things #gareth x oc #fluff #comfort

[bookshelf-dust]

“the period lessons.”

gareth emerson x fem!reader

word count: 1,657

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, back/abdominal pain, other period symptoms, mentions of female anatomy; gareth is ever the empath and sweetheart

a/n: apparently i’ve got a new obsession and that’s the nickname “sugar.” so get used to it, because i’m gonna sneak it in every chance i get, i swear. i apologize if it’s chaotic as i did write the majority of this on my period and there were a lot of things happening. i hope you like it!! <333

————

He was meant to come over today. You’d given him the okay when he called a few nights ago, your voice sweet with the prospect of seeing him.

“You’re sure it’s okay, sugar?”

“I’m sure, Gare. I miss you.”

But you hadn’t planned on your period arriving a few days early, setting you up nicely with debilitating cramps and back pain, the double-sided ache making the bed call your name.

You should’ve expected it, really, what with all the stress you’d been under lately—the semester rounding out, papers due and piling up. But, here you were.

You stood in front of the linen closet, eyes scanning for the familiar pale cover of the heating pad. Finding purchase, you snatched it out, untangling the cord as you walked down the hall.

Crouching, you fumbled with the outlet near your bed, scrambling to plug the device in, your back now throbbing, pain shooting out in waves and your palm doing nothing to soothe it.

Too lazy to take any medicine that could help, and—let’s face it—wanting to prove to yourself that you could take the pain, you splayed out in bed, tucking the warming pad between you and the mattress, wincing at the stabbing in your abdomen.

You glanced at the calendar hanging on your wall, that being enough to bring you out of your stupor and remember that Gareth was probably on his way over, angry at yourself for forgetting in the midst of pre-treating your blood stained underwear.

Gareth, on the other hand, had been practically giddy to see you all weekend. He’d gone to Family Video and picked up a couple movies you wanted to see. He didn’t want anything else than to just sit with you for a while. Sit with his pretty baby.

He pulled up outside your house, but he started to worry when he got out, noticing you hadn’t bounded out to meet him. Like you always did. He’d grown used to you waiting by the window for his car to appear, hopping down the stairs and slamming yourself into him. But you weren’t there.

Maybe you’d been in the bathroom, he thought. Maybe you’re just busy. But it was so unlike you. He couldn’t help the chill that spread through his body, and it wasn’t just because it was below freezing in Hawkins.

Gareth let himself in, making his way to your room. He knocked on the door frame before peeking in. “Sugar? You in here?”

His blue eyes found yours where you lay on your side, arm over your stomach to keep the heating pad exactly where you wanted it, knees pulled up almost to your chest. You sat up, wincing at the stab of pain in your pelvis.

“Gare.” You held your arms out and he came to you, dropping the movies on your side table.

“What’s the matter baby?” He asked, brushing your hair out of the way and rubbing at the sheet marks on your cheek. “You didn’t come out to see me.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I got my period yesterday and the second day’s always the worst and it hurts and I kinda forgot you were coming because there’s been so much blood and I just got frazzled an—”

“Hey, shh. It’s okay!” He grinned at you, smile lines forming on either side of his mouth. “I’m not upset. I understand.”

He really did. Gareth had three women in his life: his mother and two sisters. When his sisters got old enough that they needed to prepare for periods that might start at any point, his mom made Gareth sit in on what she called “the period lessons.”

His mom didn’t want him to think it was something bad or something to be scared of, and especially not something he shouldn’t know about because he was a boy.

So, Gareth learned what a period was, why they happen, what to do when they happen, and all about female anatomy. And since then he’d gone on many a supply run, memorizing what kind and size of everything his sisters needed when they were low.

You telling him this didn’t bother him in the slightest, and he told you as much. You were pleased that he’d had a good education and hoped you’d remember to thank his mom later.

“Is it really bad this time around?” He sat on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs while he let you play with his hair considering that seemed to calm you down.

“Yeah. They get worse when I’m stressed.” He nodded, following along. “Heavier. My cramps get worse. But my back is always the worst part. S’ killin’ me, Gare.”

His hands moved to the bottom of your spine almost on instinct, trying to rub the pain away. “What can I do for you? To help?”

“Nothing, really. Being here is enough.” The small grin you offered made Gareth’s heart sting. Your eyes found the tapes on the table. “What’d you bring?”

He pulled away from you. “Oh. Found some movies you talked about. Thought maybe we could watch them.”

You could feel your mood change, like a wave crashing over your mind. “Oh no, Gareth, does this ruin your plans? Did I mess something up? I didn’t ask the other night what you wanted to do this weekend.”

