#let’s talk about puppy!chrissy !!

[ddejavvu]

okay I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this for the past week, but adopting dog hybrid!eddie after you’ve already had bunny!chrissy for a couple of months. she’s terrified of him when they first meet and it takes a while for her to warm up to him :(( one day you wake up and you slept through your alarms, so you have to rush to get to work, but chrissy’s in heat. shes trying to get you to stay home and take care of her. her humping your thigh while you’re trying to get dressed <3 you’re worried about her all day, and when you get home from work, she’s completely fucked out and your sheets are covered with eddie’s cum. he’s been popping a knot into her every few hours to help with the pain :) you barely make it through the door before they’re pouncing on top of you. eddie fucking into you while chrissy rides your face :))

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

cw: hybrid au with bunny hybrid!chrissy. don't like don't read, or block the tag 'hybrid au' below. hybrid au faq

this post is 18+, minors dni.

aw that's actually a cute thing to think about! like, getting chrissy used to eddie because he's all hyper and tactile and up in her face and she just wants to have her space at first.. it takes a lot of holding eddie back and getting them slowly used to each other :')

eddie's probably worried in the morning when he realizes, because she seems like she's in so mucn pain rubbing herself up on you, but he knows you have to get to work, so he's just sitting on the sidelines wishing he could help :(

but when you leave he realizes that he can!! he wasn't going to suggest anything 'cause he's worried she's still a bit nervous around him, but he tries offering her some water and she begs him to just help instead, so after a lot of cautious questions and reassuring he helps her out!

they definitely want you to join in when you get home, chrissy pulls you desperately to the bed she's still sprawled out over and eddie helps push you down so that she can roll over and mount your face, and he can take your cunt

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 21

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19 || PART 20

Chrissy’s in Steve’s bed, sprawled out on her stomach, trying to plow through her homework when Steve says, “I need your help.”

Her heart’s in her throat as she whips her head toward him, already halfway through jumping up off the bed, ready to bury whatever body he needs burying.

But, he’s not even looking at her; he’s restlessly tearing a blank piece of paper into tiny little pieces, and his ears are a familiar, damning red. He’s not worried, he’s embarrassed.

“Jeez, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Chrissy sighs, flopping back down onto the bed. She’s gotten far too used to all of Steve’s problems being life or death, and whatever this is, she can tell it’s not that.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters.

She just waves her hand and flips her notes and textbook closed, ready to think about something, anything else. “What is it, boy troubles?” she asks, fluttering her eyelashes flirtatiously, only to drop all pretenses when Steve ducks his head like a turtle hiding within its shell. “Already?”

“It’s not a problem, Chris, god,” he sighs, running his hand anxiously through his hair. “I just thought—nevermind, it’s stupid.”

And then he just, picks his homework back up, as if Chrissy would ever let him get away with that. “Steve Harrington,” she snaps, only feeling marginally bad when he snaps his head back up. “Nothing about you is stupid.”

He’s still turtling into himself, but he nods dutifully, so she continues. “Now, tell me what you were going to say.”

He groans, flopping down on the bed to stare up at his white ceiling, barely blinking. She follows his lead, collapsing bonelessly next to him and rolling atop all their coursework until she’s nestled into his side, both of them giggling.

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, and finally begins to speak. “I have  a date with Eddie tomorrow, right?” he says, looking down at her for confirmation. She nods, even though he’d never given her a specific date. “And I wanted you to help me, like, plan it?”

She blinks, nonplussed as the blush on his cheeks disperses across his cheeks. She rolls over, elbow planted on his chest so she can use it to prop her chin up and peer down at him. “You need help planning a date?” she asks, voice incredulous.

He groans, reaching up to hide his face from her view, but she grabs his wrists and yanks them back down. He pouts up at her while she watches on, unamused.

“Most of my usual date plans are like, public? We can’t exactly just show up at Benny’s and share a milkshake, you know?” Chrissy grimaces, not having thought of that, but before she can apologize, he continues talking. “And besides…”

He trails off, eyes darting back and forth between her eyes as his blush travels down his neck and up the bridge of his nose.

“Besides?” she prompts, voice soft.

“We started this whole thing together, right?” he asks, looking earnestly up at her. “It wouldn’t feel right if we didn’t finish it together.”

Chrissy’s shriveled heart grows three sizes and bursts with such a ferocious love that she collapses onto him without warning, arms wrapping around him and squeezing tight enough that he groans.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” she says, ignoring all his pleas for her to loosen her hold. “I’m so glad you looked pathetic enough that day for me to come ask if you needed help.”

“I didn’t look that pathetic,” he grumbles, finally succeeding in tossing her off of him, sending her careening off the bed and onto the lush carpet of his bedroom floor.

He peers over the side of the bed, looking worried, so she smiles up at him until he reaches down and helps her back up.

“You looked like a wet puppy someone had tossed in a river,” she replies, bulldozing through his continued complaints to ask, “now, what were you thinking?”

In the end, it’s a fairly typical date set-up, but instead of dinner at a nice restaurant, it’s in Steve’s home. They lay a checkered table cloth across the Harrington’s breakfast nook, make sure he has all the ingredients for burgers and fries, and then set about attempting to make milkshakes once Steve reveals he’s never made them before.

Their first attempt splatters chocolate ice cream and milk all over the ceiling. Their second results in a water concoction that, while edible, is less than pleasant.

The third is thick, barely able to be sucked through one of the straw’s Steve had stolen from Benny’s. It’s perfect.

“Can you dump Eddie so I can go on the date instead?” she asks, barely pausing in her pursuit of sucking the shake through her straw.

Steve laughs and replies, “Or, I can just make you one whenever you want,” he says, nudging the shake closer to her, leaving his own straw inside.

She beams, and drinks the entire thing.

Steve accosts her before lunch the day of, telling Jeff, “can you tell everyone we’ll be missing lunch? Thanks,” before dragging her away.

