#gareth to the rescue | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamcubed · 9 months ago

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the archer | lorenzo berkshire x reader

song; the archer [taylor swift] pairing; lorenzo berkshire x fem!non-slytherin!reader genre; s2l, comedy, fluff word count; 5,8k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, alcohol, drunkenness, suggestive comments, blood and injury (bc of his cat) summary; lorenzo's cat hates everybody but you

masterlist

"who could ever leave me, darling? but who could stay?"

——————————————

Lorenzo Berkshire had no idea why his cat was such a hateful being, but she had always been that way, ever since she was a kitten. He would have understood if she had been a rescue from the streets or something, but, alas, she wasn't. She had always been feisty, and only docile with him, which was why his aunt (who owned the mother) had just sent her his way. Not that he minded, he often joked how his cat, who he had fondly named Midnight, was just like him: very selective with who he let close to him.

He had brought her with him to Hogwarts, naturally, and she had secluded herself exclusively within his dorm room— she hated being at the castle, but he knew that she would hate being at home without him even more. And, when he had graduated into sixth year, he had been blessed with his own dorm room, allowing her to finally settle down.

Only, the current problem was that she was missing. Lorenzo had returned from Saturday breakfast in hopes of a bit of downtime with his feline friend, but he instead found a frown forming on his face as he frantically searched his entire bedroom and then down the corridors and all the other Slytherin dormitories. She was definitely gone, he realised, beginning to feel an itching sense of worry as he loved that cat more than anything. Why would she have left? Did the privacy of a solitary bedroom meant she finally felt comfortable enough to explore the rest of the castle? He didn't know, and it didn't matter, he just knew that he had to find her.

"Have you seen Midnight?" he asked, hurrying up to Mattheo in the common room.

"No."

"She's missing."

"She's a cat, she's probably just wandering," his friend shrugged, "They do that, y'know."

"Not Midnight," he ran his hand through his hair, "Never Midnight."

Mattheo observed his friend carefully, "Relax, mate, she'll come back."

"I can't relax," he cursed under his breath, "I'm going to look for her."

What if she attacked someone who tried to pet her? Dumbledore might ban Midnight from the castle and send her home. Or, even worse, she would get put down. He couldn't bear that thought, but after searching all the rooms down in the dungeons, he quickly realised that he had no idea where to look from there.

***

Meanwhile, you had been enjoying a perfectly pleasant afternoon in the courtyard with a book, the last rays of Summer shining down on you before the chilliness of Autumn struck. You went to turn the page, when you noticed a commotion going on across the expanse of flagstones. With furrowed eyebrows, you let curiosity get the better of you and shut your book.

Upon arriving at the scene, you quickly realised that the centre of attention was a pitch-black cat who was hissing ferociously. Some second year boys were tormenting the poor thing who was clearly terrified— reaching their hands out to get a reaction, and then pulling away before it could swipe them with its claws.

"What are you doing?" you asked disapprovingly, normally willing to let younger years have their mischievous fun, but not at the expense of a poor innocent animal.

"It attacked Gareth out of nowhere," one of the boys gestured towards his friend, who was nursing a bleeding arm, "We're just getting our revenge."

You shook your head, "I can't allow that, I'm afraid, it's obviously terrified."

Crouching down, you placed your book on the floor and delicately held a hand out a safe distance from the cat. You made cooing noises to attract it over, hoping that it wouldn't see you as a threat.

"I wouldn't do that," the boy who had been scratched said, "A seventh year girl tried already, and now she's in the hospital wing."

"I'm not scared of a little blood," you replied, before saying to the cat, "I'm not gonna hurt you, baby, I'll get you away from these scary boys, yeah?"

Maybe it sensed your gentle nature, or maybe you simply seemed like the lesser evil next to the boys, but it ceased its hissing and started cautiously padding towards you. Eventually, its soft face rubbed against your palm, and you began soft pets until you could feel purring.

"There we are, you're safe," you murmured, delicately positioning yourself to pick it up, hoping it wouldn't freak out too much. Thankfully, it didn't, and settled into one of your arms as you picked up your book and stood up. "Your owner is probably looking for you."

A soft mewl came in response. You decided that it would be easier for the owner to find their cat if you stayed in the same place, so you returned to your reading spot and sat the cat down on your lap. It curled up instantly, closing its eyes as it entered a light slumber, while you reopened your book and continued where you left off.

***

Rumours spread like wildfire within the walls of Hogwarts, so it wasn't long before Lorenzo heard that a girl had been attacked so badly by a cat that she had ended up in the hospital wing. He immediately sprinted in that direction, ignoring scoldings from teachers and prefects, until he burst into the polished white room.

"Whatever do you think you're doing, young man?" Madam Pomfrey snapped.

"The girl. Cat attack," he panted out, "Where is she?"

The nurse pointed towards the end bed of the ward, "Just there— although I must ask you to-"

Lorenzo didn't listen to the rest of her words, running over to the girl's bed. She had a bandage on her cheek and right arm, and she didn't seem all that pleased.

"What colour was the cat?" he asked quickly.

The girl frowned, "I'm guessing that beast is yours then."

He nodded.

She rolled her eyes, "Black. You ought to get it put down."

Lorenzo let out a sound that bordered on a growl.

"It scratched me so deep it hit an important artery. There was blood everywhere— my favourite shirt is ruined."

"I don't care," he bit off, "Where did it happen?"

She scowled at him, "The courtyard. Go deal with it before someone else gets hurt."

He didn't even give her a response before he was running off again, praying to all the Hogwarts founders that Midnight was still in the courtyard and completely unharmed.

***

Approximately twenty minutes had passed by with the adorable feline curled up in your lap when the sound of a door bursting open echoed throughout the courtyard. You watched as an angry Lorenzo Berkshire, a Slytherin boy in your year, made a beeline towards the group of second year boys that were still gathered. He must have seen the blood on one of the boys' arms, because he went to him first. You observed curiously as Berkshire spoke angrily, and then the evidently now scared boy pointed in your direction.

Berkshire looked over, and then his eyes locked on to yours. He was storming over to you with a fury that could destroy nations.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Can I help you?"

He didn't reply, the anger not leaving his face, but he seemed to be contemplating something.

"Hello? Berkshire?"

"That can't be her," you heard him mutter. At the sound of his voice, the cat perked up, and instantly meowed at him. "It is you," he said disbelievingly.

"Your cat, I presume?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, holding out his hand to beckon it over.

"What's its name?" you realised that this was the first conversation that you were having with the boy despite sharing classes for over five years.

"Midnight," he said, his voice sounding oddly strained, "She's called Midnight."

You smiled, scratching her neck in a way that made her mewl. "It's very fitting."

Lorenzo stared at you interacting with his cat, having never before seen Midnight so friendly with anyone except him. "She hates people," he said without thinking.

You hummed, "Yeah, I heard about the girl in the hospital wing."

He grimaced.

"She's quite sweet with me though."

"I've never seen her like that with anyone but me."

"Guess I'm special," you beamed, continuing to stroke Midnight.

"Uh, can I have her back now?" he asked, seeming almost unsure of himself. While Lorenzo was generally considered one of the nicer Slytherin boys, he still held himself with a terrifying confidence, and didn't have a completely scot-free track record either— refer to his behaviour when it comes to his cat going missing. However, now, stood before you as said cat had elected you as the second likeable person she had met, the confidence had been knocked out of him.

"Oh, of course," you said easily, picking Midnight up and handing her over. "Bye, cutie," you cooed, as the black cat reluctantly accepted her fate in Lorenzo's arms.

"Thanks," he said stiffly, turning on his heel and walking away. You couldn't help but watch his behaviour with an air of amusement.

***

"Fuckin' Azkaban," Lorenzo cursed, so loudly that Mattheo popped his head through the door.

"What are you shouting about?"

"Midnight's missing. Again."

Mattheo chuckled, "Maybe that girl who took a liking to your cat took her."

Lorenzo looked at him disbelievingly, "I highly doubt that. L/N isn't the type to sneak into another house."

With a shrug, his friend fully entered the room. "I'd say maybe don't freak out as much this time. We lost a lot of points for you being a dick to that girl in the hospital."

Lorenzo scowled, "You're one to talk. You've lost ten times as many points as me."

"Do you want to go look for her? It's almost curfew."

"I have to. Can't have another hospital case."

"Put a tracking charm on her when you find her."

Lorenzo agreed that it was a good idea.

***

Whenever there was a cacophony of meows coming from outside a common room door, it was customary to open it. Often times a cat would be returning to its owner, and it wouldn't do to leave it stranded out there. Today was no exception.

You were, as usual, curled up on a sofa doing some homework when you heard faint meows from the other side. Perking your head up, you watched as the boy nearest to the door went to open it, letting in a black cat. It didn't seem like anything strange: you knew a couple black cats who belonged to your house members. Only, they were sweet and friendly, and you watched as the cat tried to scratch the poor boy. Thankfully, he dodged it, and you quickly ran over as you suspected whose cat it might be.

Immediately, it meowed softly at you and went to rub against your legs— and that's when you knew that it was definitely Midnight.

"Get your cat under control," the boy said.

"Oh, she's not mi-" but he had already walked away.

With a sigh, you picked up the feline and moved back to the sofa, knowing that it was just past curfew so you couldn't return her right at that second. Unless she elected to leave herself, she would have to stay with you for the night. Not that you were complaining, but you could only imagine how worried Lorenzo must be. Those thoughts quickly slipped away, however, when she curled up in your lap and began purring.