Gareth laughed softly, and your brow furrowed at the reaction. He reached up, thumb smoothing out the line in your skin.

“Your vagina is bleeding out, your body is punishing you for not getting pregnant, and you’re worried about what I wanted to do this weekend? You’re such a dumbass.”

“Wow, thanks sweetheart.” That only made him laugh harder before he scooped you up in his arms, flopping down on your bed and taking you with him.

He looked down at where your stomach touched his. “You’re hot.”

“No, you.”

“Oh, fuck off. You have the heating pad out or something?”

“Yeah, was alternating between my back and my tummy.” You looked up, met with blue eyes boring into yours, catching you off guard.

“What?” You brushed a curl out of his eye.

Gareth was scanning your face, noticing how tired you looked, catching how you’d wince every few minutes at something hurting you. He hated that you were in pain. “Sorry for tackling you. You want the pad back?”

You clocked the change in his demeanor quickly, that becoming increasingly easy these days. “What’s wrong, Gare? You don’t have to apologize for playing around with me.”

“Nothing, I just don’t like that you’re in pain. And you were probably comfy and I tossed you about. Is there something I can do for you, baby? Sorry, I just really hate that you’re hurting.”

You were kind of shocked at the admission, not because of his saying it, you’d expect nothing less from Gareth, but because no one had ever cared about your period pains that much. It was just something you got over.

You thought for a moment. “We could watch a movie and you could lay with me, and you could rub my tummy while the heating pad is on my back.” You grinned at him, liking your own idea very much.

“Sure thing, sugar. Whatever you want.”

You settled next to him on the bed, covered in blankets, the warmth helping your back. Gareth’s hand was under the hem of your shirt, rubbing at the pudge of your belly over where you’d told him it hurt, callouses comforting you by the minute.

He’d put in Back to The Future, since you’d both seen it numerous times, and that way you could talk to each other if you wanted without missing anything important. You’d save the new movies for later.

“What does it feel like? Your period. Like the blood and stuff, but also the pain I guess?” You shifted to look at him.

“Hm. Most of the time it’s not like I can actively feel the bleeding, I just know it’s happening. But sometimes when I move, or sneeze, or laugh even, I can feel a gush of blood. It’s rather unpleasant.” He wrinkled his nose, mirroring yours as you recounted the feeling.

“The back pain is just a really bad ache. But it, like, radiates? It’s all over the bottom of my back and it doesn’t pass like cramps. It just keeps on. That on top of stomach pain is fucking ass, Gare.”

He smiled at your comment, feeling shitty knowing you had to go through this and men got to just brush it off or act like it was this nasty thing.

“That sounds horrific.”

You laughed softly at him, and the sound made his stomach flip. It never failed to.

“It is. And I get really, really sad and frustrated easily. So I’m glad you’re here. I haven’t had someone to love on when I get overwhelmed before.”

You cuddled deeper into his side, slipping your hand under his shirt to rub the squish of his tummy. Your fingers ran over his happy trail, and you felt him shiver.

“Well I’m up for being loved on.” He tapped your cheekbone, signaling for you to look at him.

When you did, he leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your lips. “Did you have a sucker earlier? Taste like strawberry.”

“I did. The girls got them for a sleepover but they saved me some. I was told, ‘Give these to your pretty girlfriend. We like her more than you.’ So naturally I took some and brought others to share.”

You laughed at him and snuck your hand up further on his tummy. Gareth’s hand found your back, securing the heating pad against it for you.

You leaned up and kissed him again, eliciting a content hum from the boy. A little while later you heard him mumble, “Doc, are you tellin’ me you build a time machine out of a DeLorean?”

————

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

#gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #gareth the great #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x you #gareth emerson fic #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth emerson x gn!reader #corroded coffin #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson comfort #savannah’s fics

[sp0o0kylights]

As always if you just wanna read the A03 for the reverse Steve + The Party Adopts Hellfire During a Monster Crisis fic, here's the link!

Added bonus it has some KICKASS art to go with it!

Summary:

Eddie doesn't know what's going to kill him first: a military invasion, evil demon flower dogs, or Steve Harrington's painted on jeans.

Either way, his faked heterosexuality isn’t making it out alive.

OR: Eddie Munson has a very bad, no good, terrible day trying to survive in the dead Chief of Police’s abandoned cabin with the Hellfire Club, The Party, and Steve “Most Slappable Ass” Harrington.

