#final girl chrissy

[theladycarpathia]

What waits in the woods part 2

Running with a busted ankle sucks.

Being chased by a psychopath wielding an ax sucks even more.

Unfortunately, these are two very true facts of Eddie’s current situation.

“Go to summer camp,” Eddie mutters under his breath, dodging a low hanging tree branch at the last second. The woods surrounding Camp Starcourt aren’t meant for a desperate chase. They’d been warned their first day about the dangers of the woods from poison ivy to animal holes. It is a dark and creepy place befitting a horror movie and Eddie should have taken the warning and gotten on the first bus back to Hawkins. “Be a counselor, earn some money, it’ll be fun. Sure.” If he survives this, he’s going to give Uncle Wayne hell for those well-meaning words. His uncle had only wanted Eddie to spend a summer outside, instead of in darkened basements for once. How was he to know that the camp would be plagued by a narcissistic crazed killer with no problems about sticking a machete into a teen counselor?

He doesn’t know where anyone is. Last he saw Nancy, she was holding the line armed with the groundskeeper’s shotgun, so that Robin and Vicky could get the rest of the kids onto the bus and out. And he hasn’t seen Billy and Steve since the first murder. They could be anywhere across acres of land, out in the woods, by the lake or back at camp. They’d taken it upon themselves to go out and find anyone they could to tell them to get back to safety. Everyone else just had to bar the doors and wait in the mess hall. He’s not sure where it all went wrong.

The moon is steadily rising overhead, offering him just the faintest light shining down between the thick canopy of branches. It can only be a few hours since this started, but it’s hard to tell when it’s all been a blur of blood and metal and panic. He doesn’t know how many Mr Creel has butchered already. The kids who snuck off to swim in the lake, the nice Russian guy who worked in the mess hall, the counselors smoking weed in the woods. Ten? Twenty? How long can Eddie’s friends survive?

How long can he? 

Because let’s face it, Eddie Munson is no hero. And he fucked up his ankle on a tree root after he’d already offered to draw Henry away, so the chances are good that he’ll end up like Alexei, or Heather, or Troy. He’d only seen poor Alexei, a gushing red crater in his chest, slumped against the side of the arts and crafts cabin. But that was enough, even without Billy’s recollection of the foaming red water out by the lake, or Argyle’s hysteric return with Jonathan when they’d tripped over someone’s leg out in the woods. Just a leg. And then someone’s torso further over. A hand still clutching a joint. All that had been left of some of their fellow counselors was just a gruesome scattering of body parts around a makeshift campfire in a clearing.

He wonders if the bus has gone yet. He hopes his kids are all on it: he saw Dustin, Will and Lucas back at the mess hall. Erica had arrived not long after. But part of the reason Steve and Billy ventured out again was because Mike, El and Max were still missing. By the time they all realized that no one had seen them since dinner, it was too late.

He hopes they’re found. He also deeply pities anyone who might hurt those kids. He thinks of Billy setting up a tripwire, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, and Steve hammering nails into one of the bats from the sports shed. He thinks of Nancy loading rounds into the shotgun, face still tear-streaked from finding Barb’s body. Of Jonathan and Argyle out in the open, just so they can fuel up the bus, risking being cut down so that everyone can make an escape. 

He thinks that Henry Creel really picked the wrong fucking counselors to screw with. 

All except him. All he could do was run, and draw Henry’s attention. But if it gives Chrissy time to get away, it’ll be enough.

Jesus Christ, Chrissy. He hopes that she’s okay. If he does anything worthwhile with his life, let it be this. Let her get away. 

He hears the whistle behind him just in time and throws himself forward. The ax buries itself into the nearest tree, just mere inches from where his head had been. Gasping, Eddie tries to catch his breath, to pull himself up from the dirt and keep going. But a heavy boot comes down on his leg, pressing too close to his fucked ankle. He hisses in pain but twists his head around anyway.

“Honestly, Eddie,” Henry Creel says, shaking his head as though he’s caught Eddie with his hand in the cookie jar. He’s still dressed like he’s going to a business meeting, smart black slacks and a crisp white shirt. The only things out of place are the heavy workman boots he has on his feet - can’t wear anything too impractical when you’re hunting kids down in the woods, after all - and the streaks of blood smeared across his chest, his hands, his face. Eddie feels sick looking at it. It’s Barb’s blood. Angela’s blood. Carol’s blood. 

“Escaping? Not very brave of you,” Henry says, pursing his lips in disappointment. His eyes are ice cold, any of that affable personality wiped clean. It had all only ever been a mask, Eddie realizes. The nice man across the lake, who waved to the campers in their kayaks and read the newspaper on his front porch had been hiding this monster all along. 

“Had to try,” Eddie brazens, just in case. He doesn’t know who else is still out there, still fighting. If Henry is here, then maybe there’s time for the bus to leave. “Got separated from the others.”

“Oh yes,” Henry says, tilting his head. “I’ve encountered some of your fellows. Rather uncouth little bunch.” Eddie catches the pained wince, the fury passing over his eyes. Only then does he look down and notice the red seeping out of the stark black fabric. Eddie grins.

“Someone got you,” he says, and Henry’s face darkens.

“That nasty little girl took a shot at me,” and Eddie feels a flicker of pride. Nancy had shot him.

“You killed her friend,” Eddie says grimly, remembering the firm set of Nancy’s jaw. “You’re lucky you’re not dead.”

“I think it would take more than a petulant child with an old shotgun to kill me,” Henry spits. But it doesn’t matter - Nancy has rattled him, and the blood seeping out of his leg will have weakened him. It’s not enough to save Eddie but maybe Billy and the others will have a chance to. “And I’ve seen those two boys in the woods. All of you are fools and children.”

“That’s a serious fucking complex you have there,” Eddie quips and sucks in a breath as Henry presses down on his hurt ankle. “Seriously though, how the fuck are you going to explain all these dead kids? You’re covered in blood and the weirdo over the lake is going to be their first suspect.” Henry shrugs easily. He seems so unbothered by the lives he’s taken and the consequences of it all. Eddie feels bile in the back of his throat. This is someone truly, terrifyingly dangerous. 

“I’ll blame someone else,” Henry says, calmly. “I’ve done it before.”

Eddie looks up at him in horror. They all knew that the land had been sold to the camp owners by Henry, the last surviving Creel. He’d kept a good few acres over the other side of the lake, but had auctioned off the rest, a chunk to some farmers and the bulk of it for a summer camp. A few of the older counselors had heard a few stories about creepy Mr Creel, claiming that his his house was haunted and other dumb fireside theories. But one thing did ring true: the murder of his sister, Alice, twenty odd years ago.

“You killed your own sister?” Eddie croaks weakly, and Henry smiles. There’s no teeth but it’s the smile of a predator anyway.

“I did,” he says, with a long drawn out, almost pleasured sigh. “And I blamed one of the neighbor boys. Dug a knife into my shoulder and claimed he’d attacked me too. Not that it mattered. My parents knew full well I was the one who’d done it. They removed me from school and ensured that I was locked up at all times.”

“They knew?” Eddie says in disbelief. “But why didn’t they turn you in?”