***

Walking down the darkened corridor with nothing but his wand as light, Lorenzo found his feet leading in one particular direction. He had already checked the Great Hall, and the kitchens, and peeked out the window into the courtyard, but to no avail. Only one more idea of where she might have wandered off to lingered in his mind: he knew what house you were in, and that was where he was headed. He just hoped to Salazar that he wouldn't run into a professor.

"Mr Berkshire."

Fuck.

"Yes, professor?" he said slowly, turning around to face Professor Snape.

"It's past curfew."

"I know, professor."

"How disappointing to see one of my own Slytherins disregarding the rules of Hogwarts."

"It's my cat," he said, hoping Snape would show some amount of heart, "She's missing."

Snape quirked an eyebrow, "Cats are prone to wandering. This is hardly a cause for concern."

"Yes, but not Midnight."

"Regardless of the nature of your cat, do you really think you will find her considering the size of this castle?"

Lorenzo said nothing.

"I understand she was responsible for the attack the other day. However, that is hardly a risk as it is night time, when students should be in bed," he drawled the last part, his arms firmly crossed.

"Yes, professor."

"Five points from Slytherin." Lorenzo knew the punishment would have been harsher if he wasn't of the house he was.

"I know where she is, though."

"How is she considered missing, then?"

Lorenzo didn't have an answer for that.

"If you know where she is, you will have no trouble finding her in the morning. I will escort you back to the dungeons."

The boy let out a sigh.

***

Having not slept a wink that night, Lorenzo was up bright and early just after sunrise, ready to resume his journey to your house. He walked up to where he had heard that the door was— having never seen it in person— and thought about how he was going to enter. To his luck, it swung open, to reveal a prefect from your house. She immediately gave him a sceptical look.

"What do you want, Berkshire?"

"I need to see L/N."

"At this hour?" she sighed.

"She has my cat. I think."

"The black one?"

He nodded.

"Okay, fine— you can go in," she said, stepping out the way, "But don't tell anyone I let you in."

"Of course, thank you."

Mattheo had always told him that she was one of the softer prefects, having had a lot of experience with them on his late night antics.

He entered the common room to find that it was empty, and he didn't waste anytime heading up the girls' dormitory stairs. Thankfully, the layout was quite simple: each year had their own floor, and it went upwards chronologically. The first few floors had rooms that were shared, but when he reached the sixth floor, he found a number of doors that seemed to align with the number of sixth year girls in your house.

Only, which one was yours? He couldn't very well walk in on an unsuspecting sleeping girl: Salazar knows how she would react.

So, he decided to knock on the first door, waiting patiently as he heard a groggy, "What?" in response. He felt a little bad for waking someone up, but Midnight was more important to him than anything.

"Uh, which room is L/N's?"

"Berkshire?" the voice replied. He was surprised at how calm she seemed to be taking the news that a Slytherin boy had invaded the girls' dormitories.

"Uh, yes."

"Last room on the left. Your cat is fine."

He concluded that you must be friends with her, and informed her that the cat you were in possession of belonged to him.

"Thank you," he said, adding a, "Sorry for waking you," to which he heard no response.

Choosing to leave her be, he made his way to your room and once again knocked. Only, this time, he didn't get a response. He knocked again, and he still received no human response, but he did hear a familiar meow sound out. Praying that you would forgive him, he opened the door and peeked in carefully, to see that you were curled up within your pillows with Midnight lying down beside your head.

He entered the room fully and quietly closed the door behind him. His cat meowed again, louder this time, which caused you to stir in your sleep. When your eyes finally peeled open and caught sight of Lorenzo through your blurry vision, you jumped out of bed.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you whisper-yelled.

"My cat," he said simply.

"Is perfectly safe and healthy as you can see— that's no reason to break into girls' dormitories!"

Once again, Lorenzo found himself speechless. All you were wearing was a skimpy pair of shorts and a cropped top which had your nipples peeking through. Not much was left to the imagination.

"Berkshire! What if I'd been naked?"

That's when a smirk crept on to his face, as he felt his usual level of confidence oozing through his veins. "What if, hm?"

"Keep it in your pants," you grumbled, grabbing a jumper from the floor and pulling it over your head. You tried to ignore the way his gaze made you feel.

He shrugged, changing the subject, "I had to make sure Midnight was safe."

"Well, you clearly knew where she was."

He couldn't argue that point, causing an awkward silence to fall upon the room. Awkward until he involuntarily let out a yawn.

"That's what you get for being up so early," you mumbled, climbing back into your bed and under the sheets. Midnight immediately began cosying up to you.

"I couldn't sleep."

You regarded him carefully: it was strange to see a Slytherin boy so evidently worried about another living being.

"Here she is, then," you said, gesturing towards the feline, "Take her and go sleep before people see you were here."

"Embarrassed of me?" he chuckled, moving to pick up Midnight.

"I'd rather not get called a slut," you snapped.

He didn't reply to that comment, wrapping his hands around his cat who did not take kindly to the action: not that she tried to scratch him or anything, but she immediately wriggled out of his arms to return to you.

"Midnight, you're my cat, you can't stay here," he grumbled, trying to pick her up again. You watched the scene play out through half-shut eyes, feeling quite amused by the whole ordeal.

Once again, she escaped his grasp.

"This is unbelievable."

"What? Unbelievable that she likes me so much?" you chuckled sleepily.

Lorenzo scowled, "I'm not leaving until she comes with me."

You sighed, realising that you may not be able to escape any slut rumours at this rate. "Fine. But I'm going back to sleep."

Lorenzo watched as your breathing became slower and more laboured, unable to process the absurdity of the situation that he was in. However, he could process how peaceful and adorable you looked while sleeping, all while his furry feline cuddled up next to you with deep purrs. Eventually, he felt his lack of sleep catch up to him, his body finally allowing itself to relax now that he knew Midnight was definitely safe and sound. He sat down on your bed, reaching his hand out to stroke his cat. She mewled at the action, making him feel relieved that she hadn't started to hate him all of a sudden.

"Am I not enough for you, hm?" he murmured softly, sitting up against the headboard. His head began to lull back as he felt sleep overcome him.

***

You woke up properly at around nine o'clock, safe in the knowledge that you didn't have a lesson until eleven that day. With a soft yawn and a stretch of your limbs, you only remembered the events of earlier when you rolled over to see a sleeping Lorenzo slouched against your headboard, and Midnight sprawled across his lap.

Merlin, your usually mundane and repetitive life had really taken a turn. Unfortunately, despite the insanity of everything he had done, you didn't have the heart to wake him. You couldn't help but think that you would have done the same if Midnight was your cat. Plus, Lorenzo was very physically attractive— you knew that, everyone knew that. Yet, it was your bed that he was asleep on.

Sighing, you sat up, reaching over to scratch Midnight's head affectionally, causing her to wake up and start stretching. The action made Lorenzo stir in his sleep, and once his cat let out a soft mewl, he finally woke up fully. Immediately, you quirked an eyebrow at him, and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

"Comfortable?"

He grumbled, "No."

You chuckled softly, "Your friends will be wondering where you are."

The proximity between the two of you was quite close: you were sat cross-legged with a mere inch between your limbs. It didn't feel strange, though, in fact it felt quite natural.

"Anyway," you tried to ignore the closeness, "As much as this has been fun, you can't come in here every time Midnight does."

"Why not?"

"I told you earlier. I don't need people making assumptions about me."

His eyes met yours, and you felt your stomach flip. "What if we made the assumptions true?"

You froze, then relaxed, "You don't mean that."

He shrugged.

***

Despite your hopes and dreams, people saw Lorenzo Berkshire leaving your dormitory, and the rumours spread throughout Hogwarts at a rapid speed. And, of course, as he was one of the Slytherin boys who were notorious for sleeping around— albeit less so than the others— you had been dubbed as his next conquest. It was a nuisance, but you weren't insecure, and knew that it would pass before long.

"If you didn't fuck, why was he in your dorm?" Iris, your friend from another house, asked. You were sat at a table in the library together, doing homework. Well, you were doing homework, Iris was borderline interrogating you instead.

"I had his cat," you replied simply.

"You stole his cat?"

You rolled your eyes, "No, Iris, his cat came to me."

"Isn't his cat the really vicious one who hates everyone?"

You hummed absent-mindedly, running your finger down the contents page of a book you were using for your essay.

"Why did it go to you then?"

"She likes me," you murmured, finding the page that you wanted and turning to it.

"That doesn't explain why he was in your dorm so long though."

"No, it doesn't."

Iris huffed, clearly irritated that you were giving her little to no information. You loved her dearly, but she was a bit of a gossip. Suddenly, she gasped. "Are you courting?"

"Who even uses that word anymore?" you scrunched up your nose, "And, no, we're not." Although, you couldn't help but think back to his suggestive comments.

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want to believe."

"You're no fun," she pouted.

"Meow."

You looked down to your side in surprise, to see that the familiar black feline was stood by your chair with her tail raised indignantly. "Speak of the devil," you muttered, leaning down to pick her up.

"Midnight!" you heard a yell as the library doors swung upon. You watched as Lorenzo was quickly shushed by the librarian. He apologised to her whilst scanning the room, soon spotting you with his cat sat on your lap. He hurried over.

"You need to stop freaking out whenever she goes wandering," you chastised when he was within a few feet of your table.

He scoffed, "You try not to freak out when you have an incredibly hostile cat who could be banned from Hogwarts."

"I think I do, in a way," you raised Midnight up into the air above you, examining her carefully.

"She's still my cat."

"Relax," you said, "I was just joking."

He glared at you, but there was no real threat in it.

"At least this means you get to see me so much," you grinned cheekily, making him shake his head with a sigh.

"How unfortunate for me."

"Wow, that hurts, Lorenzo." Since when did you feel like you could call him by his first name?"

"Well, Y/N, sorry for not enjoying running like a madman after my little terror."