“I thought we were done with this,” she says, settling into the seat across from him as he pulls out a familiar notebook she hasn’t even glimpsed for weeks.

He opens it, but doesn’t turn to the back of the notebook where all his rough draft secret admirer letters lay. Instead, he pulls a light blue envelope from the front and hands it over to her.

She stares down at Eddie’s name in Steve’s messy scrawl, clearly written carefully to keep it legible.

“Steve?” she asks, ghosting her fingers over the letters before looking up into his anxious face.

“It’s just—I liked writing the letters, so I wanted to give him one on our date, so,” he breaks their gazes to look down at the envelope, biting his lip. “I already wrote it, but it wouldn’t feel right if you didn’t read it first.”

Steve Harrington, Chrissy thinks, eyes welling with all the fondness her body’s too small to contain. “Okay,” she sniffs, smiling down at the letter as she carefully slides her finger under the envelope’s flap and pulls it free.

It unfolds into the letter itself, Steve having clearly reverse-engineered it from all the times Eddie had done the same. Only then does she realize that at some point, he must have stolen a page from her planner because that’s the same as the first time, too.

She raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything, just hunches back over the letter and begins to read.

   Eddie —

   I know we don’t have to do this anymore, but I miss it. Isn’t that the strangest thing? I’m happy talking to you face to face, holding your hand beneath the table, pressing my lips against yours, but I miss reading your words, and I miss writing my own.

   So, here I am, writing you the day before our second date, so nervous and excited I might just throw up. Because we can do it now, you know? We can do all the things we’ve talked about (and more). I’m excited to do them with you.    

   If the date goes well, I want you to put this under your pillow, hold my face in your mind, and dream of me.

   Hopefully Yours, Hopefully Always,

   Steve

   P.S. I know you can just put them in my locker now, but maybe put this one in The Return of the King? Just this once, for me?

“How is it?” Steve asks when she’s been staring down at the words on the page for probably too long. “Is it okay?”

“It’s perfect,” she says, grinning when his entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “And so are you.”

***

“They’re not coming to lunch,” Jeff says as he settles onto the bench at their usual table, a slab of lasagna already somehow congealing on his tray.

“Are they okay?” Eddie asks, dropping his own fork to try to glean any worry on Jeff’s own face.

“Steve was definitely excited when he dragged Chrissy off,” Jeff replies, shrugging. Before Eddie can even spit out his follow-up question, Jeff continues, “no idea what they’re doing, though,” and he closes his mouth.

“I know,” Robin calls from down the table, voice all sing-songy and sly.

Eddie turns to glare at her, but she just keeps grinning around her sandwich, Vickie looking equally lost at her side.

“Are you going to enlighten the rest of the class,” Eddie asks, gesturing to the rest of the table despite clearly being the only one who gives a shit.

Robin grins wider and replies, “it’s a secret,” tauntingly like she knows somehow that word is his ultimate trigger.

Eddie whines, but no one pays him any mind. Even more cruelly, he doesn’t see Steve for the rest of the school day, leaving him flushed and flustered as he rushes home to get ready for their date. 

Unfortunately, it’s Wayne’s day off, so he’s there to heckle Eddie as he changes his outfit enough times to leave his hair a frizzy mop on the top of his head.

“You dressin’ for a date or to be the janitor’s new mop?” Wayne asks, laughing as Eddie rushes past him and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind himself.

Unfortunately, Wayne’s right, so Eddie runs a damp brush through his hair, trying to make the frizziness merge back with the rest of his hair. When it doesn’t really work, Eddie folds his hair into a bun and elects not to look at himself in the mirror again.

With ten minutes to spare, Eddie moves his frantic pacing for the living room, walking back and forth in front of Wayne, fingers gyrating as he tries to keep them from further ruining his hair.

“You really wearing that?” Wayne asks, long since having given up on trying to watch the TV, Eddie’s body too much of a moving obstacle to crane his neck around.

Eddie stops and stares down at his outfit. “What’s wrong with this?”

It’s a more put together version of his usual style: his only pair of black jeans that haven’t gotten any holes yet, clunky boots, still adequately polished from his last date with Steve, a plain black t-shirt, fingers full of rings except the one he keeps bare, the ring still on Steve’s own finger.

“You know what I mean, boy,” Wayne sighs, looking him up and down with so much judgment that Eddie wants to shrivel up and die. “Ain’t the jacket a bit much?”

Eddie fondles the green and white cuff of the jacket’s sleeve. He does a little spin, like a dog chasing its own tail, trying to get a look at the way it hangs on his frame.

Wayne’s right—it looks almost incongruous on him, clashing absurdly with the rest of his outfit, but it’s got Steve’s name on its back, and a small, shivery part of Eddie likes that. Jock courting rituals are absurd, but there’s maybe something to this one.

Maybe Steve will like it, too—his name on Eddie’s back.

“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, voice taking on that higher pitch that only dogs can hear. He turns to Wayne, panicky and desperate. “Do you think it’s coming on too strong?”

Wayne’s mouth twists up all sardonic and wry as he snorts and replies, “that boy’s been writing you love notes for months. There ain’t no such thing as too strong, for a thing like that.”

Eddie feels his cheeks warm. He breaks eye contact, looking down the floor as he scuffs the toe of his boot against the carpet bashfully.

Before he can voice any of the self-conscious bullshit kicking around in his head, there’s a knock at the door. Eddie snaps his head up and freezes, staring with mounting hysteria at the closed front door until there’s a second knock and he snaps back to life.

“Oh my god, places everybody!” Eddie cries, clutching at his head in panic, undoing all the work he’d done on his hair in one fell swoop.

“I ain’t moving,” Wayne says from the chair.

Eddie rushes past him, skidding to a halt in front of the door. He wastes precious seconds taking a few deep breaths before he swings the door open, fake smile plastered on his face. It melts into something excited and real when he catches sight of Steve.