#steddie #pre steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #gareth emerson #Steve + the Party Adopt Hellfire #hurt/comfort #everyone lives nobody dies #Eddie's child wrangling slash hair slash humor is doing Steve in #While Eddie meanwhile is trying and failing to put the straightest act of his life #while trapped in a cabin #with Steve #six kids #and his best buds lol #Jeff thinks hes helping

[dylanwritesgood]

All your faith, all your rage | Chapter 8

masterlist | ko-fi | ask

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine

Summary: Gareth is relearning how to deal with high school after sudden hearing loss, and Eddie sees in him another little sheepie to rescue. Set before ST4.

Pairings: Eddie Munson & Gareth Emerson, Hellfire Club, Corroded Coffin, Gareth x Chance (one-sided)

Word count: 3,971

Warnings: internalized homophobia, extreme bullying, 80s psychiatry and autism, pathologization of neurodivergence, period-typical homophobia, hurt/comfort, autistic and deaf character written by an autistic and deaf author

Read on Ao3

A/N: Things are still rough, but there's some bright spots, too.<3 Pay attention to the warnings, and if you don't want to read the rough stuff, dm/ask me for a tl;dr okay?

Taglist (message me to be added):

@andyquinn21

Things get worse before they get better. No one outright fucks with Gareth in the halls because Eddie follows him around the school like a guard dog, standing watch when Gareth opens his locker or has to take a piss or do anything where someone might take advantage of his vulnerability. Gareth’s temper burns short for everything else, because he’s pouring all his patience into waiting out the torment without rising to the bait. But someone carves that fucking word into the door of his locker and the laughter when he finds it is like nails on a chalkboard. 

Now everyone knows, and the notes come every class. He doesn’t unfold any of them, just stuffs them in a pocket and adds them to the shoebox under his bed when he gets home. He knows what they all say, knows they’re all true, because he can’t make himself feel anything for a girl besides envy when Chance starts taking Monique Engels out.

At some point, Gareth stops talking. Eddie isn’t sure when it happened, looking back, he just realized that he hadn’t heard Gareth’s voice in a while. He’d never been particularly chatty, but he’d usually had something to say. Eddie didn’t notice Gareth folding in on himself, because physically, he kept showing up to Hellfire sessions and band practices and hangouts, but at some point, Eddie realized that Gareth might as well not have been there. He was just a ghost, moving through his routine like he was on a track, but never interacting with anything. It terrified Eddie.

He knew what depression looks like. He has been there enough times. The happy-go-lucky cult leader act was just that—an act. He pulled on that mask so his friends didn’t know how much he struggled sometimes. So to see it on one of his best friends? That hurt. So Eddie went behind Gareth’s back and called his mom. Gareth could hate Eddie all he wanted later, just as long as he was alive.

They get him help. Jan pulls Gareth from school one day and they drive the hour over to the city where Gareth’s audiologist is, and they see a psychiatrist. Gareth fills out sheet after sheet of questionnaires, nervous despite being told there wasn’t a wrong answer and he needed to be truthful instead of worrying what someone might think. The psychiatrist spends an hour interviewing Janet and asking questions about Gareth’s growth and behaviors when he was too young for him to remember. 

Gareth and his mom go out for lunch while Gareth’s assessments (they’re not tests, they’re just assessments, he’s told) are being analyzed. When they get back, it’s Gareth’s turn to get grilled about his life and his thoughts while his mom waits in the waiting room. It’s quiet in the psychiatrist’s office and she speaks carefully to him and he keeps up well with his hearing aids.

He’s very careful not to mention a gender when the doctor asks if he has any romantic interests, and to explain, if he’s had any interactions with them, how that went. Not great, is the answer he can come up with. He doesn’t know how to explain what happened without outing himself, and what that book said about autistic people and homosexuality is still haunting him.

He does admit that he gets called slurs at school. That seems innocuous enough. Teens are cruel and just because he’s called that doesn’t mean he is that. The psychiatrist takes interest in that, carefully taking notes and nodding encouragingly as Gareth hesitantly explains that he… bumped into… another guy at a party and that’s when the deluge of harassment started, and yeah, it’s starting to get to him because it’s not like he did anything to deserve to be called that. He didn’t kiss the star quarterback of the school football team under the bleachers after practice like that other kid did. 

“Do you think he deserved what happened to him for just kissing someone?” She asks, leaning forward in her seat and setting her notepad aside.

“Everyone knows you don’t do that,” is the best answer Gareth can come up with.

“If it was you, would you think you deserved what happened to him?”

Gareth shifts uncomfortably. Yeah. Yeah, he does think it’s exactly what he’d have deserved if it was him, because it’s wrong. He knows it’s wrong, he doesn’t need to be trained like a dog, swatted with a rolled newspaper, because he already knows it’s wrong. If you do something wrong, you get punished. But he didn’t do anything wrong, so he doesn’t deserve to be punished. He doesn’t say any of that though. Instead, he says, 

“I guess not.”