"Then start thinking of it as running like a madman straight towards me."

He seemed surprised at that comment, and went silent for a few moments. These few moments were when Iris decided to cut in, having been observing silently until then.

"Seems like flirting to me."

You scowled at her.

"I'm just saying, would it not make sense to date the one other person who your cat likes?" she said this more towards Lorenzo than you.

He stared blankly at your friend, a finger on his right hand twitching ever so slightly. You didn't know what to make of that reaction, but decided that you wanted to learn more about what Lorenzo's body language said.

"Can I have my cat back?" he finally spoke.

"Can I please just keep her for a little bit?" you pleaded, "I can't have a cat because my mum's allergic."

Lorenzo surveyed you carefully: your half-hearted attempt at puppy dog eyes and the way Midnight nuzzled her head into your chest. He felt a pang of jealousy: strange and twisting. Weirdly, he didn't think he felt that envious of his cat's affections for you, so he didn't know why he felt jealous. A flashback of the skimpy pyjamas you had been wearing the other night crossed through his mind.

Shit.

"Yeah, uh, sure," he said all too quickly, "Only an hour though."

You hadn't expected him to agree so easily. Nonetheless, you beamed, and said, "Thank you, Enzo."

Enzo. He only let his friends use that nickname. Scratch that: he generally only tolerated when his friends used that nickname. But from you, it sounded sweet, and soft. He knew that he was a more civil and selfless person than the rest of the Slytherin boys, but he doubted many people would go as far as to say his name with such gentleness.

Gulping, he turned and walked away without another word.

***

A little over an hour later, you found Lorenzo in the Great Hall with his friends. They appeared to be enjoying a late lunch, as the tables were sparsely populated and only a few dishes remained. Just the sight of food made your stomach grumble, so you made your way over to him with Midnight curled up in your arms.

"Hello," you smiled, standing next to Lorenzo.

"Hi," he replied, before cooing at his cat who mewled happily.

Your stomach grumbled again, louder this time, and you shrugged sheepishly. "Haven't eaten yet."

"Then eat," Mattheo Riddle said from across the table, gesturing to the food.

You handed the cat over to her owner, and questioned, "Here?" You had never sat at the Slytherin table before.

Riddle shrugged, "Why not?"

You couldn't argue with that, and took a seat beside Lorenzo, dishing food on to your plate in a hurry.

"Where's Arachwood?" Enzo asked, referring to Iris.

"Got distracted by the boy she likes."

"Who does she like?" Riddle asked, clearly a lover of gossip and rumours— much like Iris.

You quirked an eyebrow, "Why should I divulge my friend's secrets?"

"She doesn't seem to have much regard for yours," Lorenzo piped in.

"Yeah, she does run her mouth a bit, but she's my friend," you scooped a large mouthful on to your fork, "I just take care not to tell her my most personal secrets." You then finally allowed yourself to taste the mouth-watering nourishment.

"So? Who does she like?" Riddle asked.

You stared at him incredulously as your mouth was full.

"I think the bigger question is who does L/N like," Theodore Nott added, smirking as he watched the eyes of you and Enzo widen.

Swallowing your food, you turned the topic back to Iris, "She likes Boot."

"Terry Boot?" Riddle clarified, and you nodded.

"I'm only saying that because she makes no effort to keep it private."

"But what about you?" Nott pushed again.

You paused, as in truth, you hadn't really fancied anyone for a while— that was, until, you remembered how gorgeous Lorenzo had looked sleeping on your bed. You felt your face burn.

"No one," you murmured, but your tone was anything but believable. You scooped more food into your mouth so you couldn't answer any further questions, but none were asked.

"We're having a party tonight," Riddle said, "You should come."

You were unable to reply as you chewed.

"It's really just Slytherins," he continued, "But we're all allowed a plus one. You can be Enzo's."

Cautiously, you looked at Lorenzo to gauge his reaction to that suggestion, but he didn't seem to have one as he mindlessly stroked Midnight.

"Yeah, if you want," he said, clearing his throat.

Finally, you swallowed, "That sounds fun. Should I bring alcohol?"

"I would recommend it," Riddle replied.

You were a mix of nervous and excited.

***

When you arrived at the Slytherin dungeons that evening, you were greeted by two fourth years at the door who seemed to be taking the job of security guard very seriously.

"Name?" one of them asked.

"Y/N L/N."

"And who are you here with?"

"Lorenzo Berkshire."

One of them wandered off into the party as the other turned to you, "We just have to validate this. Standard procedure."

You suppressed a giggle.

Not too long later, the other fourth year returned with Lorenzo by his side. With a nod to his friend, you were beckoned in and went over to Enzo.

"Very formal," you finally let out the giggle as the two of you began walking into the main party.

He shrugged, "Riddle insists on it. Salazar knows why."

You gazed around the Slytherin common room, taking in the green and black decor that you had never had the chance to lay eyes on before. There was music playing quite loudly, but you hadn't been able to hear it from outside— likely thanks to a sound-proofing charm.

"Have you started drinking yet?" he asked you.

"I had one while I was getting ready, you?"

"I've had a couple," he shrugged, stopping in his tracks for a few moments to properly look at you, "You look very pretty."

A blush crept on to your cheeks, "Thank you."

You could have sworn a small smirk graced his lips.

"L/N! You made it," the booming voice of Riddle thundered from nearby, and you turned to see him approaching with a bottle in his hand.

"Yeah," you chuckled, "Don't know how I'm gonna make it back without getting caught though."

"Just stay in Enzo's room," he said, clearly already too drunk to think over his words.

Before you could respond to his statement, he had spotted someone else and hurried over to them.

"You can if you want," Lorenzo said quietly, "I've crashed your room before."

You chuckled at the strangely fond memory, "Scared the shit out of me."

He grimaced, "Sorry about that."

"It's okay, just give me a little more warning next time."

"Next time?" he repeated, a suggestive lilt to his tone.

"Where's Midnight?" you changed the subject.

"Up in my room, probably."

You hummed, "Right, I need to get more alcohol in me." And with that comment, you wandered off, not wanting Lorenzo to feel like you were following him around like a lost puppy— despite how much you had realised you wanted to be around him. It was a strange realisation: it was the first time a crush had snuck up on you rather than you more or less picking someone you found attractive to fancy.

And with that thought lingering, you poured yourself a shot, downed it, and then made a mixed drink to join the party with.

***

The increasing amount of alcohol danced through your bloodstream as the night went on and you found yourself dancing with some Slytherin girls, and having a full blown debate with a Ravenclaw guy who was there with his Slytherin girlfriend. You were having a lot of fun, but you found your drunken self wanting to go search for Lorenzo. So, you did just that, scanning the large room for any sight of him. Finally, your eyes locked on to the familiar tuft of brown hair sat on a sofa, with his friends all sat around him.

You walked over, somewhat clumsily, and immediately beamed widely, "Hi, Enzo," you said.

His gaze flicked to you and a small smile crept on to his face, "How are you doing?"

"I missed you," you said without thinking, sitting down next to him and bringing your legs up on to the sofa to curl into his side. His arm was spread out, resting behind you on the back of the settee.

"Did you?" he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, which he held in his other hand.

You nodded, "Did you miss me? Wait, don't answer that."

His lips stretched into a full grin, "I might have missed you."

You narrowed your eyes at him, "Don't play with my feelings, Berkshire. I know you're not as much of a player as the others, but I'm still suspicious."

"Never," he said, leaning closer to you so he could say in a husky quiet voice, "Call me Berkshire."

You raised an eyebrow, "Don't think I won't leave if you show signs of leading me on." How had this turned into a full blown confession? Wasn't it a bit premature for that?

"Who could ever leave me, darling?" The alcohol had clearly inflated his already radiant confidence.

"But who could stay?" you whispered in his ear, before stumbling to your feet, only to feel his hand grasp around your wrist. You turned back, to see that he was looking at you with his mouth folded in a thin line.

"You could," he eventually muttered, "Midnight would miss you too much."

"Just Midnight?" you teased, finding that your drunkenness was filling you with reckless abandon.

He sighed, "I would, too."

You grinned, sitting back down next to him.

"Do you want to go to Hogsmeade next weekend?" he asked.

"I thought you'd never ask."

And, when you woke up the next morning cuddled up with Lorenzo and Midnight in his bed, you smiled despite your pounding headache— and slight urge to throw up. Scratch that: huge urge to throw up. But when you stumbled to the bathroom, waking up Lorenzo in the process, he followed you and held back your hair, talking you through it.

It was peculiar, really, how everything was still so new, but you didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about him seeing you in such an ugly state.

—————————————————

masterlist

written; 26/04/2024 —> 09/05/2024 published; 12/05/2024 edited; —/—/——

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Staking My Claim Part 1

Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.

This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.

***

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.

Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.

So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”

All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.

Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”

“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.

Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”

Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.

“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”

Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”

Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.

He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.

This was not that.

Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.

“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”

Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”

Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”

Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”

Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”

Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”

The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”

“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”

“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”

Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”

Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”

The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.

“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”

“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”

Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”

“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”

Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”

Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”

“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”

Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.

He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.

“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.

Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.

“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.

“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”

Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”

Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”

“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.

“Both.”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”

“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”

“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”

Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”

He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.

“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.

Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”

“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.

“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”

The entire table recoiled in sympathy.

“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”

Eddie face turned into a feral grin.

Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”

Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.

Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”

“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.

They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.

Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.

Then the world went black.

***

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tw drugging #corroded coffin

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queer-ragnelle · 1 month ago

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can you tell us more about gingalain? he seems intriguing but i don't know much about him

I sure can! Here are the texts that center his story.