Steve, who’s wearing the leather jacket Chrissy still hasn't returned. Steve, who’s fiddling with the lapels and blushing self-consciously until he catches sight of Eddie’s own attire and bursts out laughing.

“Great minds think alike, huh Harrington?” Eddie asks, smiling down at him.

While on Eddie, the aesthetic mismatch looks bizarre, Steve’s light-wash jeans and green polo somehow only enhance the effect of Eddie’s oversized leather jacket.

“It’s The Return of the King,” Eddie says, looking up and down Steve’s body, smirking before catching sight of his befuddled face. “We’ve really gotta get you up to date on Tolkien.”

“Oh, the hobbit books?” Steve asks, smiling brightly. “I just started the first one. Bilbo’s a pretty cool dude.”

Eddie takes a shuddering breath, heart kicking up a notch. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” Eddie replies in a hushed tone. Steve Harrington is reading The Hobbit. This fact somehow has him feeling more faint than seeing him in Eddie’s own jacket. He clears his throat, face hot, heartbeat rapid. “Should—should we go?”

His voice squeaks awkwardly, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice. He just beams up at Eddie and takes two graceful steps back off the front stoop, holding his arm out to gesture Eddie over the threshold of his own trailer.

Eddie slams the door, muffling Wayne’s embarrassing call of, “have him home by ten!” just in time.

He skips down the steps and latches onto Steve’s held out arm, letting Steve lead him toward his car like a gentleman.

“You know, I think Chrissy and Jeff had some sort of weird sex thing with this jacket?” Eddie asks, shaking his arm demonstratively.

“Yeah, Chrissy told me.”

"Seriously?" Eddie squawks, stopping suddenly enough that he kicks up gravel beneath his boots.

"No, you idiot,” Steve says, laughing at him even as he stops beside him, still holding onto Eddie’s arm.

“Oh, good because—”

“Jeff did.”

Eddie sputters, eyes wide until he turns and sees Steve’s shit-stirring grin. “You’re the worst,” he says, pouting as Steve just starts laughing again. “Why do I even like you?”

That has Steve’s ears turning pink, and his eyes averting to look toward his car, seeming almost shy. “Well,” he starts before cutting himself off when his voice comes out strangely high. He clears his throat and continues, “shall we?”

Steve gestures toward his parked car with his free hand because return of The King or not, this guy’s somehow, inexplicably, a nerd.

Eddie wants to kiss him about it, but they’re in public, already toeing the line of what’s acceptable in polite society, so all he does is squeeze Steve’s arm where it’s still wrapped around his and reply, “we shall.”

There will be time for kisses later—time for all of the things Eddie’s finding he wants to do with Steve Harrington.

They’ve got nothing but time.

The End

If you've read this far, thank you so much! Especially if you've like, reblogged, or commented. It all means so much to me, and I appreciate every single one of you.

This could have gone on for another 50k, I'm sure, but this feels like the right ending to me. It's not a story about Being Together, it's a story about Finding Each Other, and they've both done that, with Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and now with each other <3<3<3

Now, one final shoutout to @queenie-ofthe-void for both being the best beta a guy can ask for, and to be the one who came up with this idea at all. It literally couldn't exist without you, and I appreciate you so much <3<3<3

[somethingvicked]

Forget me (not) pt 3

warnings: female reader, talk of memory loss, angst to fluff

You stared at Eddie, your head pounding from the sudden overload of information that just broke through the wall that had been there.

You felt the overwhelming love you had for Eddie, had had for so long. But you also remembered what he had told you, how he had pushed you aside like you were nothing, for Chrissy.

You pulled back, as if he had burned you and Eddie looked at you in panic, like a deer in the headlights.

“Easy, sweetheart, easy…” he started and you suddenly saw red.

“Don’t call me that!” you snapped and he paled. “I’m not your sweetheart any longer, don’t you remember? Because I sure do.”

But at the same time… Eddie had been at your side practically all this time. Why had he? Wasn’t he scared what Chrissy would think?

No, of course he wasn’t. Because he wanted to stay friends with you, he just didn’t want you to have feelings for him. And then you forgot them, a small voice in your head said.

Well, it worked out quite well for him, didn’t it?

You rose to your feet and Eddie quickly did the same, still looking at you like you were some unstable lunatic with a ticking bomb.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you said, your voice tense. “It clearly worked. And so I guess you better go back to Chrissy, since I now remember everything.”

“Wait, no, Y/N, it’s not like that…”

“I’m back to my old self now, Eddie,” you growled at him. “You don’t need to protect me anymore or do your duty as a friend.”

“Sweetheart, me and Chrissy broke up!”

That made you stop dead in your tracks and you turned around. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded, panting as if he was in pain. “About two weeks after… your accident. She didn’t like that I spent all my time with you…”

You hadn’t thought it was possible for you to be more angry at him, but lo and behold!

“Are you saying it’s my fault she dumped you, Munson?!” you screeched, grimacing as the loud sound made your headache worse.

“No!” Eddie all but squeaked, “I… I’m trying to say that… being at your side was all I wanted. What happened… it made me realize… how much you mean to me. And I know I was an idiot, an insensitive dolt, a goddamn jerk! I hate myself for treating you that way and making you feel like you were not the most important person in my life! Always had been.”

By now he was nearly sobbing, tears brimming in his eyes. “When I heard what had happened… you have no idea… I thought you had died. And the last conversation I had with you was that I wished  you forgot everything.”

“And I did,” you said, shaking your head, still angry with him, but his tears and broken puppy eyes had made it go down a little. The fucker, even when he didn’t try he knew how to play you like a fiddle.