She picks up her notepad again and takes a moment to review the page. She isn’t looking at Gareth when she says,

“Y’know, we still haven’t figured out what causes people to be gay. Some psychologists theorize some people are just born that way, like some people have red hair or are left-handed. It’s not common, but it’s just a genetic variation, they say. Isn’t that interesting?”

“Yeah, well, they used to beat left-handed kids into being normal,” Gareth mutters, and the psychiatrist looks at him over her glasses.

“You ever think there might be a reason people don’t do that anymore?”

Gareth hadn’t thought about it. Things were quiet for a moment as she looked through her notes. He breaks the silence.

“So if people are born gay… it’s like people being born autistic, right? Like… there’s still something wrong with m—them, even if they’ve always been that way.”

She doesn’t miss his near slip. “Do you think you’re autistic, Gareth?”

He wets his lips with his tongue and takes a deep breath. “My friend, Kim, she’s going to college to be a therapist and she sent me a book because she thought I should read it—Autism in Adolescents and Adults. I… do a lot of the things it talked about. That’s… that’s what you’re testing me for, right?”

“Rough read,” she hums, “Impressive you got through it.”

“You’ve read it?” He asks, hopeful. She points to her bookshelf and he spots the familiar spine amongst the other books on the shelf.

“I don’t agree with all of it, but I’ve read it.”

She can see his blue eyes are guarded. He wants to trust her, but he doesn’t, yet, so she pushes on, “I don’t think autistic adults can’t live on their own, or that they’re some big moral conundrum. I think we don’t understand what it’s like to be an autistic adult because the adults we know are autistic aren’t capable of telling us, and there’s a lot of more mildly autistic people who grow up and live their lives and never know that they’re autistic. I think that some autistic people do have delays or impairments in different areas of their lives, but I also think normal people do, too.”

“Do you think we need to be trained to do things the right way?” He asks. It’s almost a whisper, and his eyes are pleading with her.

“I don’t,” she says, and he breathes an audible sigh of relief, “I don’t think you need to be trained, Gareth. I think you’re capable of making your own decisions and seeking out help when you need it.”

They’re dancing around the issue, and they both know it. She can’t come out and say what’s on both of their minds, he has to come to her with it. All she can do is make space.

“You can say anything you want in this office, Gareth. The only person who will see my notes is me. If you have questions, you can ask them here, and nothing leaves this room. I’m here to help you, not hurt you.”

She thinks maybe she’s lost him because he’s staring at his hands in his lap and is quiet for too long. Just when she gets ready to close the session, he makes a confession.

“I wanted to kiss him—that guy I bumped into. He’s my neighbor. I’ve wanted to kiss him since he moved in, I’ve figured out. Took me a while ‘cause I’m not good at feelings. I didn’t feel that way at all when I kissed Kim—”

“Kim with the book? Who’s in college?” She interjects, making a note.

“It was last year,” he explains, “Seven Minutes in Heaven at a party. She was still a senior, and I don’t think she was planning on, y’know, doing anything with me. I think she nudged the bottle, actually, so I wouldn’t have to go into the closet with someone I didn’t know. I told her I’d never kissed anyone and she told me it was okay, because I was only fifteen and I didn’t need to meet anyone else’s expectations, but that she’d kiss me if I wanted so I didn’t have to worry about it.”

Gareth paused to take a deep breath, since everything felt like it was pouring out of him and he’d forgotten to breathe. “We kissed but I didn’t really feel anything and I thought it was because it was Kim and I didn’t have a crush on her like the rest of our friends.”

“But that guy, the one I wanted to kiss, he has a sister,” Gareth continued. Now that he started, he couldn’t stop all his hurt from flooding out. “She’s beautiful, looks just like him and plays on the volleyball team and I tried to have feelings for her. I mean, maybe I was just confused because a lot of people are beautiful and I mixed up thinking someone was beautiful with liking them, and I’d like her instead once I thought about it.”

“You didn’t, did you?” She prodded gently.

“I did not,” Gareth confirmed with an emphatic nod. It was the most certain she’d seen him all session. 

“But then I got that book and it… it said that autistic people ‘engaged in homosexual relations’,” He made air quotes with his fingers, “because they didn’t know any better, and they had to be…”

“Trained,” they said at the same time. He finally looked up from his lap at her. No eye contact, she noted, but he faked it well.

“I’m starting to see a pattern, here,” she commented, “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m fucked up.” Gareth laughed, but there wasn’t any humor in it.