“It was easier for them not to, I expect,” Henry says, inspecting the blood underneath his fingernails. He’s clearly not worried about Eddie escaping. Even with a shotgun wound, he could probably catch Eddie again in a matter of seconds. “Besides, the shame would have been too much. Your own son butchering his little sister in cold blood? They’d have been pariahs, even more so than for having a murdered child. So instead, I spent my formative years locked in the basement, being fed through a hatch, with only books and my spiders for company.”

“But your parents died,” Eddie says tentatively, and the second smile is more horrifying than the first.

“Oh yes,” Henry says, slowly. “They forgot to properly bolt my door one night. It was easy enough to pick the lock. And I inherited everything, obviously. No one ever knew it was me and I got the freedom I deserved.”

“And then you stopped?” Eddie asks, although even he can’t be foolish enough to not see the bloodlust in those pale eyes. He wouldn’t have stopped. Henry Creel is a monster that needs to feed on other people’s pain.

“Of course not,” says Henry, disdain dripping from every word. “But there’s many people that society won’t notice if they just…suddenly disappeared. Vagrants, drifters, loners. For years after my parents’ deaths, I made do. It was easier to not draw attention to myself.”

“What happened?” Eddie hears himself ask, no matter how badly he doesn’t want the answer. It won’t take back any of the death, knowing the truth won’t make any of it worth it. He doesn’t want to know any more reasoning behind Henry Creel’s sick mind. 

Henry looks at Eddie down his long, aristocratic nose. 

“You all couldn’t keep out,” he says coldly and pulls a long, serrated knife out of his belt. The jagged teeth are already mottled with rust-colored blood and the sight of it makes Eddie’s mouth dry with fear. “All you had to do was keep to your side of the lake. It was in the rules, and yet those children came over to my property. They found the bones buried by the well. They know what I’ve done, so I came over here to make them be quiet. But I couldn’t find them, so I’ll just keep cutting until I do.”

He angles the blade just enough for Eddie to catch sight of his terrified eyes in the reflection of it. 

“What children?” Eddie asks, already half sure of the answer. And sure enough, Henry had seen a long red ponytail vanishing away into the woods with her friends. Max, El and Mike. They’d found Henry’s macabre graveyard and because of it, he’s slaughtered his way across the campsite in search of them. He’ll make sure he kills them and then find someone to blame it on. Murray, the odd man who brings the supplies every Monday. Maybe he’ll blame one of the teens in the woods and hide the body so no one will ever know that they didn’t run away. Maybe he’ll murder Billy and claim the shotgun wound in his leg as evidence that Henry only just escaped from a madman. Billy with his jeans and cigarette smoke and matchbox temper would be an easy enough target to pin it all on. And anyone who knows Billy well enough to fight it would be dead.

And Eddie now knows the truth. There’s no way he can get out now.

He tries anyway, pulling against Henry’s hold but it only makes his ankle scream in pain. Eddie scrabbles against the grass, clawing against the mud with his fingernails, searching for anything to fight with. But it’s too late and Henry is leaning down over him, angling the blade to slice open his throat…

When the blade comes down, Eddie screams, the sound echoing across the dark woods. 

He and Henry stare at each other, frozen in a single, heavy second. Henry’s pale eyes are shocked and disbelieving. He opens his mouth to say something and a wet glob of blood comes out instead, dripping down his chin and onto Eddie’s camp shirt. Eddie looks at the knife clutched in Henry’s limp fingers and then up, past Henry, past the ax buried deep into his back and to the figure gripping the wooden handle with all her might.

Chrissy wrenches the ax free, and if Eddie hadn’t been in love before, he definitely is now. There’s a wild look in her eyes, mud and blood smeared across her cheek in equal measure. She’s still wearing his denim jacket that he’d slung across her shoulders to keep her warm. She raises the ax again, just as Henry twists around and with a primal scream, she buries the metal deep into the meat of his torso. She’s not the same girl that Eddie has spent all summer with, the one that made daisy chains and wore cute little scrunchies and dripped chocolate down her chin. She’s something wild and fierce, clenching her jaw in fury as she digs in the ax in further. Henry makes a choking sound, more blood dripping down his neck and the knife slips from his fingers to the ground. He drops to his knees and, finally free, Eddie wriggles back as fast as he can, kicking the knife away with his working foot for good measure.

But it’s not needed. Chrissy pulls the ax free once more, a terrible wet sound as it comes away from Henry’s body. Without it, Henry falls down to the ground. His eyes stare balefully at Chrissy as he takes a weak, gasping breath - once, twice, thrice…and then nothing. The murderer of Camp Starcourt is dead.

“Chrissy?” Eddie says and suddenly, the terrifying creature that had stood there wielding an ax is gone and she’s just Chrissy again. Only Chrissy.

“Are you okay?” she gasps, dropping the ax to the ground with a thud and hurrying over. He stares up at her, the moonlight softening her; every red curl, every eyelash, the brilliant blue of her eyes.

“Wow,” Eddie says, dumbfounded. 

“Eddie?” she prods, brow furrowed in concern, and Eddie curls his hand around her neck to pull her down to him. It’s not how he imagined their first kiss, lying on the forest floor, caked in pine needles and blood, with a busted ankle and a corpse cooling nearby, but it’s perfectly sweet no less. 

“Sorry,” Eddie babbles the minute they’ve pulled away. He’s not entirely sure what possessed him to kiss Chrissy Cunningham out of the blue - aside from the all consuming crush that’s choked him all summer, but that’s still no reason to not ask. “Shit, I’m really sorry.”

“What for?” she asks, tilting her head in confusion. Her eyes are bright, one hand curled into the loops of his jeans. This fact alone is enough to stall his brain.

“You’re taken,” Eddie explains slowly. Just in case she’s forgotten, but the last five hours have been pretty traumatic. “You’re dating Jason.” She gives a loud snort.

“Jason literally used me as a human shield, I think he’ll understand that we’ve broken up,” she says dryly. 

There’s heavy footfall in the woods behind them and they both flinch, as though they expect another murderer to appear out of the dark. But then a torchlight falls down on them and when Eddie blinks away the spots, it’s just Steve and Billy standing there. Billy’s got blood smeared across his mouth, one hand gripping a pistol and a knife strapped to his thigh. Steve’s bright yellow sweater is ripped at one shoulder but he wields the nailed bat like it’s Excalibur. Aside from some cuts and exhaustion, they’re both alive and well.

“Everyone okay?” Steve asks, anxiously, but Billy’s eyes fall on Henry at once.

“Holy shit,” he exhales, stalking around Eddie and Chrissy to take a better look. “Munson, you do this?”

“No way,” Eddie holds up his hands. “It was all her, dude.” Billy raises an eyebrow, taking in Chrissy, drowning in Eddie’s denim jacket.

“Damn,” he says and prods the body with a toe. “Guess that’s us out of the game, Harrington.” Steve rolls his eyes and slings the bat over his shoulder.

“There is no game, Hargrove,” he says wearily before he looks down at Henry. “Is he definitely dead?” Billy snorts and kicks Henry’s ribs with more than a little vitriol. Eddie suspects that if Billy knew the killer had been hunting down Max, there’d be a Henry-shaped scarecrow in the middle of a large bonfire in the centre of camp.