“Yes, you did. You didn’t remember me. I know I deserved it. To have you looking at me like I was a stranger, not being allowed to tickle you or carry you on my back… you remembering everyone else, but not me. I deserved that. But Y/N… please believe me when I say that you are the most important person in my life. When you left that day I sat and contemplated who I would miss more if I would never see them again – you or Chrissy. And… me never seeing Chrissy again, it didn’t made that much of a difference. But the thought of being without you, it made me… I felt shattered. I was going to call you, but then they called me and told me what had happened.”

You rubbed your temples. All of this… it was too much for you to handle right now.

“I… I need to go home,” you got out. “Think about all this.”

“I’ll drive you,” Eddie said, but you shook your head. “I want to be alone.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie said with a frown. “I’m not letting you walk home after regaining your memories and had such a shock. What if something happens? No, get in the van. I’ll drive you. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to, but you’re not walking.”

A part of you wanted to smile, both at his stubbornness and with how he cared for you. But the rest of you were still so shaky after everything that you just pushed it away.

A little while later you sat in your room, back at your desk with the photo album in front of you. Eddie had kept his promise and not talked to you the whole way home, even though he had glanced over at you at least one time every minute.

Despite having your memory back completely you felt more confused than ever.

Thankfully your mother had gone to the grocery store, thinking you were spending the day with Eddie, so you didn’t have to go through the roller coaster to tell her you were back to normal.

You weren’t sure what to do with Eddie. Remembering how he had treated you when he got together with Chrissy and his reaction when you told him how you felt about him… it made you feel heartbroken all over again but also angry.

And then… then you remembered how he had supported you and stood by you these last weeks, never quitting on you despite you not remembering anything about him, no matter how he had tried.

It felt like your head was about to explode. This was just too big and complicated for you to take on by yourself.

Usually you went to Eddie if you needed advice and talk something out but obviously that was a no go.

You didn’t want to talk to your mother either, it was enough you had to tell her your memory was back – your parents had been through hell, probably more so than you these last couple of weeks, you didn’t want to worry them even more.

After some time of contemplating you decided to call Steve. He was Eddie’s friend, he was your friend, and he knew the history between you two. He seemed like a good choice.

Steve didn’t dawdle, he arrived less than ten minutes after you hung up. The first thing he did when you opened the door was to give you a big hug.

“I’m so happy your memory is fully recovered,” he told you with a smile. “Although I still would’ve hoped you forgot about me being King Steve forever.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at that as you two walked up to your room.

You and Steve sat at the floor on your bedroom, backs leaned against your bed as you told him about the moment when you remembered everything, your reaction to Eddie, and how you felt so lost on what to do now.

Steve was quiet for a moment, running a hand through his hair, clearly deep in thought.

“You know I think what he did to you was really shitty. I seriously could have beaten him up for being so insensitive,” he told you, making you snort.

“But, he did tell me the same story – that even before you crashed into the tree he was imagining his life without you and without Chrissy. It was you that he almost broke down over losing. And this whole time… please forgive me for this, Y/N, but I actually told him that perhaps he should give you some space, do something else when the time went on and you didn’t remember a single thing about him. It was slowly draining him, he… he couldn’t fall asleep without looking at old pictures of you, crying.”

You were shocked. “Really?”

“Yeah. And – let me just say I didn’t exactly agree with that either – but he didn’t even look at Chrissy after your accident. Couldn’t stand to be near her. I think… I think he felt like it was his fault, what had happened to you, because he had been with her.”

“But I didn’t want him to do this because he felt guilty!” you protested.

“That’s what I said too, but he insisted that’s not why. And you know what? I believed him.”

Steve smiled at you and patted your shoulder. “Y/N, love is not easy. Everyone keeps saying it is but it’s really a fucking mess. When I was with Nancy I spray painted the sign of the cinema, calling her a slut. All because I thought she had cheated on me. The first girl I loved and I did that to her.”

You shook your head. You remembered that very clearly. It was before you and Steve became friends but you had still heard about it from the others.

“What I’m saying is… yes, Eddie was a goddamn idiot. But he realized he was and what he did wrong. And he has tried to make it right, and he will keep trying to make it right, if you let him. So… only you can decide whether you want to forgive Eddie or not, Y/N. But… perhaps you should try and do what he did. Try imagining the rest of your life without him. Does that feel like something you would be okay with?”

Your felt your breath hitch and your stomach turn into knots. A life without Eddie? It felt like… like suddenly the same feeling from your memory loss was back. Only now it wasn’t the past you missed but the future. It was only blank.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Then there’s your answer,” Steve told you softly.

Steve drove you to the trailer park and you walked up to the Munson’s trailer and knocked on the door.

Eddie opened, and you got the feeling of dejá vu from the last time you had come here. But Eddie sure looked different.

He looked as if he had cried, his hair a nest, as if he had ran his fingers through the curls multiple times, his knuckles bruised as if he had punched a wall.

“Y/N?” he wondered in surprise when he saw you.

“Hey,” you said, smiling weakly. “Look, Eddie…”

“Is this the moment where you… you’re going to tell me that you never want to see me again?” Eddie interrupted, his voice trembling, and it honestly broke your heart.

“No,” you told, reaching out a pushing a curl out of his face. “I… I’m still quite angry with you for what you did. But… it feels like this whole thing, what happened… it was some sort of lesson for both of us. A lesson for you to have me forget you. And a lesson for me, how it would feel to have no connection to you. The feeling, when I think back of how it felt, not knowing everything that has happened between us… it was horrible. I don’t want to be without you again, or ever forget you again. Not even the stupid thing you did, even though it makes me want to shake you.”

Eddie let out a gasp and then he all but squished you against him, holding you so hard you were sure you would have bruises.

“Oh, sweetheart…” he whispered, carefully kissing your temple. The bruises were healed but he remembered them all too vividly, kissing every spot where they had been.

“I’m so sorry for what I did. And for how I behaved when I started dating Chrissy. I just… I guess I got caught up with how it felt that someone popular actually wanted me. And in the back of my head I always thought you and I would have more time. I was an idiot, I know that. I will never make that mistake again.”