“I think it’s more that you read a book written by people who don’t actually know what you experience, and they’re just talking about what they observe in people who have the same condition as you, but are more severe. While I do not think you’re stupid, I do think you’re sixteen and not a psychologist, and that all was a lot to process on top of the rest of your life. And everything keeps circling back around to what you read.”

“What do I do?” Gareth’s voice was pleading again. I’m just a kid, I don’t know how to navigate this.

“Throw the book away. Forget what it said about people like you,” She says firmly, but then she softens, “Do you think there could be anything with this boy?”

Gareth shook his head vehemently. “He’s friends with the guy who started the… name… thing. That jerk’s been picking on me for years now, and the guy just… watches. And I know he thinks the same things about me even if he doesn’t say it, but I still want to kiss him.”

“Well, then we’ll work on making things easier where we can, okay? That’ll make the stuff we can’t fix easier to face.” She closed her notebook and gave him another once-over. “I’m gonna grab your mom, and we’ll go over the plan together, okay?”

A look of panic crosses his face. “Don’t tell her about—”

“Hey, nothing you say leaves this room,” she reassures him, and he lets her go.

Gareth goes home with a diagnosis of autism, major depressive disorder, and generalized anxiety disorder. He also goes home with a prescription for an antidepressant, one for an anti-anxiety medication, and a note to his school outlining his psychiatrist’s recommendations for how to best support him. They get his prescriptions filled on the way home and stop for ice cream, because Rocky Road makes everything a little better after a rough day. And when they get home, Gareth crashes hard.

But things do get better. The meds prop his mood up enough that he can focus on surviving the things he can’t change, like Jason, and making an effort on the things he can change, like his grades. He learns coping strategies from the therapist his psychiatrist referred him to, and teaches them to his friends so they can help, because they love him—even if they’re assholes who call his mom behind his back.

Winter break finally arrives, and so do the wayward members of Hellfire Club, and things start to feel okay again.

Winter break is a much-needed respite. Sure, Chance still lives across the street and is a painful reminder of what’s in store for Gareth come January, but all of Gareth’s freak friends are home and they rove the town like a pack of wolves. There’s more of them than there are the bullies, and Gareth gets a break from the torment, even when they run into Jason and his crew in their little Members Only jackets at the Hawkins winter carnival.

Before he sees the rest of Hellfire, Jason looks like he wants to start something with Gareth, but the words die on his tongue as the gang gathers at Gareth’s back, decked in leather and denim and studs, looking at him expectantly. He wisely decides to save his torment for the new semester in a few weeks. It doesn’t stop Eddie from feinting at Jason and eliciting a flinch, once Gareth has turned away. Just to return the favor. Even Jason’s friends take a step back and leave him standing alone. 

Call them freaks if you want, but none of the Hellfire kids would step back toward safety if one of their own was threatened.

While Kim is in town, Gareth quietly shares what he’s learned from his, at this point, sprawling care team. She lets him snuggle in tight to her side and plays with his hair and presses kisses into his part as he talks because he’d mentioned once that she’s a safe person for him and he liked her affection. They both know there’s nothing romantic there, but he’s touch-starved and she’s happy to share. He casually mentions that he’d been talking about it with his psychiatrist, and it was funny the bottle landed on her at that party last year. She has the good grace to look embarrassed.

“I didn’t want someone to hurt you,” she admits, “You’re special and I didn’t want your first kiss to be some random drunk girl. Wasn’t even gonna kiss you, I just didn’t want them to.”

“How did you know it was my first kiss when you nudged the bottle?” He challenged, tone playful. She planted a smooch right on his forehead.

“Ah yes, my precious little socially-stunted sophomore was definitely an experienced kisser,” She giggled, “You’re too cute, Gare-Bear.”

Kim booped his nose the way she always does and he scrunched it up and gave it a wriggle.

“Been practicing those kissing skills on anyone pretty?” She asked, but noticed his mood shift suddenly. She could practically feel the anxiety in the room rising like a flood.

She backpedaled quickly, “Or not! Not my business!”

He never wrote about the bullying in his letters to her because he didn’t want her to worry about something she was helpless to fix. He also had thought they’d move on from tormenting him a lot more quickly, but they were still going strong. But if he couldn’t tell Kim, then who could he tell? She’s the first person outside of his care team to know.

“I like boys, Kim. Only boys. And, y’know, that’s not exactly something to… talk about, here.” He drew his shoulders in, getting small like he felt he was. “Something happened around Halloween.”

And so he told her everything—how he felt when Chance moved in, how much it hurt when he realized that he’d never even had a shot at getting to know Chance, about trying to avoid him all summer when they lived across the street from each other, about trying to like girls, about the Halloween party, and all the torment that followed because Chance must’ve told Jason about Gareth’s split-second lapse of judgment and he’d been publicly branded a queer.