Le Bel Inconnu (French)

Gilglois (French)

Wigalois: Knight of Fortune’s Wheel by Wirnt von Grafenberg (German)

Carduino (Italian)

Sir Libeaus Desconus (Middle English)

Vidvilt (Yiddish)

His name differs depending on the text (as shown with the titles) but in Le Bel Iconnu [The Fair Unknown] his baptismal name is revealed to be Guinglain; varied spellings of that name appear in other texts so, I'll adjust my spelling accordingly.

Anyway the gist of his origin [most of the time] is that Gawain meets and falls in love with a mysterious woman but has to leave her to return to his duties at King Arthur’s court, only to discover he can no longer return to his lady/wife who lives in an impenetrable Otherworldy bubble. Years go by and their child grows up. The child eventually leaves home in search of his father. He ends up at King Arthur’s court but remains anonymous, so Arthur dubs him “The Fair Unknown,” for he’s handsome and skilled at arms. He goes on adventures with ladies, fighting giants and dragons, eventually revealing to Gawain that he's his son by the fairy/Otherworld lady.

"Guinglain’s" coat of arms in French Le Bel Iconnu is a lion...

In German Wigalois it’s a golden wheel of fortune...

In Middle English Sir Libeaus Desconus it's a griffin...

But when you google the character by name, Guingalain or Gingalain, it's this shield which pops up:

Now it's a pretty badass shield, but where does it come from? It doesn't appear in The Manuscripts and Patronage of Jacques d’Armagnac, where Gawain and his brothers first got their coats of arms. Evidentially this image comes from Le Blason des Armoiries by Jérôme de Bara, published in 1604, from which many knights received their coats of arms including Sagramore, Kay, and Bedivere.

Gawain's son appears in the supporting cast of many other texts. He's called "Gyngolyn" at the end of The Wedding of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle.

And "Gangalayne" shows up again in Le Morte d’Arthur alongside his father, Gawayne, half brothers, Florence and Louel, and uncles, Agrauayne, Gaherys, Mordred, and Gareth.

Sometimes he keeps the title "The Fair Unknown" even after his relation to Gawain is known, as in the 2nd Perceval Continuation.

Some texts develop him into a fully fledged character beyond his origins, such as in the Prose Tristan, where "Giglain" fights Tristan and then reports back to a grieving Isolde that Tristan still lives.

And in the Post-Vulgate, "Guinglain" guards a bridge and challenges any who try to pass, including Galahad, Arthur the Less, and Palamedes.

He also appears in some retellings.

The best example is Gillian Bradshaw's trilogy. He's called "Gwyn" and his parents are Gwalchmai and Elidan. Their romance covers book 1, Hawk of May, then Gwyn is discovered in book 2, Kingdom of Summer, and his paternity revealed to Gwalchmai on Elidan's deathbed in book 3, In Winter's Shadow. These books are fine, but so slow, and started the trend of replacing Lancelot with Bedwyr to keep it more "historical/Welsh," meanwhile Agravain is still a character and Medraut is a bastard of incest and all the Orkney bros are actually Irish. So what was the point of that? I'd rather Lancelot had been there, particularly because Gwyn's death occurs when Bedwyr comes to rescue Gwenhwyfar from her fate and Bedwyr kills him, unarmed, to get her. So it follows the French storyline anyway. I do adore how much everyone loves Gwyn. Afterwards, Cei is acting as lawyer to work out Bedwyr's story against Medraut's, and they have this exchange:

Gwyn was everybody's baby boy. Then Cei describes the extent of Gwalchmai's grief, including having the horse he gifted Gwyn slain and burning all his belongings.

Cei likens it to the grief felt at Agravain's passing. So this is good food for Gawain and family enjoyers, but as I said, not a huge fan of Bedwyr/Lancelot hybrid as Gwyn's murderer.

In Persia Woolley's third book, Guinevere The Legend in Autumn, introduces the character. But she's so unpleasant about her characters of color...

Yeahhhhh. Long story short, Ragnelle is a fey nomad that lives among the animals she herds. She was unable to be made "civilized" and left court, evidentially sending her son "Gingalin" to be fostered by Bertilack, then given to Gawain after his Green Knight quest. There's so much unnecessary emphasis on their skin-tone coupled with the way their culture's framed it's just. Ick. I hate it.

In Howard Pyle's fourth book The Story of the Grail and the Passing of Arthur, "Gingaline" is mentioned in the line up of knights who join Agravaine and Mordred in the ambush of Launcelot and Guinevere. Ironically, he isn't mentioned as Gawaine's son, but his half brothers, Florence and Lovel, are.

Since Ragnelle and Gromer Somer Joure are both present in Pyle's series, I'm going to assume "Gingaline" is Gawaine's son. I know it, in my heart.

Lastly, in The Green Knight (2021) movie, Gawain has an unnamed son who dies in battle. He's Guinglain. To me. If I squint.

So what do I recommend reading? Of the Medieval stuff, the French story Le Bel Iconnu is the origin, so it's a great place to start. The English Sir Libeaus Desconus is short and sweet, with a really great scene of his kinsmen, Gawain, Agravaine, and Ywain, plus friends Lancelot and Perceval, arming him. Yiddish Vidvilt is also fun, it resembles the German Wigalois the most, which is my favorite.

And that's everything I got. As you can see there's a lot of Gawain's son in Medieval stories and not very many in modern ones. I love him! Let's includes him in more stories, shall we? :^)

#arthuriana #arthurian legend #arthurian mythology #arthurian literature #welsh mythology #sir gawain #sir guinglain #sir gingalain #the fair unknown #wigalois #vidvilt #le bel iconnu #gilglois #sir libeaus desconus #quotes #ask #anonymous

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steddiebang2024 · 4 months ago

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The Hand That Feeds | Teen and Up | 82k

Author: @jaytriesstrangerthings

Artist @hullomoon

Beta Reader: @roomwithanopenfire

[Link to fic] | [Link to art]

Pairings: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & The Party, Steve Harrington & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers & Steve Harrington, Corroded Coffin & Steve Harrington

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, The Party (Stranger Things), Dustin Henderson, Will Byers, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Erica Sinclair, Corroded Coffin (Stranger Things), Gareth (Stranger Things), Jeff (Stranger Things), Unnamed Freak (Stranger Things), Joyce Byers, Wayne Munson, Jim "Chief" Hopper

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Steve Harrington has bad parents, Eddie Munson is a good friend, Hurt Steve Harrington, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Protective Eddie Munson, Touch Starved Steve Harrington

Trigger Warnings: Parental Neglect, Parental Abuse, Panic Attacks, Self Harm, Self Harm Scars, Period Typical Homophobia (slight)

↳ Keep reading below for a sneak peek!

Summary: After an altercation with his dad, Steve hides away in the pantry in his kitchen and calls for help on the walkie-talkie. Luckily, Eddie is awake and comes to the rescue, stealing Steve away to stay at the Munsons’ until it’s safe for Steve to go back. Steve hates when either of his parents come home to visit, especially when it’s his dad. It feels ridiculous to say but Steve thinks he’d rather face another Demogorgon.

A Demogorgon will smell blood in the water and kill on sight, but Mr. Harrington has a habit of dragging it out and making sure his prey knows they’re bleeding. The monsters under the bed are nothing compared to the monsters down the hall, Steve’s an expert. He’s known for a long time now how messed up it all is, he knows he needs out, needs help, but it feels impossibly hard. It’s normal for him and he’s dealt with it this long, he just needs to tough it out until he can afford his own place.

It doesn’t occur to Steve that he has a plethora of people willing to fight monsters at his side, whether the monsters are from the Upside Down or his own home. With the help of his monster hunting crew, Steve escapes his parents and learns what love is really supposed to be.

#steddiebang24 #steddie #steddie big bang #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanart #steddie podfic #steve harrington #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steddiebang24 masterpost

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 9 months ago

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Part four of Mean Eddie x Reader series.

Part one Part Two Part Three

Minors shoo! Tiny hint of fluff, Wayne to the rescue, Eddie's po.v.

💌

Eddie is quiet when he isn't in Dungeon Master mode during the latest campaign. He's been like this for a while now and Gareth is worried.

He's sure it's something to do with you, observed the tension between you and Eddie earlier this week with Billy.

Gareth isn't the only one to notice this. Wayne does too. He knows his boy and every one of his moods, knows when something is eating at him. So when Eddie comes back from the campaign that night he's there with a smile and ready to listen.

"What's going on son? You okay? You're quiet and you ain't been quiet since you learned how to talk" Eddie smiles faintly and grabs a beer from the fridge, Wayne pretends not to notice this and grabs one for himself.

"There's this girl I've been seeing and she... We... I thought we were just this casual thing but she wants more and we ended things but I... Shit I miss her uncle Wayne" he says it all in a rush and Wayne listens intently.

"You'll fix things son. Just gotta give it some time" Wayne pats his shoulder and Eddie feels his whole body relax. Wayne's always been the one to calm him down when his emotions got to big, when he needed to soothe the chaos in his mind.

Well his mom did that too but it's been so long without her now, the memories are vague and he clings on to the things he can remember, the smell of her perfume, the way he felt safe and protected when she held him and those big brown eyes that were so much like his own.

For a moment he gives into the memories then speaks again, comes back to the present and the mess he's made with you. At first when the two of you stopped seeing each other he assumed he'd be fine and move on.

Big mistake. He missed you and your laugh and the way you would listen enraptured to his stories, asked him to make ones up for you all the time.

It snuck up on him but he began missing the smell of your perfume and the way you would play with his hair when the two of you were wrapped up together after incredible sex. Or the sweetness you showed to him even when he was a grumpy ass if he was in the middle of a campaign.