He inhaled before he continued: “And I’m so sorry that I never realized… that you loved me. I… I wished I had realized it sooner but I didn’t…”

You shushed him. “I know. That’s what I mean, that maybe the accident happening… it was a wake up call for both of us.”

Eddie nodded. “Yes. I’ve always loved you, sweetheart. But it’s more than that. You… you’re my person. The reason why it has never worked out with any other girl. Why I couldn’t see a future with Chrissy. Because you were the one.”

Now it was your turn to blink back tears.

Eddie suddenly pulled something from his pocket. Your eyes widened when you saw it was the dried flower from the scene of the accident.

“I found it in the van, on the passenger seat,” Eddie said. “I want you to have this and save it. As a reminder, that you will never forget me again. And as a promise from me, that I will never forget you’re the only one I want.”

You smiled, and placed the blue Forget-me-not behind your ear.

“The only one?”

“The only one,” Eddie promised, sealing it with a kiss.

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[munson-blurbs]

Everybody Talks (Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You've worked hard to keep your crush on your best friend a secret, since he doesn't feel the same way. But when the Hellfire Club members open their big mouths, it threatens everything you've tried to hold together.

Warnings: some angst, fluff, mentions of financial insecurity

WC: 1.5k

--

“Pizza’s here!” you call out, carrying a stack of pies into the Wheeler house. “I got one pepperoni, one mushroom, and one plain for all the boring people,” you tease, looking directly at Eddie as you say it.

“I prefer classic,” he retorts, taking the boxes from your hands and setting them on the table. The rest of the guys start to crowd around him, paper plates in hand, practically drooling at just the sight of food. “Hey, hey,” he chastises, pushing them out of the way, “ladies first.” He offers you a plate and you take a slice, quickly moving aside before you’re trampled by the herd of hungry teenage boys.

“So,” Gareth says to Eddie between bites, “your last Hellfire campaign is over and done with. How’s it feel?”

“You wish,” Eddie scoffs, plopping down next to you on the sofa. “Just because I’m graduating doesn’t mean I’m done kicking your asses in D&D.” He chugs his plastic cup filled with Mountain Dew and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Anyone else want a refill?” he asks, shaking his empty cup before looking over at you. “Oh, shit; you don’t have anything to drink. Diet Coke, right?” Before you can protest that you can get it yourself, he’s up and pouring you a glass.

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a sip. The bubbles fizz on your tongue as you lean back, careful not to get too close to Eddie. Not that you don’t want to; the mere thought of him draping his tattooed arm around your shoulders makes you giddy. 

Just a few more months, you think to yourself, and I’ll be off at college, meeting new people, and I won’t have to worry about my embarrassing crush on my best friend.

“You guys ready for prom tomorrow?” Mike asks, interrupting your pity party.

Jeff nods. “Just gotta pick up a corsage for Barb, and she’s getting me a, um, a…”

“Boutonniere?” you fill in helpfully, and he snaps his fingers and replies, “yeah, that thing.”

“What about you?” Lucas pipes up, turning to Eddie. “You ever decide who to ask?”

“Oh, he decided,” Jeff laughs, earning a scowl from his friend. “Too bad she decided to go with Jason Carver.”

Dustin throws his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, you’re still hung up on Chrissy Cunningham?” He rolls his eyes. “I told you; she’s sweet, but she’s not your type. You need someone who’s as nerdy as you are.” His eyes scan the room. “You know, like Y/N.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation, not at Dustin calling you a nerd; you know he means that with utmost affection. It’s not even the idea of Eddie asking you out that has you nervous; it’s the prospect of him laughing at the thought. You’ve done a great job hiding your puppy love a secret from him, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“Ha!” Gareth barks out. “She wishes!”

No. No no no.

Tears spring to your eyes, and you can’t think of a decent excuse to leave before you’re dashing through the door, letting the screen slam behind you. There’s no lie in what Gareth said; you do wish Eddie had asked you to prom. Every time that the subject of the dance came up, you’d waited with baited breath to see if he’d say something to you. But he’d always ignore it, eager to move on to the next topic. And now you knew why: he wanted to take Chrissy, but she was in love with someone else. How ironic.

You’re almost at your car when you hear the squeak of the front door opening. “Sweetheart, wait!” Eddie shouts, probably a bit too loud for the short distance between you two. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him softly as he jogs over to where you’re leaning against the passenger side door. “‘S not your fault.”

“Kinda is,” he shrugs, bringing you to the front steps and motioning for you to sit next to him. “I mean, I was the one who went to a freshman for romantic advice. That’s the last time I do that; I don’t care how nauseatingly cute he and his singing girlfriend are.” He gives a small chuckle, but neither of you meet the other’s gaze.

Hold on. Freshman? Singing girlfriend? “Eddie, what are you talking about?”

Eddie stops gnawing on his lower lip long enough to answer you. “I’m talking about you being embarrassed by Henderson’s painfully obvious last-ditch effort to get me to man up and finally ask you out.” His brows furrow when he sees your similarly confused expression. “That’s not…what are you upset about?”

“Um, Gareth blabbing to everyone that I wanted you to ask me to prom?” You finally allow yourself to look at him, noticing the dejected look on his face. 

“I couldn’t do that,” he mutters, resting his palm sideways over his mouth and shifting his body away from yours. His words come out all muffled, but you can still make out what they are.

“I wouldn’t have said no to you,” you reassure him, mustering up all of your courage to place your hand on his bouncing knee. He relaxes almost immediately, but he still seems sad. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

His eyes are misty when he turns back to you. “I couldn’t ask you to prom because…because I couldn’t afford it,” he confesses, twisting his skull ring around his finger anxiously. “The tickets, a tux, those fancy wrist things…best I could do is steal some flowers from Mrs. Wheeler’s garden.” He hums out a sad laugh. “‘M sorry, sweetheart. I wanted to take you, but I knew I’d just be letting you down.”