He also told her about how he couldn’t hate Chance, even though he had every single possible reason to and doing so would be self-preservation. He was scared of him, and knew that under no circumstances can he be alone with Chance or his friends. But he can’t let go, either. Moth to the flame.

She let him bury his face against her and cry while she held him tight. It wasn't fair, it wasn't his fault he can’t like girls. It wasn't his fault that Chance is beautiful and straight and Gareth is not so all he can do is cower and want and wait for when they finally manage to catch him alone to teach him a lesson. It wasn't fair that he’s just waiting to see if they manage to kill the queer this time, and he doesn’t even get a kiss for it. It wasn't fair that he’s resigned to his fate.

Finally, when he was all cried out, he made her promise not to tell anyone one else (“Not even my mom, because I know you all talk to her behind my back.”). She did and she took him home, hovering in the driveway until he got the front door shut safely behind him. She drove away slow and saw the neighbor boy shooting hoops in his driveway. Gareth was right—he’s beautiful. If only he knew what a beautiful soul he had longing for him to care. 

Then she goes home and calls Eddie to yell at him for not telling her what was happening while she was away. And then she makes him swear up and down, swear on his precious Warlock, that he will not let Gareth out of his sight, not even to walk to his own front door.

Eddie takes it very, very seriously when Gareth admits he needs a little help with the coping strategies he’s been taught. Gareth doesn’t like the shame that settles in his gut and his cheeks as he explains what a meltdown is and what self-stimulatory behavior looks like and why he does it—according to his psychiatrist—but he tells him anyways. Having the language to describe it helps. Having a diagnosis helps.

What helps more is that Eddie is good at spotting triggers and warning signs. Sound isn’t a trigger for Gareth, usually (and when it is, Eddie reminds him to turn off his aids), but textures can be. Crowds can be. Light can be. Stress and anxiety are the biggest triggers. 

Eddie’s not as good as Kim is at intuiting what Gareth needs and when, but he’s learning fast. In his defense, Kim has known for a lot longer that Gareth was different than Eddie has. And there are things Kim does to comfort Gareth that Eddie can’t do—at least not without spray-painting a neon orange target on Gareth’s back. Eddie can’t hold Gareth or play with his hair or do any of the things Kim does to keep the younger boy calm. Casual touching has to be so calculated.

Sometimes they can head off a meltdown when Eddie squishes Gareth back into his body. He learns to make it look playful—leaning his back against Gareth and squashing him into a wall (always smooth plaster or painted cinder block, never anything too textured) and pretending not to know where he is until Gareth is laughing and trying to squirm his way out. That helps stave off some of the more pointed slurs.

They find stims—like drumming his fingers—that don’t look too weird, or at least not weirder than normal. Those work for little emotions, and when they can keep the emotions little, it’s all Gareth needs. When he can’t and the emotions get too big and he has to resort to a more expressive stim, Eddie will go and make such a fool of himself that no one even notices Gareth shaking out his hands like he’s trying to dry them without a towel.

Chance is usually at the root of the big feelings, and there’s only so long that Gareth can keep hiding that before Eddie notices. He doesn’t say anything, but a half-formed thought that he can’t quite articulate huddles in the back of his mind—there might’ve been a reason why Gareth didn’t crush on Kim. But then again, it’s completely possible that Chance is the lingering reminder of threats and slurs, and Gareth can’t escape him because Chance lives across the damn street from Gareth.

School’s back in session and Kim’s gone so Eddie can’t ask her (at least not without racking up a long-distance phone call he can’t afford). He wishes she was still around, because he feels like Gareth’s just dissolved since she started college last fall and Eddie doesn’t know how to keep patching him up. Eddie knows engines. He knows guitars and amps. He’s even getting pretty good at wood shop, his second time around. He doesn’t know how to keep Gareth from falling apart.

The notes start back up the day they return to school—waiting on Gareth’s locker already by the time he gets to it first thing in the morning. He peels it open just far enough to confirm it is what he thinks it is. He isn’t surprised in the slightest when it is. He’s no longer phased by that word. Getting called that every day takes the sting off of it.

They change tactics. He starts finding newspaper clippings. Every one of them describes a hateful, targeted crime that happened to someone else like him. It’s unsettling, probably should be more unsettling than he feels it is. He’s just waiting at this point. They’re telling him what they want to do to him, and he can’t stop it. Maybe he should have just kissed Chance when he had the opportunity, just so he got something pleasant out of all this. At least then he’d have deserved it.