“Course he’s dead,” Billy spits back. Chrissy tugs Eddie’s arm around her shoulder, just to give him enough of a boost to get to his feet. She doesn’t move, even once he’s upright, and he thinks he could get used to her being there.

“Why the fuck wouldn’t he be dead?” Billy continues and Steve squirms. Whatever tentative friendship that had begun this summer is apparently back to its normal footing, with their usual jibes back and forth. For a little while at camp, when Eddie had seen them working side by side he thought he’d seen…never mind. Maybe it’s gone. Maybe they just don’t want anyone else to see.

“They never stay dead in movies,” Steve mutters sheepishly. Billy’s face does an interesting contortion somewhere between exasperated and fond.

“No shit, Harrington, that’s movies,” he starts to say when Henry shifts at his feet, a rattling exhale drifting from between his pale, bloodied lips.

It might be nerves or quick thinking on Steve’s part but the bat comes down squarely in Henry’s back before the rest of them can even react. They stare silently as the corpse goes quiet once more.

“Harrington,” Billy says, impressed. Steve wrenches the bloodied bat free and grins.

“Told you,” he says and swans off into the trees, unaware of Billy’s admiring look. 

“Do we just leave him here?” Chrissy whispers as they slowly follow Billy and Steve. Out of the woods, back to camp and the dawn inching its way over the hills. They’ll need to see who survived, comfort the wounded, gather the dead. Official people will descend on the camp, putting a swift end to the summer. 

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the still figure of Henry Creel and thinks that maybe the woods would be best to take him. Let him join the rest of the bones he buried, the end of the Creels.

“Yeah,” Eddie says decisively. “Let him rot.” @hellcheerweek

[byler-alarmist]

Will being paralleled to all the female Vecna targets....Chrissy, Max, Nancy....is so special to me

[cunninghamchrissie]

joe just chose chrissy for an upside down team up at a con bc “she wasn’t given her chance” and i could kiss him on his stupid lips

[sharry-arry-odd]

"We've always disagreed on the maning of our experiences." "A psycho and his brother tried to kill me," I say. "Same thing happened to all of us, essentially. What's to disagree on?" "You say tomato and I say shamanistic vision quest that uses an ordeal to lead us inward on a journey of spiritual discovery and eventual synthesis and peace." "You're right," I say. "We do disagree."

The Final Girl Support Group, by Grady Hendrix

[chickensoupleg]

oooh ok if you’re wanting prompts- robin chrissy and heather’s days off finally align, but they all have different things they want to do together. do they bicker? make a plan? compromise?? 👀

So I'm imagining they all have entirely separate jobs because of course they do. Robin's got her job doing whatever, let's say she's managed to snag a job (With Steve of course that's her work best friend never leave home without him) at the local Waffle House so her work hours are weird and sometimes she's going to bed the moment her wives wake up, Chrissy is working as a gymnastic coach, and Heather has somehow gotten herself into being a volunteer firefighter. Chrissy has the most flexible schedule (Get it) out of all of them.

They do love their jobs, but man is it brutal on their date nights.

Eventually they do manage to get a weekend together, and of course they don't want to waste it!

Problem is the how. Heather just wants to have a normal date night so she wants to go out and eat after a nice walk around town. Robin doesn't want to be near a restaurant because she is positive the waitress mentality will embarrass her in front of everyone ('Babe you work at a Waffle House it's not that fancy.') ('Heather baby my sweet sweet flaming ball of my miserable yet enchanting life I will accidentally walk into the kitchen if I'm not careful.') ('... Robbie why would you be in the kitchen?') ('Tickets.') ('Ah.')

Chrissy wants to spend the entire time in the house, cuddled up with each other and being lesbian wives doing lesbian wife things like holding hands and see how close they are to succumbing to building furniture for fun. As sweet and relaxing as that sounds somehow it feels like a waste just being home and doing absolutely nothing. They're not gonna have this much time again for a long while they might as well use it! (They do sleep in bed a little longer together regardless. Chrissy is a lump in the blankets, Robin has sprawled over everything, and Heather is octopused around the closest things which are usually either her girls or a pillow)

Robin wants to commit crimes of the loving but frankly a little concerning kind.

We can't let Robin commit crimes.

No matter how much Chrissy and Heather also want to commit crimes.

So they do bicker for a while over the span of a week before the actual days off in the form of many, many sticky notes stuck to bathroom mirrors, passing conversations, muttered sleepy time musings, messengers in the form of sending whoever they could convince to go between work places, phone calls, and even one (1) point in time where they were just in the same bathroom together.

In the end they ask Steve, date-life extraordinaire, for advice, who just tells them (in a fit of this man was rudely awoken) something about how girls like spas and stargazing. He's totally making something up.

It gives Robin an idea immediately, even if it makes no sense and takes a little convincing. A nice and relaxing spa day followed by shuffling off into the wilderness and laying underneath the stars! Perfect! No sitting around at home but also plenty of relaxation and being all date-y!

(It ends up being the greatest date night ever.)

(Even though Steve is a little worried when Robin came back with a photo of them in a tree while a bear was sniffing around at the bottom.)

(And when Heather came in to regale the tale of how Robin does not believe she could wrestle a bear.)

(... And how Chrissy accidentally kicked a bear in the face and apologised as told by Chrissy herself.)

[cheerfears]

chrissy cunningham is so final girl coded it’s crazy

[pearlypairings]

Ooh fun! @1lostsoul0fishbowl tagged me in this game...

Rules: Make a new post. No cheating! You’re starring in a movie with the last person you saved in your camera roll. The last song you’ve listened to is the title. Who/what is it?

Movie Title : Baby Came Home, starring our lovely Chrissy Cunningham/GVD

OOOHH! Maybe it's because I've been writing for a horror competish lately, or maybe it's because I love the idea of Chrissy coming back for her justified revenge, but here, Chrissy is the anti-hero protagonist trying to subvert the major horror trope of a "final girl". Quite the opposite, Chrissy is the first victim killed by the typical supernatural serial killer; Her last moments are full of despair, only to be resurrected for a second chance of revenge, with superhuman abilities rivaling the villain who killed her. With a murky past of abuse and trauma besides the man who murdered her in cold blood, she decides to punish the hidden predators in her small town, starting with the ones in her own home. The ones who betrayed her first. She closes the story chasing the killer to his bitter end.

Edit: I forgot to include MYSELF in this movie idea... I'll be the friend from cheer who takes her to the big jock party and tries to convince not to go into the woods alone 😂 I don't wanna be a victim of anyone's wrath

Did that get too dark?? I'm sorry I'll go back to my writing hobbit hole to finish this horror short story to get it out my system🙈

Here is @1lostsoul0fishbowl post which is WAY lighter and funny compared to mine if you need a happy palate cleanser :)

[lunastar92]

[cheersnap]

what if i wrote her

[bee-prescott]

My cover and art submission for Hellcheer fest on AO3!