“But Jeff said you were going to ask Chrissy,” you point out.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong; Chrissy’s nice and everything, but I just said that so he’d get off my back. Because if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t shut up until I made a move.” He sighs. “His dad’s a lawyer, and his mom runs her own business. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to worry about having enough food in the house, let alone all the extra shit like prom.”

You’re quiet for a beat, letting everything sink in. You knew Eddie lived in Forest Hills Trailer Park, and you knew money was often tight. Wayne worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, but the plant didn’t pay nearly enough. There were many occasions where you’d spotted Eddie eyeing something in the grocery store and instinctively thrown it in your cart for him, but for some reason, it hadn’t even occurred to you that finances was the reason he’d avoided talking about the prom.

“I wish you’d told me,” you finally say. “I would’ve understood.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie rubs his nose against his hand, another nervous tic of his. “That was never the problem. You’re the most understanding fuckin’ person I know. You just…I dunno. You deserve the whole ‘prom’ experience, not whatever half-ass version I could offer you.”

At that, you can’t help but giggle. “Eddie,” you begin, “do you really think I wanted to go to prom so I could wear a fancy dress and uncomfortable shoes in a stuffy gym? I just wanted to dance with you, and then spend the night on your couch watching stupid movies and eating junk food and talking shit about everyone who was there.” You look deep into his chocolate brown eyes, nearly losing yourself in their beauty. “I just wanted to be with you.”

Eddie stares at you, gaze traveling down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“If you don’t, I’ll kiss you.” 

Your mouths crash together clumsily, but you’re too happy to care. You soak in every part of it: Eddie’s stubble rubbing against your chin, the way he tastes like stale cigarettes and marinara sauce, his curls brushing your cheeks. He only breaks the kiss to take a breath, and then he’s back, more purposeful in his movements the second time around. He brings his hand to your jawline, caressing it gingerly with his thumb as he parts your lips with his.

“Can’t believe I just did that,” he muses, smiling at you shyly. “Been wanting to kiss you for too goddamn long.” He leans in, frowning when you place your hand on his chest to stop him. “What?”

“You gotta take me on a date before you kiss me again,” you inform him, lacing your fingers through his. “When are you free?”

“Uh, right now? We can grab ice cream at Scoops. Lemme just get my keys.” He stands up quickly to head back towards the house.

“Wait, Eddie,” you call out to him, “what about the guys? And pizza night?”

“Who cares? I have a date with the most beautiful girl in Hawkins.”

--

[ashwhowrites]

Can you please write Older! Eddie x reader who is the daughter of Jason or Billy, and he has a lot of power in Hawkins, Reader hates how his dad is and she starts dating Eddie but her dad doesn't approve that, but she's older and she can decide for herself who to date? (Can you please do it angst to fluff?)

On my knees for older! Eddie fics. I hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3

I added a little bonus angst at the end but still a happy ending. Little bits of smut talk because I have no self control.

I'm writing this as my boyfriend watches Spencer Reid instead of me who's on face time (naked)

Trailer trash hero

⚠️mentions/action of abuse

Y/N hated that everyone in town associated her with her dad, Jason Carver. He was the mayor of Hawkins and Y/N did not fit the look that her family had.

She resented her father, he criticized everything she did and always demanded more from her. She was sick and tired of it. After one huge argument, she went out to the bar, her fake ID never failed her and she prayed it didn't fail her today. Even if it did, she knew the owner and could easily get herself in. She was almost twenty-one anyway. A few months barely made a difference. She was sick of living under her father's roof. She needed a drink to take off the edge.

She sat on the small stool and ordered a drink. She took her time to slip on it slowly as her eyes looked around the bar. Her eyes caught a pair of brown that were staring right at her.