Someone breaks into his locker and drenches everything in it with pig's blood. Everything inside is ruined. No one will say who did it, so the school administration says their hands are tied. They sit the whole school in the auditorium for an anti-bullying presentation, and Gareth can feel everyone turning to look at him. At this point, he’d just like them to hurry it up and get it over with.

They stagger through the semester. Gareth is assigned a new locker, and that one is pried open and defaced. He stops keeping anything worthwhile in his locker. He gets cornered in a bathroom by a few members of the football team when he dares to go during class and Eddie wasn’t there to watch his back, snatched up by the front of his shirt and slammed up against the wall before Mr. Harris sticks his head in and tells them to knock it off and sends them all back to class. Even Eddie being around isn’t enough, anymore. Gareth gets tripped in the halls, gets shoulder checked, gets pushed.

At least spring break is around the corner, and he’ll get a week off from this shit.

#stranger things fic #gareth stranger things #eddie munson #gareth emerson #gareth the great #eddie munson & gareth #gareth & eddie munson #deaf!Gareth #disabled character #disabled author #gareth stranger things fic #hurt/comfort #hoh stranger things #deaf stranger things #all your faith fic

[darknesseddiem]

Small(Big) Problems

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: "Can you do one for some of the small boob giries please? Where reader is insecure of their small chest but Eddie reassures them xx."

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Self-deprecation, derogatory jokes, low self-esteem, Eddie being a sweetheart and comforting Reader.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.830k.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @birdysaturne @wdsara48 @ali-r3n

You like my work? Support me with a small 𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢.

To all the girls who have ever felt insufficient or worthless, know that you are amazing and that you deserve the world, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

The Hawkins High cafeteria resounded with the clinking of cutlery and trays carrying the students' lunches, the tables entirely occupied by friends chatting animatedly about the frivolities of their unspecial lives.

Each person's place was designated according to a social “hierarchy”, just like in the animal kingdom where the lion was the king of the jungle.

The lions would be the basketball team, the ‘Tigers’. Ironic, isn't it? Logically, the cheerleaders would be the lionesses, responsible for maintaining balance among the pack, or not.

And so followed the hierarchy imposed at Hawkins High: Basketball team and cheerleaders, popular people, party lovers, intellectuals, readers, scientists, musicians, theater kids, alternative people, the shy and reclusive, the dregs of society and… The weird nerds, better known as 'the Hellfire Club'.

At the last table, far from everyone else, was your people, Eddie Munson's pupils who were arguing vehemently about something that you hadn't been able to decipher yet.

“Dude, you don't understand!” Gareth exclaimed frantically, running his hand over his face, “Please, someone kill me…” Jeff replied in a whisper with his head thrown back.

You looked between the two in confusion as you went to your reserved seat- on Eddie's left side, and carefully placed your tray with the food. "What is happening?" Curiosity got the best of you and you whispered, leaning into the boy next to you. “I have no idea, they’ve been at it for almost half an hour.” The curly-haired boy whispered back.

“How come you can’t decide which one is prettier between the two?” Jeff rolled his eyes at his friend, “I can’t because they’re both practically the same!” He countered loudly.

Gareth made a sound as if he had heard the greatest atrocity a human being could utter. “Man…” He said with his jaw dropped, “You are truly blind, without a doubt.” The blonde shook his head. “Oh yeah? Tell me something that’s different about the two.” Everyone at the table was enjoying the two's discussion.

A mischievous smile began to appear on Emerson's face. “That's easy,” He crossed his arms over his chest, “Pamela Anderson's titties are much bigger than Heather Locklear's.” And with that, a commotion was generated at the table.

“Eww!”

“Jesus, we have a lady sitting here Gareth!” Dustin pointed and everyone at the table stared at you.

"And…?" He shrugged. “How do you think she’ll feel hearing you talk about… Um, another woman’s parts like you’re a pervert?” The smaller boy scolded.

"Hey!" The blonde haired boy fumed, "It's not my fault she's flat as a door and feels insecure around other girls' breasts." He slapped his hand over his mouth when he realized what he had just said.

Your face fell in shock and embarrassment, hot tears threatening to form as everyone at the table looked equally shocked at Gareth.

Feeling humiliated enough, you got up from your chair and headed towards the cafe's exit without looking back.

“Man, you really are an asshole.” Grant said disappointed in his friend.

Eddie, who was watching the discussion unfold, now looked at Gareth with a dark look, getting up from his place at the head of the table, Emerson barely had time to react when he was hit with a tray of food and something wet. "What the-"

“Be thankful it’s just food and not a chair,” The older boy said seriously and followed you.