Check out the whole collection here:

[elliewithcellie]

Girl, Interrupted

summary: Eddie crashes by your home when you least expected, but everything happens for a reason, right?

wc: 1.8k

cw: PURE SMUT (MDNI 18+), basically no plot, friends to fwb?, oral (f receiving), Eddie is a tease, fairly bold reader lol, fingering, talk of p in v sex, hair pulling, orgasms idk let me know what else

a/n: my bestie bought me slutty pajamas for my birthday, and since I'm a hypothetical whore, this has been on my mind nonstop. Finally took a break from my spn series to write this down. This is the filthiest thing I've written to date but definitely short and sweet

Eddie’s jaw fell slack as the door opened before him. He knew he shouldn’t have shown up to your place uninvited. Sure, you were his best friend, and of course, you had said he could come over whenever, but that never truly meant unannounced. He was already kicking himself for showing up as late as he did when you opened the door.

Your oh so short pajama shorts were the first thing that caught his eye, how your thighs spilled out beneath them, the cotton begging for relief. His eyes trailed higher to your tank top one size too small. The hem rested just above your midriff, the outline of your hips more prominent than he had ever seen. Your face was flush, pinks and reds lining your cheeks. He fought the urge to pinch himself, scared that he was dreaming, scared that he’d wake up to the absence of you and very real feelings emerging.

“Eddie? What are you doing here?” you asked, your arms crossing over your chest. “I thought you had a date.”

Date, what date? Eddie’s mind was going numb. His brain was flatlining at the mere sight of you, more exposed to him than he’d ever seen you. Fight or flight kicked in, debating on whether to say something or just turn around and leave. He was almost sure he was not supposed to see you in this state.

“I—uhh—it didn’t go well, so I cut it short. But I know you love the place, so I figured I’d bring over the leftovers.”

“Oh, sweet. Thank you.”

Eddie hesitated, scared to ask, but his interest piqued. “Is someone—you’re alone right now, right?”

Your eyebrows pinched together. You exhaled a dry laugh. “Please, I’m always alone. Come in. Tell me about your date.”

You ushered Eddie inside and settled into your couch. You pulled a blanket over you, and Eddie released a sigh. He couldn’t believe the hold you suddenly had on him. It was like he was in high school again, ready to combust at the sight of a shoulder. At least with your legs covered, he was less inclined to think about spreading them.

“Was it really that bad?” you asked, drawing Eddie from his thoughts.

“She was just so boring,” Eddie complained. “Like, there’s nothing wrong with her, but it was like we were from different planets! She didn’t know Metallica! How am I supposed to bond with someone when there’s nothing to relate to?”

“Did you think of showing her?”

“Showing her what?”

“Metallica!” you laughed. “Wouldn’t that be kind of romantic, you know, to introduce that to her? Maybe tell her you’re in a band? It’d be like showing her a whole new world. And maybe you’d get a groupie out of it.”

Eddie swatted at the air. “It’s not worth it. We were both bored. And it was clear she wasn’t looking to rock with a guitarist.”

“Oh, I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t meet her. She’s pristine, a Chrissy Cunningham type. Meant to be with a lawyer or some shit.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie, your blanket sliding down your thighs. “Those are the girls who fantasize about guys like you the most. Those girls on the straight and narrow, the ones who seemed destined to be sweet stay-at-home moms or perfect career women, those are the ones who dream of just one night doing something they never thought they could. Something so wild that when they’re taking their kids to soccer practice, or their ‘perfect husband’ is asleep on the recliner while they're doing the dishes, they can think back to that wild night when they fucked a rockstar.”

Eddie’s lip trembled as chills coursed through his body. You leaned back against the couch and shrugged like what you said was nothing. You had to be on something, he decided. Never had you been so frank when the topic of sex came up. Your face was still flushed with color, and you couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position on the couch, shifting yourself from one side to the other to no specific rhythm. Heat radiated off of you, though you weren’t known to be the furnace between the two of you. Something struck Eddie as so foreign but so familiar as he took you in.

“Would you fuck a rockstar?” Eddie found himself saying.

Heat rose to your cheeks. “Do I seem like one of those straight-and-narrow girls to you?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Eddie said, a newfound confidence overtaking him. “You came up with that way too fast to act like you don’t think of it, too. So, would you fuck a rockstar?”

You bit your lip and shifted in your seat. You huffed into the couch. “Wouldn’t anyone?”

“Why so shy all of a sudden?” Eddie asked, egging you on. “You’ve been squirming since I got here, sweetheart. Is something on your mind?”

Your eyes trailed from his eyes to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Tonight is not the night to ask me that.”

“Why is that?” Eddie chuckled. “Were you in the middle of something? Was something left unfinished when I so rudely interrupted? And now all you can think about is the ache between your legs?”

You shuddered at his words. “Eddie,” you said, your voice shaking.

“I could help you.” Eddie leaned closer, his words almost a whisper. “Because I may not be a rockstar, but I’m sure I could give you the night of your life.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. “Don’t tease me. It’s not funny.”

“No one’s laughing.” Eddie pulled the blanket back, his hands resting on your thighs. Your legs slightly opened on instinct. “What kind of friend would I be, huh? If I didn’t at least offer?”

Eddie didn’t know where this bravado came from, but he didn’t care. All he knew was the longer you looked at him like that, the harder he got.

You grabbed him by his shirt and forced his lips on yours. Nothing soft or sweet came from your lips. You were needy and desperate, clinging to him like he was the air in your lungs.

The urgency shocked Eddie, but he quickly found your rhythm. He smirked against your lips as he pulled his jacket off. His hands snaked from your thighs to your hips to your ass, lifting you onto his lap. You groaned into his mouth as he rolled you against him.

He was sure he was dreaming now. Only there did he ever picture you above him, grinding your hips into his. Only there did he imagine you moaning from his touch. But never were his dreams this vivid, this real, this fucking good.

He pulled you from him and pushed you back onto the couch. You whined at the loss of contact. He’d never seen your eyes so dark, so lustful, so hungry for him.

He slid down to the floor onto his knees and pulled you to the edge of the couch. “You still want my help, sweetheart?”

You nodded emphatically.

“I need to hear you, baby. Say it.”

“Please help me, Eddie. I need you. Please.”

“Atta girl.”

You lifted yourself up as Eddie pulled your shorts down your legs. Eddie’s cock jumped at the sight of you. He bit his lip to maintain what little composure he had left.

“Aww, your poor little pussy’s just as needy as you, isn’t she?” He spread your knees apart, the cold metal on his fingers sending chills up your spine. The throbbing between your legs only intensified, a small whimper escaping your lips.

Eddie couldn’t wait any longer. There was no time for teasing, no time to explore. You needed him, and he was going to deliver.

He dove into your aching pussy like a man starved. You jumped at the contact, your hands flying to his hair. His tongue worked overtime, kitten-licking your clit before diving in for more.

“You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, smiling against you. You moaned in response, grabbing a fistful of his hair and pulling him closer.

Your sounds turned him on even more, searching for his own release as he rubbed himself against the couch. His mind was in a daze, in utter disbelief that anyone could look so perfect for him with your legs spread and your back arched. Your chest rose and fell to the rhythm of his tongue, and your lips formed a perfect ‘o’. Oh, how Eddie wanted to feel your lips around his cock. How you’d sink down on him, your perfect innocent mouth being completely sinful just for him.

He placed a finger at your entrance and pumped in and out, his thumb now circling your clit. Your head fell back. “God, yes, Eddie. Just like that.”