That was the night she met Eddie Munson.

~~~

After that night, she couldn't stop thinking about the handsome older man who talked to her all night long. His strong jaw, aged eyes, and deep voice. She kept going back to that bar, praying he'd be there. And he always was.

It didn't take long for them to start flirting and going on dates. Texting through all hours of the night. He was older, and mature. She couldn't lie, it turned her on. She was tired of boys, but Eddie? He was a man. And he fucked her way better than she's ever had.

After a few months, it became more serious. She admitted she was only twenty and still lived at home, but he didn't care. They spent night after night at his house, rolling her eyes through the lecture of her parents when she came home the next morning. But nothing stopped her from doing it again and again.

"We've been going out for almost a year, don't you think I should meet your parents?" Eddie asked, his face nuzzled in her neck, his slight facial hair tickling her as he laid on her. Her hands played with his long hair and scratched his neck slightly.

"Eddie, I love you and I love everything about you. But they are going to hate you." She laughed, Eddie rolled his eyes and removed himself from her neck. Looking up at her with a small smile.

"Even if they do, at least I know I made the effort." He said, even though he was in his forties, he knew how to use his puppy eyes.

"I'm scared." She admitted quietly. Eddie turned his head confused, wrapping his arm around her.

"It's just, my dad...he has a lot of power in this shitty town and he could easily tear us apart. I love you and I don't want him to ruin this for us." She explained, Eddie watched as the tears welled in her eyes. He quickly sat up and took her head in his hands, pecking her lips softly.

"No one would ever keep me away from you. I love you and I'm not going to let anyone stop us, okay? Let's just try. And if it goes south, we don't worry about it. We'll do us."

Somehow Eddie convinced her and as she held his hand as they walked up to her front door, she regretted it.

"Hey, look at me. We'll do this together." He smiled, squeezing her hand as he knocked on the door.

"Just be polite." She warned.

As the door swung open, Eddie found himself looking in the past.

"Mom!" Y/N cheered, letting go of Eddie's hand as she wrapped her arms around her.

"Eddie!" Chrissy panicked, seeing the tall and older man over her daughter's shoulder.

"Chrissy, what a surprise," Eddie said, awkwardly scratching his head as he took her in. He was dating Chrissy's daughter, how the fuck did he get himself in this position.

"You know each other?" Y/N asked, looking between the two as they stared at each other.

"Yeah, he was a high school friend. What is he doing here?" Chrissy asked, praying he wasn't the guest Y/N asked to bring.

"He's my boyfriend, and he wanted to meet you guys," Y/N said, now feeling even more nervous about the situation. Her parents went to the same high school if Chrissy knew Eddie....her father did.

"I had no idea she was your daughter." Eddie clarified, holding his hands up in surrender as he cringed under Chrissy's familiar glare.

"He's going to murder you, Munson," Chrissy warned but welcomed him in. She always liked Eddie, but Jason was never a fan.

"Is he home yet?" Y/N asked, she knew this was a bad idea. Maybe they had time to run and hide.

"He's on his way. And he already is unhappy knowing you have a boyfriend that you spend the night with...and once he knows it's Eddie Munson that you are sleeping over with, he's going to flip. But I will try my best to keep him collected." Chrissy said. But she tried to treat him like he was just her daughter's boyfriend.

"Well I'll set up the table while you show Eddie around," Chrissy said, walking towards the kitchen. Smiling Eddie immediately reached for Y/N's hand as they began their tour of the house.

Y/N showed Eddie around, trying to cover the portraits of her on the wall.

"I am not surprised Chrissy put you in a beauty pageant, and I'm not surprised you won." Eddie laughed, looking at the small girl in the frame.

"Careful Eddie, that little girl is definitely underage." Y/N joked

"Yeah, but luckily this one isn't." He smirked, giving her ass a small smack when she turned. As they looked at more pictures and ended up in her bedroom, she was dying to ask.

"Did you get along with either of my parents?"

"Your mom was cool with me. But your dad hated me, and I'm sure that hasn't changed. He made my life hell." Eddie explained, and Y/N felt bad. She knew her father was a pain in the ass and it sucked to know he treated Eddie so poorly.

"Well, I hate him too. And honestly, I'm glad he's going to hate you. Because he'll forever have to live with the fact that his precious daughter is fucking the bad boy from his high school." Y/N smirked, crawling on his lap, her soft bed underneath them as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mhhm I agree," Eddie moaned as she sucked on his neck, "he's going to throw a little bitch fit. He thought I'd do nothing with my life. But seeing you with me, definitely proving him wrong."

"He's going to be rude and an ass. But don't let him get in your head. You're amazing, handsome, successful, and can achieve anything. Don't listen to him." She explained, moving away from his neck to kiss his lips.

"Definitely gonna listen to the one who will be sucking me off tonight." He smirked, his hand around her throat as he held her close to him. Kissing her hard as she moaned against him.

"Y/N!" Chrissy yelled from downstairs, Y/N pulled away from Eddie, kissing him softly, then moving off of his lap. She grabbed his hand and took a deep breath.

"Ready?" Eddie asked, kissing her forehead as she nodded.

"Mhhm, so is the hickey." She said smirking.

Y/N walked down the stairs, Eddie behind her as he followed close. The front door was empty so she walked into the kitchen. Her parents sat at the dining table as she walked up.

"Dad, this is Eddie. My boyfriend." She watched as her dad looked up, anger filling his eyes as he stood up.

"Jason, be nice," Chrissy warned but it was too late, Jason was already storming towards them. He harshly yanked Y/N away, her hand removed from Eddie's as she yelped. Eddie looked at her, but she nodded that she was fine. Her father's grip was tight on her wrist.

"Get the fuck out of my house, you freak," Jason growled, but Eddie stood his ground.

"Now Jason, is that any way to talk to a guest? Especially one that is your daughter's boyfriend?" Eddie teased, but his teasing only made Jason's grip become more bruising.

"You are not dating my daughter. I don't know what kind of sick game you are playing. But she isn't going to be your little game piece."

"I didn't even know she was your kid until I got here. This isn't some sick game of revenge. Y/N isn't a game piece. We are in a relationship, a committed and loving relationship. You aren't ruining this for us." Eddie explained, his eyes on Jason but flickering to his grip on Y/N.

"There isn't a relationship. She is never seeing you again. Y/N get upstairs, you are grounded." Jason barked, his eyes turning to her.

"Jason, calm down." Chrissy tried

"NO! I'm an adult and you can't ground me. I'm not breaking up with him!" Y/N argued, trying to yank her wrist away but his grip was too tight.