Eddie even missed the way you would excitedly tell him the latest gossip about Jason and his band of buttheads, and he missed the way your eyes lit up and you would smile when Eddie couldn't help but be tender with you, the way he would hold you for a few seconds and feel comfortable and relaxed with you.

Fuck he was a major douchebag.

"I don't know if I can. I messed up and said stupid shit, I made her cry", his hands tighten on his mug as the thought of your tears physically pains him. Wayne gives him a "son, I love you but I'm disappointed with you" look and Eddie's stomach sinks. He hates disappointing Wayne.

"Boy I raised you better than to mess around with girls hearts. You gotta stop moping around and apologise to her for being such an idiot. She obviously means something to you if you're missing her like this"

As always Wayne was right and Eddie was anxiously wondering if you would even accept his apology. Would you move on to Billy who was always flirting with you? Or maybe Steve. Steve didn't make girls cry, he treated them like princesses.

That's what he was going to do with you, treat you like a princess. Swallow his pride and admit he fucked up.

Well if you ever spoke to him again he would.

...

You're late for school on Monday and rush to your locker. It doesn't even register that there's something stuffed into your locker that wasn't there before. Doesn't register until the pretty wildflowers fall to the floor.

Gently you pick them up and find them tied together with a simple black hair tie.

Eddie's hair tie.

🫶

...

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader #eddie munson

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disjointed-art · 1 year ago

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Pages 13&14 of Catch my breath Part 2:sprout

—

Gareth to the rescue? These boys need to figure out their shit!

—

Tw: coughing fit similar to an asthma attack so Gareth gives his inhaler thinking it’s asthma (don’t do this irl!)

Twitter poll won to post this a day early so I can read all your comments while I recover from surgery Tuesday 🥰💕

Hanahaki comic in full

#fanart #steddie #steddie fanart #fanartist #stranger things fanart #illustration #steve harrington #digital artist #illustrator #eddie munson #steddie comic #digital fanart #fan comic #steddie hanahaki comic #hanahaki au #hanahaki illness #hanahaki comic #hanahaki

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steviesbicrisis · 1 year ago

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The truth about Billy

[TW: Racism. There's nothing explicit but it's implied, especially knowing how Billy acted in the show.]

Steve's rescue Party comes through.

Gareth the Matchmaker (14/?) - AO3

Prev | Next

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

Hello everyone!!! As some of you guessed, it's Max (and the rest of the party) who tells the truth to the public. In the video she goes into full detail about the abuse she endured from Billy and the way he acted when she started dating Lucas; Steve protected them like it happened in the show but he wasn't beaten up that badly (just a black eye maybe).

Other things: Robin is extremely jet-lagged and she totally picks up a fight with Eddie for no reason. The next CC single will truly be about how they almost disbanded because they're dramatic like that

We're very close to the end!! I think it will be only two updates left. Thank you for enjoying it so far, let me know what you think <3

⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣⌣

Different ways to follow this story: Follow me | Turn the notifications on for this post | Subscribe on AO3 | Follow the tags #GTM updates #gareth the matchmaker | Check my pinned post

If you wanna be a part of this story as a fan, let me know!

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thekatebridgerton · 20 days ago

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Today on another episode of my ' on a scale of 1 to 8 series'

'On a scale of 1 to 8 how well do the Bridgerton love interests handle getting kidnapped by Bridgerton enemies '

1) Kate: handles it the best out of everyone, she provokes her captors, steals a gun, shoots her way out of danger and waits for rescue with her captors tied up and terrified. She's not in danger, she's tired, hungry and pissed off. She's THE danger.

2) Simon: choses to not engage in violence, he negotiates his own ransom because he's rich, they either let him go or he finds a way to steal a phone/ escape and proceeds to call the cops, overall he's pretty chill

3) Michael: chaotic good, he's mildly angry at the situation. He somehow gets out of his restraints, and does a whole home alone booby trap operation on his captors to make them wish they'd let him go when they had a chance. He was in the army so he knows his stuff. He walks out of this, still very annoyed

4) Penelope: mildly agitated but not that concerned about her own safety. She's the type to make a dummy that looks like her, put it in the bed and sneak out of her cell, and run away from her captors. There's a benefit to being used to passing unnoticed, she knows how to be invisible, so she escapes silently. She gets rescued after spending a night hiding in the woods

5) Sophie: she's so far down the list because Sophie actually believes her kidnappers are #people, paid to kidnap her. She's agitated, but she reverse Stockholm syndroms her situation, she makes her captors empatize with her and talks them into either letting her go or putting her up in better accomodations until she gets rescued.

6) Phillip: he's quite agitated and very aware that his best bet is to stay put. So he punches a couple of captors, secretly steals a gun as a plan B, and waits for Eloise to rescue him. I feel like Phillip would rather kill the least ammount of people possible with the gun he stole. So he plays good hostage. The captors do not treat him well but Phillip is honestly more afraid of a pissed off Eloise than he is of his kidnappers.

7) Gareth: he's highly panicked, chaotic evil, going through a series of very not good emotions. He makes himself such an annoying pain in the butt for his kidnappers that by the time he's rescued his kidnappers are begging to be released from their suffering.

8) Lucy: so far down the list because she doesn't actually believe she's being kidnapped, thinks this is a roleplay prank played by Gregory. Her captors think she's delulu because she keeps insisting this is just like her last wedding. Lucy gets rescued and Gregory lets her think she was never actually in any danger, because the alternative would be an annoyed Lucy. And he hates that.

So what do you think of my ranking dear readers? Do you think someone should have been higher or lower in the list? Let me know.

#bridgerton #on a scale of 1 to 8 #kate sharma #penelope fetherington #sophie beckett #phillip crane #simon basset

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steddieunderdogfics · 5 months ago

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Eddie's Big Stevie Rescue by LadyKailitha

@ladykailitha

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

3,647 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Tags: Hurt Steve Harrington, Getting Together, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Steve gets drugged, Gareth Has a Twin, No underage drinking, I promise

Summary:

Eddie goes out for a night on the town with Gareth in tow. Just as he's about to leave, Steve literally falls into his lap. Steve's been slipped something. Something bad. Now it's up to Eddie and Gareth to get Steve out of there before whoever is trying to hurt him comes back.

Thanks for the rec! This recommendation is apart of our Writer's Wednesday! All of the recs today are written by @ladykailitha. Want to nominate an author? Fill out this form!

You can submit fic recs to our asks or the submission box!

#writer's spotlight #steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #getting together #hurt/comfort

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lovemesomeeddiemunson · 7 months ago

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The Proposal - Part 3

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 3 of 7. 5166 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack. Minor spoilers for Flight of Icarus.

Authors Note: It should be noted that this is a fully completed fic, I've just broken it up for ease of posting. I can AND WILL be motivated to post faster, if readers find themselves engaged lol 😂

They had reached some semblance of normalcy by the time they landed. Slipping into their roles.

Wayne is waiting for them when they get off the plane, smiling huge when he and Eddie spot each other in the crowd, the latter immediately bolting for his uncle, leaving a bewildered Steve a few paces behind.

“Uncle Wayne,” he says happily as the old man receives him in a tight hug, and damn. It’s been too long.

“Hey Ed,” he greets with a chuckle, pulling back to get a good look at him. Clicking his tongue. “Don’t they have food in New York? You’re all skin and bones.”

Eddie laughs. “I’m eating good Wayne, promise.”

Wayne gives a shake of his head. “We’ll get you a Big Mac or something on the way.”

Steve, who's gotten close enough to hear now, is baffled by what he hears. In the Harrington home, Steve was often critiqued for how much he ate. Even in peak sports season - food was a means for fuel only, and carefully regulated.

Steve carried the guilt of it around with him even now - years later, and while he indulges himself in his morning lattes, he never let it go so far as to eat fast food.

But here Wayne offered it up to Eddie unthinkingly, the offer laced with kindness.

Steve finds it hard to wrap his head around.

Noticing him standing there in silence, Wayne glances his way, and Eddie whirls around then too. “Oh!” He blurts.

“Steve, honey, this is my uncle Wayne.” Eddie introduces.

Steve sticks a hand out to shake automatically, his smile plastered on as he tells him, “Pleasure.”

Wayne smiles back. “Well hello there…Now do you prefer to be called Steve or uh, Harbinger of Souls? I’ve heard it both ways…Actually I’ve heard it a lot of ways.”

Steve’s eyes widen as Eddie elbows his uncle, no malice to it. “Hey, come on now.” He complains.

Even despite this, the older man’s smile doesn’t falter, and he laughs good-naturedly. “I’m kidding. Mostly. It’s good to have you, Steve. I was surprised when Eddie said you’d be coming along.”

“Right, uh. I’m sure…Thank you for allowing me to be part of your birthday this weekend.” Steve manages.

Wayne waves his niceties off, wrapping his arms around his boy once again and ushering him along as they head to baggage claim.

Once there, Eddie rescues Steve’s things and piles them up neatly, muttering on the last bag for only him to hear, “You’re gonna wanna use your legs to lift that one,” Before turning and slapping his hands together.

“Where did you park?” He asks his uncle as he abandons Steve to his luggage.

Wayne looks miffed at seeing it, “Eddie! Help him with those!” He huffs, having thought he’d brought up a respectable gentleman.

Eddie pouts. “I’d love to, but he won’t let me do anything, uncle Wayne. He insists on doing it all by himself…So big and strong.” He sighs.

Wayne looks at Steve, unconvinced. Steve fakes a smile at him and gets his bags in hand.

Eddie chooses then to launch into a rapid-fire round of catching up with his uncle, telling him “Gareth and Jeff send their love, and presents, by the way.”