“I need you to do something for me, baby,” Eddie said as he added a second finger.

“Wha—what’s that?” you asked, breathless.

“I need you to tell me what you think of when you get off. Tell me what you were thinking of before I showed up at your door.”

“I—I oh god,” you shouted as Eddie’s lips found your clit. “I—I thought about you on your fucking date.”

“Oh fuck,” Eddie groaned into your pussy, the vibrations shooting up your spine.

“I pictured you fucking her from behind, her skirt hiked up to her hips, her panties to the side as you fucked her in front of the bathroom mirror.”

“Fucking C—Christ,” Eddie stuttered, his hips rutting into the couch faster. “Keep going.”

“Then it was me you were fucking. You grabbed me by the hair, so I could watch what you were doing to me,” you said, your voice shaking with every word. “Eddie, please. I’m close. Please.”

“Come on, baby. You can do it. Tell me what I was doing to you.” He was past dreaming at this point. He was sure this was heaven. Hearing your words had him reeling. He didn’t want to stop, didn't know how to stop. He just knew he needed to see you come.

Your lip trembled. “Your hands were all over me, playing with my tits, your lips on my neck, and—and your big cock pounding into me over and oh-ver and—and Fuck! Eddie, don’t stop! Please, please, please!”

Your orgasm crashed down on you, expletives and Eddie’s name on your lips. Eddie continued to pump his fingers in and out of you like a madman as he lapped up your cum.

“Oh god, oh fuck!” he moaned against you.

You pushed his head off of you and caught your breath. Eddie took a breath, too, leaning back against his heels. You pulled him back up to you and kissed him, tasting yourself on your lips.

“That… was so hot,” Eddie said, releasing a breath.

“Can it be my turn to help you?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Eddie’s cheeks rouged slightly, his eyes trailing to the growing wet spot on his jeans. “I had a turn already,” he said, guilt painting his words. He leaned in toward you, a devilish smirk joining his features. “But I’m not done with you. Not yet.”

[chaptersleftunwritten]

Beauty is a beast that roars

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Blurb: You quietly long for Eddie’s attention, and when things with Chrissy start to look serious you resort to desperate attempts for him to look at you the way he looks at her.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, hurt (no comfort), Eddie is kinda a dick, obsession, hurtful notes being passed, mentions of bulimia/eating disorder, mild stalking, low talk about self image, societal pressure to look a certain way, mental health struggles, characters are 20+ and in a college setting!

-

divider by @reveriesources

It started as a slow burn inside of your chest. You blamed it on the stress of finals but the more you saw them together, the more that burn worsened into a blaze; scorching your heart and tarring it black.

You didn’t think it possible to be obsessed with someone that you didn’t love- but you worshipped the very ground that Chrissy Cunningham walked on. At times, you thought she was able to read your mind. The way she effortlessly flicks her natural glowing golden hair over her shoulder as she laughs, looking like she was sculpted by Aphrodite herself- or how she presses her perfect rosy lips in peppery and sweet kisses to Eddie’s cheek. She had him wrapped around her skilful fingers. You couldn’t stand it.

It twisted your insides into a rope like knot- so tight and big and uncomfortable. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think straight when you looked at her. At them. Your brain harbouring thoughts of envy, rotting from the inside out with lightless horrid concepts.

You couldn’t help but follow study Chrissy. Her signature blue eyeshadow that adorns her gorgeous blue eyes, her tiny upturned nose, her well proportioned features- her body. You had never repeated this information to anyone before, not even Eddie, because not only would it expose your research into Chrissy, but because you definitely weren’t ever supposed to find out.

You had walked in on her one day in the bathroom. She was hunched over in a stall, her white sneakers peeking out from beneath the cubicle door. She was vomiting. Harshly.

At first you thought she may just be sick, and she was, but it was a different conversation. You entertained that thought until you walked in a second and third time to her in the exact same position- her fatigued body draped over the toilet bowl. You understood how she maintained her physique. It broke your heart; momentarily.

What broke your heart more was that Eddie evidentially had no idea. You knew, deep down, Chrissy was just like you. A sad, broken girl. But she was better at hiding it. The Duchess of disguise. The Queen of your psyche. Your admiration of her was unhealthy, you knew that much. You just couldn’t stop. You needed Eddie to look at you the way he looks at her.

So you cut your hair into a fringe, and you change your clothes. You find your own signature colour of eyeshadow and you even purchase a few skater skirts. Sports had never really interested you until now; now you were trying out for the cheerleading team. And with being Chrissy’s friend- of course she gave you direct entry.

Because despite her beauty, Chrissy was also kind. Which made the knot in your stomach grow firmer, imbedding itself within you permanently.

-

“Hey, Eddie!” You make sure your voice is dripping with the sweetest form of honey as you bat your mascara thick eyelashes at him. He glances at you from his magazine, quirking a brow at your chirpy energy.

“Hello… What’s up?” He asks, his words clipped as his eyes focus back on the flimsy book he holds sturdily in his hands. God… his hands. The rings that compliment his slender fingers and the bracelets that dress his wrist. You couldn’t get enough of it- of him.

It was impossible for you to hold his attention for more than a few seconds, and you had bound into the library full of hope and partial confidence today. You had pieced together one of your best outfit. A denim jacket draped over your shoulders, a white tank top (with no bra) and a cute skirt in your favourite colour which also matched your eyeshadow. Your hair was in a voluminous pony tail, held up by a great big scrunchie and your eyes were bright with popping colour. Your cheeks were dusted with blush and your nails painted perfectly; with the help of your mother.

You couldn’t think of a reason why Eddie wouldn’t look at you. You looked totally bitchin’!

“Uhm…” you stutter, your small confidence wavering at his lack of interest, “We haven’t really hung out in a while… I thought maybe we could? If you like!” There is a festering in the pit of your stomach, a panic that grows with every anticipating second, “We don’t really hang out anymore... just us, I mean.” You add, hoping further context will make you sound a little less desperate.

You and Eddie used to hang out every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with the whole group. But lately… things have changed. And you know the reason why.

Eddie acknowledged you with a hum, finally placing his magazine down and narrowing in on your appearance. You thought you wanted him to look at you, but the intense confusion on his face made you long for the earth to gape open beneath you and swallow you whole.

“Looks like ya did a deep dive through Chrissy’s wardrobe.” His chuckle makes your ears heat and your face flush as his fingertips pluck at the sheer scrunchie wrapped in your hair. You can’t tell if he is joking or not— but to you, it’s a compliment nonetheless.

After a moment of pause and total excitement you gather your composure quickly and cough a meek reply, “I’m trying something new.”

You’re trying to be someone new.

“Hmm,” He examines you further, “I dunno,” Eddie scratches at his chin, his once soft and playful features now express something more distasteful, “I personally prefer your old style— this seems… out of character.” There was a lilt to his deep voice, which made him sound interrogative.

“You.. you do?” You curse inwardly at the stutter in your airy voice. To say his words shocked you was an understatement. They had your jaw hanging loose and your eyes opened broadly. Had you gotten it all wrong? Were you really just as pretty before all of this? Or was he teasing you… was he trying to make you feel better? Was this his attempt at telling you that you look like an utter clown in comparison to Chrissy?