Eddie found you in the drama room where they were playing D&D, “Princess?” The chair next to you was occupied by him. “Hey, I hope you’re not like this because of that scumbag.” He caressed your damp cheek.

“He’s not wrong, Eds… I-” You were silenced by a finger on your lips.

“Ah, ah, I won’t even listen.” His dark curls shook as he shook his head. “Gareth is an idiot who hasn’t left puberty yet.” You both laughed, “But you… You are more than a body, you know that right?” You denied, overwhelmed by the emotions that his sentence brought you.

“You know now, you are an incredible girl with so many qualities… It’s almost ridiculous that you reduce yourself to a body, when you have so much to offer.” His brown eyes looked at you with intensity and sincerity, “I think you’re beautiful, and I’m not just talking about physical beauty.” The smile on your face was huge.

“What I want to say, Princess, is that you are much more than this standard imposed by the patriarchy, you are worth more than that…” He looked down with flushed cheeks.

You jumped into his arms and hugged him like there was no tomorrow, “Thank you, Eds.” You thanked him with a trembling voice and felt him tighten his arms around your waist, returning the hug.

People can be mean, and sometimes you have to remember: You are more than a body.

#darknesseddiemfics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddiemunson #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #bestfriend!eddie munson #older!eddie munson

[buckys-little-belle]

Hi, I’ve been going through somethings and would like to request a Gareth x little reader, maybe him comforting the little during a heavy crying fit or something like that, I hope you have a wonderful day-

Bun

Hellfire Babysitting Club : The Sequel (Part Three and a half) (Blurb)

Meanie Bo-Beanie

Gareth Emerson X Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used) / Hellfire Club x Little!Reader (They/Them Pronouns Used)

Warnings - Crying, mentions of bullying (Jason), protective Hellfire Club, protective gare bear, food mentions, eating of lunch

Notes - Been A while <3 This is pretty short!

Notes Two - Hope this helps bubba, and I hope things are looking up!

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW.

. ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ . ☆ . ☾ . ☆ . ☽ .

"Gareth!" Dustin yelled as he rushed into the drama room, the group, sans Dustin and Bunny, were already digging into their lunches when the boy yelled for Gareth. "Bunny -"

"Bunny what? Dustin!" Gareth stood up, already halfway to the door by the time Dustin could continue.

"They locked themself into the bathroom, and I can't get them to come out." He admits. "They're, they're crying, I don't know why." His voice grows sad as Gareth and him walk towards the bathroom, the rest of the group slowly following behind, not sure what to do.

"Little Bunny?" Gareth's tone is soft, his words already comforting although his face was still contorted in fear and confusion. "It's Gareth, can you come out?"

"Really?" A loud voice booms from down the hallway. "I though you losers would have dropped baby juice box already." Jason laughs, two basketball guys on either side.

Lucas clenched his jaw hard, his fists balled at his side. "Jason, Y/n has nothing to do with this." The group looks to him in confusion, Jason's eyebrows furrowing.

"They have everything to do with this, you told coach I "Bullied" them and he believed you!" Jason laughed.

"You what?" One of the guys next to him speaks up.

"I didn't do anything too mean." Jason laughed. "But Sinclair's got it out for me, probably wants my Team Capitan position or something." The teen scoffs.

As Jason and his guys argue over Jason being a bad guy, something everyone could see, Gareth drowns them out and turns back to the door. "It's okay Bunny, if you want to wait in there that's okay."

"Don' wan' to bear." Y/n cries loudly.

"Jason is leaving now, why don't you come out and we can go eat some lunch?"

"'m scared." Y/n admits, another cries echoing off the bathroom walls.

"I know, but I promise I'm here to protect you, and so is everyone else."

The door lock clicks and Y/n peaks their head out, tears still rapidly falling down their cheeks, a huge frown on their face. "It's okay cheesy, I'll protect you." El speaks up.

"Everyone will." Will bumps El's shoulder.

Gareth squats down, pulling his long sleeve over his thumb and patting away some of Y/n's tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you, Bunny."

"Jus' wan'ed to give you 'his" Y/n holds out a juice box to Gareth, the straw missing, but the label reading "Fruit punch". "Said you li'ed it."

Gareth smiles, his own tears threatening to spill. "Yes, I do like fruit punch. Thank you Bunny." His hand land on their back and rubs in circles, their tears slowing, breathing calming down.

"You li'e it?" Y/n's lower lip wobbles.

"I love it, Bunny."

#buckys little belle #age regression fic #age regression #little!reader #hellfire club #hellfire club x reader #hellfire babysitting club #hellfire club x little!reader #hellfire club x little reader #gareth x little!reader #gareth x reader #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #stranger things