Wayne looks fond, “Ah, how are they? I ran into Gareth’s mom at Melvald’s the other day - she says since he left he never calls. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I know how well he’s doing since my kid keeps in touch.” He chuckled softly, the two of them talking more while the three of them head out.

Once they reach Wayne’s truck, Steve piles his things into the truck bed as Wayne offers for Eddie to get behind the wheel.

He takes him up on it, Wayne riding shotgun and Steve sitting in the back seat of the cab, melding silently into the seats. Answering when spoken to, in a friendlier manner than Eddie expected.

So far so good.

They do hit a fast food place on the way, and when it becomes apparent that Steve is completely out of his element, Wayne insists on getting a bunch of different stuff for him to try. Refusing to let Steve pay.

The three men sit in a booth with cracked red leather, Steve sipping a milkshake and downing so many fries that he’s sure he’ll die, but Eddie is feeding them to him, being all cute and domestic and Steve would rather perish than give Eddie a reason to stop.

Finally, Wayne clears his throat to interrupt the pair of them. “So uh, I was thinking…and uh, you boys don’t have to indulge an old man in his wishes, but-” And his voice is soft and humble, and Steve’s heart goes out to him.

“What is it?” He asks, at near the same time Eddie questions, “What is it, uncle Wayne?”

Wayne scratches his head. “Well now, I know you’re only in town for the weekend, but I was just thinking…that nice hotel you booked is a bit of a ways outside of Hawkins…and I see so little of you as it is…Well, I was wondering if you two wouldn’t mind staying in your old room. So we can spend the extra time together.”

Wayne gives Steve a look - like a kicked puppy, all sweet and innocent and Steve is helpless to turn him down. He looks to Eddie and finds that the other man is already looking at him - with a very similar kicked puppy look that makes his heart thud traitorously.

Not wanting to dwell on that, he dwells instead on a decision that was presented to him.

Considering that being in Wayne’s home means being under his scrutiny, he knows that the pair of them will have to be continually convincing. Something that Eddie doesn’t seem put off by, and so he chooses not to be either.

“Well, I don’t see why not.” Steve says finally before Eddie’s wobbly lip really does finish him off.

At his words Eddie whoops, and the sound, particularly when paired with Wayne’s crinkly-eyed smile, fuels a wildly unfamiliar fuzzy feeling in Steve’s gut. Something homey.

He could get used to it.

Later, Wayne uses the bathroom and Steve and Eddie toss their trash, meandering back to the truck as Eddie sighs. “I feel like I should warn you before we get home.”

Uh oh. “Yeah?” Steve asks him.

Eddie purses his lips. “When uncle Wayne said we would stay in my bedroom…it’s the only bedroom. We live in a single bedroom trailer. In a trailer park.”

Steve stares at Eddie - confused, baffled even, but not for the reason Eddie might think. “And…you’re telling me this…why?”

“I don’t want you to react poorly when we get there.” Eddie snaps back. And Steve feels that earlier feeling in his gut - the warmth - shrivel up and die. He clenches his jaw, back ramrod straight.

“I won’t.” He says quietly. Yanking the door to the back of the truck open and sliding in, shutting it aggressively behind him but not quite slamming it.

Eddie gets into the passenger seat and fiddles with his metal chain, Wayne hopping in the truck shortly after, oblivious to the mood between the two men as they get back on the road.

They arrive at the trailer park in the early afternoon, and Eddie’s spirits are lifted to see that everything is exactly the same, down to the ratty old couch he and Wayne used to share cigarettes on.

Steve, for his part, doesn’t bat an eye. Once they’re parked in the driveway he announces “I’ll get the bags,” going to grab them and taking too many in hand, his muscles flexing under his dress shirt that’s now got a dollop of ketchup on it.

Eddie isn’t too proud to admit how fucking sexy it is.

As Steve moves, Wayne heads around to the back of the trailer with a quick comment about watering his plants, but Eddie knows he’s really giving them both a moment alone to settle in.

Once they have, their things - or rather, mostly Steve’s things - piled into his room, they take it all in.

Even with all they brought, there’s space to spare, the room still mostly bare but for the bed. All cleaned out as Eddie had left it years ago, his posters lingering that Wayne must have kept up. Clearly never having resumed ownership of the room, something that stirs Eddie’s heart a bit.

Running from the thought of anyone loving him enough to save a place for him, Eddie clears his throat, taking advantage of the fact that they’re alone for now. Tells Steve, “I owe you an apology.”

Steve looks surprised. “What for?”

“When I assumed - about the trailer, it’s just…” he starts.

“Oh. That.” Steve waves a hand, dismissing Eddie as he often does. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it.”

Eddie’s eyebrow raises. “You do?”

Steve nods, “Yeah. I can be pretty…”

“Pretentious? Snobby?” Eddie volunteers.

“Particular.” Steve glares.

Eddie winces. “Right.”

“All in all, I can see why you said what you said. And now that the heat of the moment has passed, I’m not upset.” He swears.

“You’re not?” Eddie confirms.

Steve nods again, hums softly. “The trailer is fine. Really. And I mean, I’m not thrilled about the cancellation fee for the hotel-” he quips, but Eddie shakes his head in answer.

“Don’t worry about that. I canceled in plenty of time.” He promises.

Steve is confused at that, “You- but you only knew we would be staying with your uncle today.”

Eddie just smiled sheepishly, and understanding washed over Steve. “No you didn’t.” He says.

Eddie shrugs. “No, I didn’t.”

“How long-“ Steve starts.

“Wayne asked me about it before we left. But I knew you’d be all whiny about it if I asked you, so, I asked him to whip out some of the old ‘Munson-charm.’” Eddie chuckles. “I knew even you couldn’t say no to him. He’s like, stupidly endearing. Old bastard.”

Eddie sounds so fond, Steve can’t even find it in him to be mad. Or to correct him on how it was his puppy dog eyes that he’d found stupidly endearing. Even so. “That’s a rotten trick.”

Eddie gave a mocking curtsy. “I know that you are used to finer comforts, my lord, but I pray that my humble abode might please thee, until we might return to your luxurious castle.”

Steve is unamused, glancing around with a neutral expression. Changing the subject. “How long has it been…since you’ve been home?” He asks.

“Too long.” Eddie sighs.

He’s taking that in. Examining his surroundings. Eddie tries to soothe his worry, tells himself that this is fine, definitely not comparing himself to a bug beneath a magnifying glass, no sir…

Steve moves closer to the wall then, taking in the handmade Corroded Coffin banner proudly displayed. “This is your band. The one from the demo. You’ve been together this long?”

“Since high school. In some form or another.” He kicks his shoes off then, getting comfortable, slides them into the closet where a few hangers linger, and his old acoustic.

“Oh!” He pulls it out, the body adorned with ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’ in a crooked scrawl. “Forgot about this.”

He sits on the bed with it, tuning it to give himself something to do with his hands as his boss turns and leans against the wall of the bedroom he occupied in adolescence, arms crossed, scrutinizing him.

“This is good.” Eddie rambles at his piercing gaze, taking his guitar pick off his necklace to use. “That’s something you should know. You should ask me more stuff like that.”

When Eddie plays a chord, the sound that emerges is pure and clear and perfectly in tune. Walking his ﬁngers up the fretboard, he picks out a bare-bones acoustic take on the intro to "Number of the Beast."

Steve stares at his hands. “Okay. So, why music?"

It's such an oblique question that Eddie has to give up on Iron Maiden for a full 30 seconds as he tries to ﬁgure out what he means. "Everyone likes music."

"Not everyone likes it the way you do." He cocks his head thoughtfully. "But I’ll rephrase. Why this music?"

Eddie laughs a little, strums some more. "Because it's badass,"

"Sure.” Steve dismisses, once the sound has died away. "But that's not the only reason, right?"

Eddie glances up at him, inquisitive.

He huffs a sigh. "Help me out here, Eddie. If I'm gonna sell this package, I need you to give me something to work with. Something real."

Ah. Leave it to Steve to be all business. Even now.

Fine.

Eddie could give him real. So he thinks…Why music? Why this music? He ﬂips his pick around in his ﬁngers as he tries to put his thoughts in some kind of order.

He'd never thought hard about it before Steve asked him. For 26 years of his life, music has just kind of... been. Like eating, breathing, taking a piss...music. Listening to it, playing it, talking about it. Grinding away for a chance to get it out there someday…It's a fact of life. But why?

"My mom." He murmurs. He’s not actually sure he means to say it. It just kind of comes out. He presses on anyway. "My dad was the one who taught me how to play guitar, but my mom, uh." He clears his throat. "She was living in Memphis when she met my dad. She'd grown up there, 19 years surrounded by music, everywhere she went. Country, bluegrass, rock...but her favorite was blues. Like, Chicago blues, the hard kind that gets into your bones, you know?"

Steve had relaxed a bit as he answered. "Yeah."

"So - when she left, when she moved up to Indiana, she took the music with her. It's like a nine-hour drive from Memphis to Hawkins, and she and my dad spent all of that time squeezed into a tiny car with 20 boxes of records. And then when I was born, she started sharing those records with me."

He’s still plucking out a tune, but it's not Iron Maiden anymore. It's a Muddy Waters riff, and as it fills the small space, Eddie can hear the static from his Mom's record player buzzing underneath, as familiar and comfortable as an old sweater.

His voice turns bitter as he recalls not having those records to listen to anymore. “She called them her plane tickets. Even when she was stuck in Hawkins," Waiting on her husband to come home from some dumbass scheme, Eddie thinks. "That music told stories. It helped her see the world."

He looks at the roof, water stained, and much safer than the man here with him.

"I didn't get it when I was a kid," he goes on. "All I heard on those records were people singing about sadness, about how shitty life was. And then, uh. She got sick and died. When I was like 6. I got it then."