You’d never know… because you would never ever ask him such things.

You think back to a note that got passed to you in class not too long ago- you weren’t sure of the culprit (you suspected Jason) — it read along the lines of,

‘Apply all the makeup you want, but at the end of the day it’s just lipstick on a pig.’

Were you a pig? Was this all just a feeble and comical attempt at beauty? To be desired. To be wanted. It’s all you longed for. It’s all you dreamed of.

You wanted Eddie to see you. To want you. And at this rate, you were losing all hope.

“Yeah,” alongside a small laugh he also flashes you a toothy smile, a mocking smile— and you clamp your jaw closed to stop yourself from shaking out a sob, “Listen, you’re free to chill here with me if you want but— hey!”

You couldn’t take it. The embarrassment. The knife twisting in your chest and puncturing your heart. You flee from the table abruptly before Eddie even has a chance to say anything more to you.

What was wrong with you? You wanted his attention, you wanted him alone and when you got it you despised the humorous way he gazed at you. You didn’t want to be entertaining or funny— you wanted to be loved.

Loved by him.

To please him.

To make him proud…

On exiting the library you pass Chrissy who was entering through the heavy fire doors, clearly she is on her way to meet Eddie. It was uncanny, almost like looking into a mirror.

The blonde spares you a small smile but not without a worried and intrigued glance at your attire before she is muttering a quick ‘Hello’ which you don’t even bother to return. You are too focused on your pursuit to the bathroom where you can hide yourself in an empty stall and cry without judgement. The only issue? You didn’t bring any makeup wipes for the mascara that has plagued your face in splotches and streaks of black tears.

Your eyes sting furiously and your bottom lip quivers outwith your control. It’s hard to believe that you have allowed yourself to stoop this low, crying shamelessly on campus in front of your peers. Their sympathetic eyes and taunting grins don’t go unnoticed by you as you finally make it to the bathroom, bursting into the void room like a bat out of Hell. Slamming the cubicle door closed and sitting on the toilet bowl where you start to question reality.

What are you doing?

You despise the fact that you know, no matter what, no matter how stupid you look- how ridiculous your clothes are and your sorry attempts at looking pretty, you would continue to do it. Even if people stared, gawked, whistled, laughed… you would continue on this descent into madness. The chase of perfection. The downward spiral of your mind had only just begun and you had a far distance yet to fall.

-

Whilst classes had finished for a long weekend and everyone was outdoors enjoying what was left of the sun before Fall crept its way in, you were sat in front of your bathroom mirror. 

Pulling, pinching, tweezing, twisting, sucking, shaving, grabbing and crying.

God, you couldn’t stop crying.

You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t cry.

To you, winter was already here. You were chilled to the bone, hollow in your chest. Insides were sunken. You felt vacant of any joy.

“Honey!!” Your mother yells suddenly from the bottom of the staircase, her voice is cloud like and warm, “Someone is here to see you!” There is a mutter of something inaudible, “Chrissy!” She confirms snippily and your face drops heavily into a worried frown.

“I’m in the shower!!” You shriek back dishonestly and you are reminded that you have a heart as it shudders inside of your chest. You aren’t ready to see her— you don’t have a lick of makeup on, your hair isn’t done and you are still wrapped up in your bath towel. 

Your first thought is how do you get rid of her? How do you lie your way out of this?

You couldn’t.

“Okay, she’ll be waiting down here for you then…” Your mother’s voice dies out and you can hear her offering Chrissy something to drink and eat; which Chrissy declines.

You move around your bedroom agilely, hustling to get as presentable as you possibly could to face the girl waiting downstairs for you. It doesn’t quite register that Chrissy is sitting with your mother, chatting and possibly gossiping. All you care about is getting some makeup slapped on your face and some nice clothes hugging your body.

Your hair can be brushed, but you don’t have time to style it— that’ll have to come later. After multiple a few sprays of your favourite perfume that smells like vanilla and a tinge of cedar wood you feel ready enough to leave your sanctuary.

Nearly tripping over your entire wardrobe that covers your bedroom floor you fly toward the door handle, bracing yourself at the top of the staircase before you descend.

Time to meet your maker.

Your intense gaze flicks hurriedly between your mother and Chrissy as they both stand to meet you as you enter into the lounge room. Chrissy’s hair is twirled and curled to perfection and a short pink summer dress embraces her small frame. On her feet is a pair of red Mary Jane heels and you catch a peek at the silver jewellery strung around her neck and her wrists.

“Hi,” you say, feeling like it is the first breath you take since entering the room.

Chrissy bounds over to you, stringing her arms around your shoulders and pulling you in for a quick but sweet hug, “Hi!” She giggles in a sing song tone before pulling away, “You smell amazing by the way! You’ll have to let me know what that is later!” Her fingers linger on the exposed skin of your bicep and you cringe away from her touch.

“Thanks,” Your mother has long left the room and you walk a few paces away from Chrissy.

“We were heading to the movies, you wanna join? It’s meant to be such a warm night tonight!” To your disadvantage Chrissy follows behind you closely, closing the distance you were trying to create between the both of you, “The whole group will be there! Plus, it’s a thriller which I know you love.” She winks at you and you hate that you can feel your lips curving up into a minuscule smile.

“I dunno, Chris.” Your hand palms at the back of your neck, you feel hot with discomfort and to be quite frank all you want to do is lay in bed and mope.

“Please!” She clasps her hands together, inching closer to you— if that were even possible, “I’ll even buy your ticket!” Her pillowy bottom lip pouts out slightly, “I just wanna hang out with you, it’s been so long.”

And she was right. It had been a long time. You had been so swept up in this horrible pursuit of yours that you forgot you were actually friends with Chrissy. Long before you even knew of Eddie’s existence.

A defeated sigh leaves through your nostrils and you raise your shoulders to your ears, “Fine.” You smile, a smile that feels the most genuine it has in weeks.

Chrissy squeals with excitement, jumping up and down on the spot before taking your hand into hers. Interlocking your fingers so she can make sure you don’t make a run for it, “Let’s go, tiger!”

-

You all find your seats quickly, settling into them with your snacks and beverages. You partially regret not getting a drink but you decide that you’ll be able to soldier through. It’s what you do.

It was no surprise to you that Eddie was there too, but you couldn’t help but panic at the sight of him waiting for you and Chrissy to arrive at the theatre. His tatted arms crossed comfortably over his chest and a love filled smile teasing at his lips as Chrissy trotted over to him, practically jumping into his arms for a hug.

You fell behind them, ensuring you left as much distance as you possibly could. The sight of Eddie alone was enough to send you tumbling into a frenzy of inky feelings.

You could smell Eddie’s cheap cologne mixed with a hint of powerful weed and for a moment it clouds your senses. Taking hold of everything you knew— past, present, future. You couldn’t think about any of it, not with his scent engulfing your nostrils like second hand smoke.

Once the group had settled into the dimly lit theatre you sink into your seat behind Eddie and Chrissy, your shoulders slumping as you wish for the seat to turn into some sort of magical trap door that will transport you to another universe. But of course, you could never be so lucky.

The movie begins with a deafening introduction and you wince at the sound, your finger tips brushing over your ears gently to make sure that they hadn’t been blown off of the side of your head.

Steve occupies the seat next to you, and Robin is next to him with Vickie. You had grown to quite enjoy Vickie’s company. You loved how happy Robin got when she was in touchable reach… you pined for a connection like that.

Normally, you would be in your element as you watched a thriller movie, but something in front of you proved to be far more interesting.

Eddie and Chrissy were whispering sweet nothing into one another’s ear, Chrissy giggling and blushing at whatever it was that Eddie had said— probably something dirty and ridiculous.

And you could handle that. You could endure that.

But what you couldn’t take was watching as their tongues battled it out in a sloppy and erotic kiss. Chrissy had asked you to come and see this film— was it all a rouse just so she could show you who Eddie truly belongs too? So she could dismiss your attempts and break your heart further?

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had clocked the expression on your face. Tears glossing over your eyes, your front teeth gnawing on your bottom lip to try and contain whatever this was that you were feeling— but most importantly, he noticed the newfound stiffness in your body. He could feel you going rigid next to him.

“Hey, you okay?” His voice is low and kind and you should have paid more attention to his attentiveness but you don’t.

“I need to use the bathroom.” Is all you reply before lugging all of your stuff loosely and lazily into your arms and bolting for the theatre isle, but not without earning a few confused looks from Robin.

You bypass the restrooms, your eyes focused on the colossal glass doors which would separate you from Eddie and Chrissy officially.

The humid air hits your skin in an agonising envelop of warmth and you pull your sleeve over the palm of your hand to rub against your soaked cheeks.

Your chest feels heavy with every shaking intake of breath that you manage to pull into your lungs. You are heaving, gasping for air as you sob into the thick material of your sweater.

The sound of passing cars hits your ears and you slightly angle yourself away from the access road connecting the theatre to other public establishments. The images of Chrissy tongue down Eddie’s throat plays over and over in your mind— you don’t even know what the film was about because you were so hyper focused on them.

Your skin feels as though it doesn’t fit right over your skeleton and you grab at the material of your skirt, fisting the fabric as you try to ground your raging emotions.

You catch a whiff of theatre food and it causes bile to raise up the back of your throat, vomit threatening to project from your mouth.

People pass you by, their out of context conversations entering one of your ears and leaving the other. You felt so overstimulated— so riddled with anxiety that your brain hadn’t had space to even register Steve’s hand on your shoulder.

But when you do, you flinch away from him, taken aback by the horror stricken look on his soft features, “Hey… what’s going on?” His voice is low, a whisper as he tries to contain the situation between the two of you. Not wanting whatever this is to spill into the public.

You shake your head, your strong walls flagging up, “Nothing,” you dismiss him, “That movie was just… really scary..” you lie through your teeth and your watery eyes betray your words as tears continue to stream down your flushed skin.

“Bullshit.” He spits, his eyes turning to slits as he inches in closer to you, “Tell me what’s wrong right now.” His thick eyebrows have furrowed deeply on his forehead and you continue to deny him of any information.

“Steve— I’m fine! That movie was scary, I’m scared! That’s all… and.. and I needed some fresh air.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping that the messy headed man would leave it at that but he replies to your dishonesty with a discontent shake of his head.

“You’re fucking lying. Why are you lying to me?” He is so close to you now that you can feel his breath fanning onto your face, “We’re friends, right?” He cocks his head slightly to the right, his eyes becoming a bit more gentle, “Right?”

“Yes!” You respond instantly, “Of course we are friends-“

“Then tell me what’s going on! What is all of this about!” He gestures to your face, but his eyes scan across your body as well. He wants to know the whole truth, and you aren’t going to give it to him.

“I just told you!” You try not to yell, and thankfully your despair is doing a good job at strangling your voice, “I needed air—“ Steve cuts you off.

“Stop it. Stop it now.” He takes a hold of your arm, hurrying you away from the movie theatre entrance, “Just tell me. Whatever it is, I can help! I can help, okay? There’s nothing too big.” You stare into his honey suckle eyes, seeing your owe reflection staring back at you. It causes your stomach to flip with disgust.

“Why can’t you just let this go? I’m fine, Steve! I’m fucking fine! I just wanted air because I felt sick and you’re causing a scene!” You’re yelling now, your once sadness provoked tears turning to anger.

“I’m causing the scene? You’re the one lying to me and busting my balls! I just want to help you!” He takes a frustrated hand through his hair.

“I don’t need your help! I don’t need anyone, I’m fine on my own. I can take care of myself— you don’t get it! You’ll never get it, Harrington!” You jab at his chest, your body shaking with adrenaline.

“Harrington? Wow, okay. Something is definitely bothering you because you only ever call me that when you are really fucking pissed and I know I haven’t angered you this much so just tell me.” He circles you like a shark in murky water and you flee from him, needing some breathing space.

“Tell me!” He demands, charging after you.

You swing around to face him, your entire body feeling as though it’s going to combust.

“You wanna know, Steve? You really wanna fucking know?!” You march toward him, stopping a few paces away from his large frame.

“I’m in love with Eddie!” Your voice is an unattractive squeak, “Is that what you want to know, Steve? Are you fucking happy now?” You’re trembling now— a mix of rage, melancholy and dread.

“I am in love with someone who will never love me back. I… I have tried so hard to win him over.” You pluck at your t-shirt, scoffing at the silliness of it all, “I tried to change everything about me. I tried to be the one he would want but he doesn’t want me. He’ll never fucking want me, Steve.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a form of defensiveness, “I’ll always be second best— no.” A moment of ugly realisation hits you, “I’m not even on his list. I’m not even a back up option to him. I’m a nobody. I can’t compete— I can’t compare.”

You’re a mess now. Smudged eyeliner. Smeared lipstick. You are a museum of failed art.

“I am in love with Eddie Munson and he doesn’t even know who I am.”

You try to lessen the blow of your own words with a tight lipped teary smile and a shrug of your shoulders… but whatever was left of your bruised heart was now torn to shreds. Unfixable. Unlovable.

“No one wants me.”

Through your distorted vision you hadn’t even noticed the tears pricking at Steve’s own eyes as he watched you fall to pieces in front of him.

Gently he brings you to lay flat against his chest, one of his hands rest tenderly against your hair whilst the other it draped over your shoulders.

He doesn’t say anything. He just holds you silently and allows you to sob into his broad chest— your makeup destroying his pristine white shirt.

A few moments of the embrace pass and that’s when you hear a muted voice from behind Steve’s large frame. A voice you had hoped to not hear— a voice that belonged to someone you had prayed would never ever hear you confess what you just had. A voice that was laced with what you could only pinpoint as malice and repulsion.

Eddie.

“What.. the fuck?”

And as Steve’s body tensed against yours, you blinked away the last of your tears and accepted your fate.

-

taglist: @colorful-white-ideas @littlered0000 @ali-r3n @daisy-munson @serenadingtigers

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me

Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.

The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.

So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.

His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.

And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.

During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.

He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.

Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.

God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.

Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.

As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.

As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.

"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"

The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.

Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.

The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.

By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...