Eddie pauses. Typically there's a chorus of sympathetic crooning following that reveal, one that sets his teeth on edge. But Steve is still and silent, watching him. Listening.

So Eddie gives him something to listen to. The guitar line for Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" trips off his ﬁngers, half blues and half metal, and it might be his imagination, but Eddie thinks he can see the ghost of approval, of a smile, on the corners of Steve’s mouth.

"I like this music because it's about sadness and how shitty life is. And things are sad, life is shitty. It's real. But also, it tells stories. This music takes you on an adventure, to another world where you're, like, facing down demons. Traveling into the depths of hell. My mom's music was plane tickets. I guess that makes my music a portal to another dimension."

"You like it because it's badass," Steve fills in the blanks.

"I like it because it's really fucking badass." He ﬁnishes the riff and lets his hand fall away. "Is that real enough for you?"

Steve isn’t smiling, not really, but there’s a glow in his eyes, radiance that has nothing to do with the light. He says, “I think I can work with that.”

Wayne opens the front door more loudly than he needs to then, and a few beats later he’s standing in the doorway to Eddie’s old room, his expression soft.

“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.” He says, seeing Eddie, in his room, with his guitar.

Eddie plays him an exaggerated song with full body movement, that Steve quickly makes out to be ‘Hot Cross Buns.’

Wayne laughs. “Feel free to get settled in kids, the party’s not for a few hours.”

Eddie and Steve offer him passable enthusiasm, and then Wayne is retreating to the living room. Eddie sets the guitar to the side. “You can hang in here if you want, we’ll probably just kick it on the couch. Watch some TV or something. I can tell him your jet lagged.”

“From a less than 3 hour flight?” Steve snorts. “No, but, thank you.” It sounds genuine.

Steve strides out of the room, beating Eddie to the couch, and taking a seat on it. At seeing where he’d chosen to sit, Eddie groans and Wayne winces.

Steve blinks in surprise. “What’d I do?” He asks.

Wayne’s expression becomes playful, “That there’s Ed’s seat.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking at Eddie with an almost smile, but not quite. Just enough to take the bite out of his words when he tells him, “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s optimal seating, Stevie.” Eddie whines. At his graveness, Steve moves to adjust himself, really wiggling into the cushion. “Huh. Now that you mention it, I see what you mean. Great choice on my part, really.”

Eddie gawks at him, spluttering. “You’re - you’re still sitting there?”

“So I am.” Steve is cocky. So cocky. Eddie loves to hate it.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie clarifies. Wayne is looking between the two of them with amusement.

A shake of Steve’s head. Eddie gives a faux gasp. “Not even for the love of your life?” He squawks.

Steve just raises an eyebrow, looking around. “Is the love of my life in the room with us?”

“Sacrilege!” Eddie shouts, before launching himself onto the couch beside Steve, gracelessly trying to manhandle the younger man out of his seat.

Steve is stronger than he looks though, and within minutes what should have ended with Eddie depositing him on the floor, makes way instead for Steve to maintain his ground, his powerful thighs locked around Eddie’s waist, keeping him from getting Steve off of the couch without taking himself out too.

Wayne is laughing nearly hysterically at watching them both wrestle, Steve spitting Eddie’s hair out of his mouth while Eddie wishes a plague on Steve and all his houses, tickling his sides, Steve fucking licking his neck to get him to stop.

And even then, it’s only when both men are on the floor, pushing and shoving to reclaim the lost territory, that Eddie knows he’s beaten.

Steve, powerhouse that he is, is fucking laughing. Actually truly laughing.

And damn it if Eddie doesn’t fall flat on his face, catching his breath yes but also - just fucking taking that fact in for a second.

“Victory!” Steve shouts as he sits once again in Eddie’s seat.

Eddie pops up, resting his head on his elbows, nearly panting like a dog. “You have bested me. I concede.”

Steve laughs again, face flushed and his once perfect hair all in disarray, and Eddie wonders if this is what he looks like after - Okay, nope. Nope. Between the wrestling and the neck licking - Eddie needs to think of gross, unsexy things, immediately. Lest he become visibly riled up in front of his surrogate father and his fake fiancé.

In that spirit, Eddie claims another part of the couch, groaning and oh yeah he’s in terrible shape.

Wayne chortles and flips through channels on the TV now that the commotion has died down, settling on an NBA game when Steve’s interest is piqued. “Oh, basketball, nice.”

“You’ like sports?” Wayne is surprised. Eddie is decidedly…not a sports guy.

Steve has the decency to look bashful. “I’m not like a super-fan or anything. We moved to the States when I was in high school and I got recruited for the basketball team. Coach would play us tapes. I only know the teams I like.”

“Who’s your favorite?” Wayne asks him.

“Probably the Knicks.” Steve answers.

“Get out of my house.” Wayne is not at all serious.

Steve laughs again. “Is that the wrong answer?”

“This here, is a Pacer’s family, kid. Ed, what are you doing? You dating your boss who’s run you ragged the last few years I can excuse - but I can’t tolerate a man who likes the Knicks.” He holds his hand to his heart.

Steve is starting to see where Eddie gets his…dramatic flair. He can’t wipe the smile from his face.

Eddie sighs, just as playful. “Well it’s a bit too late to kick him to the curb now, uncle Wayne.”

At that Steve glances at Eddie. Tries to communicate with his eyes. Is he going to…?

“Why?” Wayne chuckles. “You get’ him pregnant?”

Steve flushes. Eddie laughs. “Nah, nothing like that. But uh…we are getting married.”

Wayne freezes. Steve doesn’t miss it - for a solid few seconds the man has gone stiff, unmoving. Not even a dropped jaw or raised eyebrow. Totally and completely offline.

Steve can’t breathe. He vaguely feels Eddie take his hand. Squeeze. He inhales.

And then…Wayne smiles. Nice and slow, and fucking big. His eyes are twinkling. “Really?” He asks.

Eddie nods. “Really.”

Wayne jumps to his feet, smacking his knee. “Hah!” He’s absolutely fucking giddy. “Well how about that! We have double reasons to celebrate tonight it seems! My boy’s getting married!”

He wraps them both in a hug, and Steve is still fucking, just - paralyzed. No longer in fear, but something entirely different. Something that wants to creep up from behind his eyelids, wrapping its way around his throat.

Wayne pulls back from them, and he sniffles. Wayne clocks it immediately, “You alright there, son?”

Son.

“My uh,” he wheezes out. “My parents, they never…they wouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” He tilts his head back, unblinking and pinching his thigh, until he gets himself under control.

Then he smiles at Wayne with watery eyes, having missed the look the older man had given his nephew. “Sorry.” Steve laughs shakily.

Wayne hugs him again. “Don’t you worry about it, Steve. We aren’t worried about displays of emotion in this house. You should have heard Ed wailing when they freed Willy.”

A laugh bursts out of Steve, and Eddie gives Wayne a look of complete and utter betrayal, whining. “Wayne…”

To which his uncle merely offers him a shit-eating grin, Steve halfheartedly defending, “That scene got me as a kid too.”

“He was 19.” Wayne clarifies.

“Wayne!” Eddie is full on shouting now. “Oh my god stop talking or I swear when you get old I’m putting you in a home!”

Offended, Wayne barks back. “My new son-in-law Steve would never let that happen!” Shaking his head, he mutters in Steve’s general direction. “Unbelievable. Threatening to commit me, and on my birthday no less. Where is the respect?”

Eddie groans, but he apologizes, he and Wayne bickering quite happily, all while Steve’s gut feeling grows into an even more confusing tangle.

Thinking to himself that it was certainly going to be an interesting weekend here in Indiana.

That night as the trio arrives at a VFW that had been rented out by some of the gentlemen at the plant Wayne works for, Steve is mildly surprised to see the parking lot packed with cars.

Eddie glances at Steve’s expression with a little chuckle. “Small town.” He explains. “Everyone knows everyone.”

Add to that the fact that his uncle was also very well loved, and it makes for quite an uproarious slew of greetings when the three of them enter, the fake couple quickly losing Wayne to a swarm of hugs and well wishes.

By the time he’s passed back around, he’s got lipstick marks on both cheeks, in varying shades, and Eddie laughs and shoves at him playfully. “You dog!”

He rolls his eyes, “Come with me boys, there’s some people who want to say hi.”

Wayne leads them over to a table where Steve witnesses a gaggle of no less than half a dozen teenagers gathered. Most of them make no effort to hide how they lose their collective minds when they see Eddie.

The tallest of them, a teen with long black hair, is the most aggressive in his attempts to get to him, nearly elbowing a curly haired kid with a row of endearingly imperfect teeth, who complains extra hard at that because of something that he calls his cleidocranial dysplasia.

Whatever that means, it gains him the lead of the queue, the others groaning at his words and holding their hands up, letting him pass.

Behind them, a wide eyed girl looks on in amusement while her two companions - a redhead toying with a skateboard that probably shouldn’t be on the table, and another girl wearing an American flag like a cape, appear uninterested.

Eddie hugs the curly haired kid enthusiastically, greeting, “Henderson! You haven’t changed man.”

He scoffs. “Of course I haven’t, you specifically, asked me not to.” Eddie laughs at whatever that calls to mind, patting him on the back, and Steve decides that he likes this kid.

Eddie takes a half a step back then, and the kid squawks at Eddie’s shirt as he ignores it in favor of beckoning Steve closer. “Children, gather.” Never mind that they’re already encroaching on the men’s space as it is.

Eddie addresses Steve, “Allow me to introduce you to my…flock of little lost sheep.” He snickers, pointing as he introduces them. “This is Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas - the one who looks innocent but could probably crush your head through sheer force of will is Will’s twin sister Jane - that’s Max next to her, and then there’s my undisputed favorite, Lucas’s sister, Erica.”