[sharry-arry-odd]

"Don't you realize what purpose monsters serve?" she asks. "Monsters always guard treasure, but it doesn't have to be literal. It can be knowledge, transcendence. In the center of the Minotaur's labyrinth lies something precious: monstrous knowledge. Each of us has a monster we must confront, a monster designed to test our personal weaknesses. And in the end, they bring about our deaths. Not literal death, but death as the conclusion of this phase and the beginning of another. Death is the harbinger of transformation, that which precedes a new life. No, dammit. I don't want to upgrade to OS 10.6."

The Final Girl Support Group, by Grady Hendrix

[cthulhued]

open starter ! 

                                     CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM.

“i’m fine.” a soft whisper passed cut lips. hands pushing herself off the ground with a shaken exhale. the horrors would not take chrissy cunningham... she’d survived but at what cost? she felt broken - twisted yet her body intact. but her mind? truly not even she knew at that point. the monster would have to try harder than that-- even though the gashes on her side seemed to make her wince in pain.

[ashwhowrites]

Maybe billy hargrove x sunshine!cheerleader!reader ? where they‘re dating and the rest of the cheer squad (except chrissy <3) is jealous so they act like they are her friends and they keep asking her questions about billy to have a chance with him, but she doesn’t realize because she thinks they’re just interested in her relationship since they’re ‘re apparently her friends. But billy is super loyal (kinda unrealistic with his character but anyway lol) and every time they they try to hit on him he rejects them pretty harshly ? And maybe in the end she finally stands up for herself and billy is just like „that‘s my girl.“

I‘m so sorry if this was hard to understand it‘s my first time requesting and I was so nervous🥲, especially since I basically read all of your ST fics😭

Love love love a good boyfriend Billy fic 🫶🏻

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Cheerleader game

When the word got out that Billy Hargrove locked down on one girl, hell broke loose. The boys were excited that there wouldn't be any more competition, but the girls were having a hard time accepting it. Billy was the heartthrob of the school and every girl wanted their turn with him. But his eyes landed on Y/N, and they never left.

Y/N was sweet, bubbly, and all-around a ball of sunshine. Her being with Billy was a shock to everyone. Sure, she was a cheerleader and Billy only focused on the popular crowd. But the squad couldn't believe out of all of them, he picked her.

Their jealousy made them bitter and snakes. They swarmed Y/N countlessly with questions about Billy. They craved every detail they could get, details to make him interested in them. Poor Y/N didn't know their intentions, she thought they were just interested in her new relationship. She thought they were being friends.

~~~

"So Y/N, tell us! What does he like about you?" Bethany smiled, patting her manicured nails against the table.

"Um, I don't know. I feel like you'd have to ask him that." Y/N laughed awkwardly. To be honest, she wondered why he liked her too. But she didn't think too long about it. He liked her and asked her out. That's what mattered.

"Wrap your brain around it! You beat out the whole school, there must be something special about you." Bethany said, her eyes glared for a tiny second then a bright smile took over her face.

Y/N tried to rank her brain for compliments Billy gave. She smiled as a few came to mind.

"Oh, I know! He loves my pink lip gloss. He said he loves how shiny and irresistible it makes my lips!"

~~~

Billy was walking towards his car when he saw a girl leaning on it. He eyed her quickly but didn't recognize much about her.

"Can I help you?" Billy asked, and not politely. His voice was thick and sharp. His eyes raised in a bothered way and his body language read annoyed.

Bethany giggled and popped her gum. The gum brought attention to her shiny pink lips. Billy noticed the familiarity of the gloss but didn't say anything about it.

"See something you like? The gloss maybe?" She teased, she slowly applied the lipgloss over her already-coated lips. Billy saw the bottle and confirmed it was the same kind Y/N wore.

"Not on you," Billy said, chuckling at the shocked look on Bethany's face. He got in the car and started the engine. The loud rumble made Bethany move out of the car with a growl.

~~~

"What do you guys enjoy doing on dates? Does he like to go to the movies or something?" Sarah asked, throwing her bright blonde hair over her shoulder.

"We go to the movies a lot! He's really into action movies. He wants to go see that new Batman movie."

~~~

Billy was finishing practice, his sweat dripping from his curls down his chest. The small shorts he wore caught every cheerleader's attention. Practicing in the same gym was the best thing the school came up with.

While Y/N and Chrissy were having a small talk on the couch, Sarah took the opportunity to race off to talk to Billy. After her talk with Y/N yesterday, she raced to the movie theater to buy two tickets for the new Batman film for opening night.

She snatched the tickets and confidently walked up to Billy. His back to her as he switched out his shirts. Sarah felt drool on her chin as she watched his tan back move. She tapped on his shoulder, a smile on her face as he turned.

"Hi, Billy! You looked great during practice today." She batted her eyelashes and trailed her hand up his arm. She tried not to pout when he pushed her hand off and made a grunt sound in response.

"Anyway!" She brushed it off, "I got two tickets for that new Batman movie, would you maybe want to go?"

"Sweet! Thanks!" He smiled. There was a glint in his eye that made her stomach flip. "Can I see them?" He asked, his hand reaching out. She tried to catch her breath as his fingertips touched her skin. Her body was on fire from the simple touch.

"Opening night! That kicks ass. Thanks." He said he slipped the tickets into his pocket. "See ya."

Sarah was confused as she watched him walk off. She turned around and growled when she saw him walk up to Y/N. The tickets were in his hands as he showed them to Y/N, who excitedly nodded. They walked out hand in hand with Sarah's tickets.

~~~

Y/N screamed as Billy scored the winning shot. The gymnasium was electric as the boys celebrated their win. Y/N waited for all the boys to finish congratulating Billy, waiting for her turn to race in his arms and kiss his face.

By the time the boys finished, the cheer squad raced to Billy next. Y/N stood shocked as all these girls swarmed her boyfriend. Their hands on his skin, and lips on his cheek. That's supposed to be her!

"Get your man, girl." Chrissy encouraged, her arms crossed as she looked in shame at her team.

Y/N huffed and marched over to her boyfriend. She felt a sense of pride that he didn't look pleased either. He looked annoyed with all these girls.

Once his blue eyes caught hers, a smile lit up his whole face. Y/N wanted to laugh at the way he pushed through the girls, his feet walking towards her.

"There's my girl." He cheered, his arms open as she raced into them. She ignored everyone around them as Billy spun her in the air. Her praise was the only one he cared about hearing it from.

"Amazing, baby." Her words pressed against his lips as she kissed him. And she kissed him hard. Her hands were in his hair as he set her back on the floor. Her back arched as he dipped her.

When they separated from their hot kiss, Y/N offered him a smile before she looked to her team. Her face was hard as the smile was swiped off her face. A glare and snarl sent their way as she stepped closer to them.

"I'm done with all you girls flirting and touching him. He's taken and he's not interested. If you continue to disrespect my relationship, your ass is off the team." The girls quickly ran off, A sense of fear filled the atmosphere as they refused to look at her or Billy.

Y/N stood proudly as she watched them scatter.

"Atta girl." Billy praised, his arms wrapping around her from behind. His face snuggled in her neck as she giggled at the feeling.

"Gotta sink my claws in you a tad bit more, I think," Y/N said, quietly moaning as Billy nipped at her neck.

"Gladly let you."