The kids all groan at his declaration, all apart from Erica who smirks in a familiar, bitchy way at them. And Steve likes her too. A fine choice in favorite, he thinks.

“Kids, this is Steve.” Eddie introduces.

“Steve.” Max repeats his name with a raised eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“Steve.” Eddie parrots as he nods, while Wayne adds proudly from behind them, “Eddie’s fiancé.”

The kids all stifle in shock - Mike blurting, “Wait. Evil-boss-Steve? Evil-boss-Steve is his fiancé?”

Steve wants to groan. His reputation precedes him.

“Hah!” Dustin, who is also the ‘Henderson’ kid, laughs. “Boom!” The exclamation echoes as he points at his friends. “Bada…bada…boom. I told you he had a crush on him. You guys totally owe me $20.”

“No one made that bet with you, man.” Lucas rolls his eyes.

“I’m happy for you, Eddie,” Jane smiles before looking hopefully at Steve. “Does this make you our new mom?”

Steve has to laugh, bewildered and also pleased to see Eddie flustered by not only Henderson selling him out - but by the question as well.

“Oh he’s such a mom.” Erica supplies. “Look at him. He has the hips for it.”

Steve’s laughter becomes a knowing smirk. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Erica.”

She smiles - more of a show of teeth than anything. And Eddie has to skip over that interaction while the kids hit him with a million questions a minute. He waves them off. “Another time, kids. I’d much rather hear what you all have been up to.”

That starts another round of talking over each other, and Wayne gently grabs Steve by his elbow in order to lead him away from the commotion.

“Best give them a minute.” He chuckles. Steve tries to decide if he can ask - if he should know-

“Ed didn't mention his old club, huh?” Wayne asks him. He doesn’t sound surprised. Steve is mildly relieved, shaking his head.

Wayne sounds fond, “Yeah, used to run it in high school. They’d spend hours wrapped up in that tabletop roleplaying game - Dungeons and Dragons? Ed was the leader. The kids were devastated when he finally graduated and moved away. He left Dustin in charge, but it's not the same, you know? They missed him.”

Steve glances back - sees them animatedly talking and laughing with Eddie, and his heart. Oh his poor heart.

He would never admit it but…He’d always wanted six kids. Six little nuggets and a Winnebago to house them all and drive across the country, all crammed together, making memories…And here Eddie had fucking…seven children, who clearly adored him, calling Steve mom. It messed him up a little bit.

“Bob! Joyce!” Wayne calls, snapping him out of it. “Meet Steve, he’s Eddie’s fiancé.” Steve kinda likes how Wayne keeps saying it - proud, but factual. Like ‘he’s Eddie’s fiancé’ is his last name now.

He embraces it - out to charm the room. Working his way through it with Wayne, the whole place positively buzzed at the engagement news.

Besides the children, it seems that no one else was aware of his prior relationship with Eddie, and Steve is met with open arms and drinks bought for him just as readily as they do Wayne, who, unlike Steve, never declines, having the time of his life.

By the time Steve leaves him in a chair with a cup of water and makes it back to Eddie, he’s a little flushed at the effort he exerted to get Wayne settled there. That, and at all the well wishes being freely and genuinely offered. Those actually had left him feeling pretty good.

Eddie looks amused by it. “Having a good time?” He asks.

“Hawkins loves me, what can I say?” Steve shrugs in reply.

Eddie grins at him, voice spilling out sweetly as he says. “As do I.”

Steve does a double-take before he realizes that there’s an older woman lingering at a desert table within earshot, and replies automatically. “Love you too.”

That makes Eddie roll his eyes, where no one can see, moving in and leading Steve away from the woman with a hand on his lower back. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that, Harrington.” He purrs in his ear.

Steve is…affected. He clears his throat, asking. “And what would you have me do?”

Eddie has led them through the entranceway to a small hallway that clearly leads to the bathrooms, where they stop, Eddie leaning against the wall.

He’s looking at Steve, who can’t get a read on him, until he suddenly hits him with, “You should kiss me.”

Steve gapes at him. “What?”

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

Text

Staking My Claim Part 6

And here we are! The end of this sweet little story. I had a blast writing it and I enjoyed all the comments and tags. Thank you so much.

We get to the "is this set after canon or a no monster AU *shrugs* could be either" part of the story.

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3| Part 4|Part 5

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

***

When he woke up next it was dark out and his stomach was growling. As he sat up he could smell the warm heat of something cooking in the kitchen. He went to the bathroom and washed his hands. He knew he should brush his teeth and he vaguely remembered Eddie saying something about a spare around here somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where. And he really, really didn’t want to go rummaging through the drawers.

He gave up and decided to do it after dinner and have Eddie show him where it was.

He ran his fingers through his hair to tame the tousled look to something more respectable. He really didn’t think it worked. He had slept with it wet and it would take getting it wet and washed before he could properly tame it.

Jeff grinned at him when he came stumbling out. “Just in time, man. Eddie’s making his famous spaghetti.”

“It smells heavenly,” he murmured.

“Just wait ‘til you taste it, Stevie,” Eddie said with a wide, happy smile. “It’ll blow your mind.”

Steve blushed. “You didn’t have to wait for me to eat, I could have reheated leftovers or something.”

Jeff and Eddie shared a grin.

“This is when we usually eat,” Jeff explained. “We were working on a song for our band earlier.”

“I’m our lyricist,” Eddie said. “Jeff is the composer. He takes my silly little words and turns them into songs.”

Steve nodded. “And you guys play at Cora’s Den?”

“The Hideout and Alleyways, too,” Jeff confirmed. “But yeah, Cora’s Den is our main spot though, which is why Mrs. Hughes pays for this apartment for us to stay at when we’re here.”

“I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around the fact that Gareth’s parents are rich enough to afford a three bedroom apartment in the middle of Indy for you guys to crash at whenever you want,” Steve admitted. “My parents would never do that.”

Eddie shrugged. “We knew Gareth’s family had money when he first started playing with us. No poor schmuck living in Forest Hills was going to buy their ten year old a drum kit and remain sane.”

“Yeah,” Jeff agreed. “We just didn’t know how much until he offered his parent’s garage to practice in. That place has better acoustics then most bars we’ve played in.”

“Just what do his parents do?” Steve asked in awe.

“They run those fancy boutiques for pets,” Eddie said. “They have five shops around the country. Here in Indy, Chicago, New York, LA...and what’s the other one?”

“Miami,” Jeff said.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “That’s it! They charge hundreds of dollars for rich morons to make their pets as pampered as possible.”

“That explains more than it doesn’t,” Steve sneered. “My parents hate animals. The thought of a pet treated better than they treat their own son would have driven them crazy.”

“Not even a goldfish in the Harrington household?” Jeff asked, cocking his head to the side.

Steve laughed bitterly. “And have the water spill on the perfect hardwood floors? Not likely.”

“Even I had a hamster at one point,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You are seriously missing out.”

“I’m hoping when I get a place of my own I’ll be able to get a cat,” he confessed.

“Aww...” Eddie said. “What kind?”

Steve shrugged. “Probably a rescue.”

Jeff and Eddie smiled softly.

“Sounds good, Steve,” Jeff murmured.

“Food is done!” Eddie said with a flourish. “Spaghetti in meat sauce.” He blinked for a moment. “You’re not vegetarian are you?”

Steve laughed. “No. You probably missed me tucking into the bacon and sausage for breakfast.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Oh right.”

He dished out the food on three plates and handed one to each of Jeff and Steve before grabbing his own plate and sitting on the other side of Steve.

They tucked into their meals and ate quietly. A testament to how good it tasted.

For Steve, it was warm and hearty, filling a void he didn’t know he had. Even when he was in high school, he didn’t have a lot of guy friends and while he loved the Party with all his heart, it wasn’t the same as hanging out with people his age.

Once they were done, Jeff did dishes. Eddie led him over to their large fluffy sofa.

Steve settled in, curled up to Eddie’s side as he talked with Jeff about the new song.

It had been so long since he felt this safe. Like if he drifted off to sleep right now, he would be protected.

And wasn’t that just something.

Eddie’s voice broke through his revery. “Hey, sweetheart. I think you’re falling asleep again.”

“Being drugged sucks.”

Jeff laughed. “It sounds like you’ve been drugged more than once, man.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other, then Steve winced.

“I may have angered a couple of Russian officers when I accidentally stumbled on their very illegal operation under the Starcourt Mall?” he said through gritted teeth.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “Considering how messed up Hawkins is, nothing surprises me anymore.”

Eddie and Steve huffed out a laugh.

“You’ve got that right,” Eddie said. “Come on, darlin’, let’s get you to bed.”

They got ready for bed and Steve finally got that toothbrush to brush his teeth. He washed his face and Eddie led him back to his bedroom.

Once Steve had gotten comfortable, he pulled Eddie to him before he could protest.

“You’re mine now,” Steve murmured happily. “I licked you. Remember?”

Eddie chuckled. “I guess finder’s keepers. I’ll happily be yours.”

They curled up on the bed and slept soundly knowing that they were heading back to Hawkins with more then the hookup they assumed it was going to be when Eddie first came to his aid.

And Steve couldn’t have been happier.

He was going to have to do something really nice for Robin as a thank you.

As he was falling to sleep, he felt Eddie lick the side of his face. He giggled and pressed their lips together. Eddie hummed happily.

“Love you, Stevie.”

“Love you, too, Eds.”

***

And if you saw this on Saturday, no you didn't. I hit post instead of schedule and it was not meant for human eyes yet.

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #corroded coffin

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