"YES YOU ARE! Get upstairs, NOW!" He screamed in her face. Eddie didn't like the way Y/N was shaking.

"Let go of her." Eddie barked, Jason's head snapped to him.

"You don't tell me what to do."

"You're hurting her, let her go," Eddie growled, moving closer slowly.

"DON'T COME NEAR US!" Jason's grip was somehow tightening.

"Dad, please. You're hurting me." Y/N pleaded, tears in her eyes as her wrist burned.

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, his attention on her as he gripped her tighter. "I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING! AND YOU NEVER RESPECT ME. YOU GO OUT TO BARS, SLEEPING WITH GOD KNOWS WHO. I DIDN'T RAISE YOU TO BE A SLUT!"

"I'M NOT! EDDIE IS THE ONLY GUY I'VE BEEN WITH SINCE HIGH SCHOOL!" she yelled back. Chrissy cried as she tried to scream for them to stop. She worriedly looked at Eddie, he was slowly moving closer.

"AND ONLY LOW-LIFE SLUTS HAVE EVER GONE OUT WITH TRAILER TRASH EDDIE MUNSON!"

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM! HE ISN'T TRASH. HE'S A DAMN GOOD GUY, HE HAS HIS OWN COMPANY, AND HE HAS A BEAUTIFUL HOUSE. A HOUSE WHERE WE FUCK EVERYWHERE. HELL, WE EVEN FUCK IN PUB-"

The room fell silent when Jason's hand raised and went across Y/N's face. The loud smack echoed as Eddie raced to yank Jason away.

"NO DAUGHTER OF MINE WILL BE A DISRESPECTFUL SLUT! YOU DON'T TALK TO ME LIKE THAT. AND YOU ARE BANNED FROM SEEING HIM! GET OFF OF ME!"

Y/N sobbed as she felt the heat on her cheek, embarrassed of the way her father reacted in front of her boyfriend. Chrissy raced to Eddie and Jason, trying to get them apart.

But Eddie wasn't calm, and he wasn't ever going to be calm around Jason. Eddie tackled Jason to the floor, his fist connecting with Jason's nose. Jason yelled in pain and punched Eddie back. The two were rolling around and landing punches on each other.

"JASON! STOP!" Chrissy begged, screaming as she tried to yank Jason's arm while he was on top of Eddie.

"Y/N HELP!" her mom screamed, Y/N quickly raced to them, and Jason tackled Eddie into the table, both crashing through the glass. Both groaned in pain, Y/N raced to Eddie's side, not caring about the glass as she kneeled right next to him.

His face was bloody, and bruising. She cupped his face as she ran her thumb over his skin. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry." She sobbed, and Eddie groaned as he grabbed her hand.

"Baby, the glass. Careful." He moaned as he tried to shift. But his body ached everywhere.

Jason didn't take much of the fall since he landed on Eddie. Quickly rising to his feet he grabbed Y/N by her arm to drag her away. Her legs scraped against the class as she cried out in pain.

"I SAID DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HER!" Eddie screamed, all his adrenaline helping him race to his feet. Wrapping his arm around Jason's waist he threw them both to the ground. Eddie's hand wrapped around Jason's throat, squeezing as the anger rushed over his body.

"EDDIE! STOP!" Chrissy screamed, terrified as she shook but raced to Y/N. She carefully picked her up, but Y/N pushed her off. She used all her strength to race to Eddie.

"BABY! STOP! YOU'LL KILL HIM" she panicked. Eddie snapped his eyes to her, taking in her red cheek, with Jason's handprint, and her bloody legs as the cuts bled. It only angered him more.

"He hurt you" Eddie growled, squeezing Jason's neck harder as Jason clawed at his grip.

"I KNOW! I KNOW. BUT THINK! YOU'LL GET LOCKED UP IN PRISON!" Y/N tried to reason with him, slowly moving closer as she begged Eddie to let Jason go.

"Just like your dad" Jason choked out from under Eddie's grip. Eddie glared down at him but removed his hand. Jason gasped for air as he tried to shove Eddie off of him.

Eddie grabbed Jason by his shirt collar, nose to nose as he growled down at him. "I will never be like him. You are so lucky I love your daughter enough to not kill you right here, right now. If you ever touch her again, you won't be so lucky." Dropping Jason his head smacked against the floor, passing out.

Eddie stood up and Y/N raced into his arms. "I got you, baby" Eddie cooed as she sobbed into his chest. Her breathing was uneven as she panicked.

"I'm so sorry" Chrissy apologized, sobbing as she watched Eddie hold her daughter.

Eddie didn't say a word, carefully grabbing Y/N in his arms as he carried her to the door.

"EDDIE!" Chrissy yelled after them, but he kept going, opening the door as he carried her out. But Chrissy raced after them.

"PLEASE!" She screamed again. But Eddie ignored her, placing Y/N softly in his passenger seat. He buckled her and softly kissed her lips.

"Stay right here. I'm going to pack you a bag, we'll go to the hospital, and then we'll go to my house. Okay?" He said softly, she nodded as she rested her head against the seat.

Eddie shut the door and walked right into Chrissy. "Please, I just want to say goodbye." She begged.

"Did you let him do it before?" Eddie asked, his eyes dark as he looked down at her. Chrissy shook her head confused as she tried to look over his shoulder to see Y/N.

"Have you let him touch her before?" Eddie asked again, this time more demanding.

"No! He's never done that." Chrissy confirmed, Eddie sighed and let her go, racing into the house to pack Y/N's belongings. He grabbed everything he could, making sure he grabbed the things he heard her talk about the most and her favorite clothes.

By the time he made it out to his van, Chrissy was saying goodbye. Tears down her face as she kissed Y/N's head.

"I have to get her to the hospital," Eddie said as he threw the bags in the back. Chrissy nodded and stepped back, her hand grabbing Eddie's arm before he could leave.

"Take care of her, please."

"Always have and always will," Eddie promised, slamming the door shut. He started the van and took off towards the hospital.

"How are you feeling, baby?" He asked, looking over at her as she smiled at him.

"Told you it was a bad idea." She said, a teasing smile on her bruised face.

"...yeah. I should just always listen to you." He teased back, his soft hand landing on her thigh as he rubbed it softly.

"Listen to the one who's gonna suck you off." She repeated his words from earlier with a giggle.

"I love you." He said, smiling at her as he turned to get on the highway.

"I love you too, my hero." She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Eddie pulled up to the hospital, carrying her in as he explained the situation. The nurses and doctors worked on her as Eddie got checked out for his cuts and bruises. He waited impatiently until he was able to see her.

"You can see her now." Eddie raced into her room at the news, sitting beside her as he held her hand.

"I'm all good! A few stitches from the glass but otherwise we are good to go!" Eddie nodded and helped her stand up, making their way out to his van.

"Ready to go to my place?" He asked, opening the door as she slid in.

"Let's go home, Munson."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

[wormdebut]

SEPTEMBER MICROFIC: GUERRILLA

@steddiemicrofic | Word: Charm | Word Count: 548 Rated: T (As always for swears) | CW: none

——

“But why do I have to be the one to go meet this guy, Chris? Send Jeff or—“ Eddie cuts himself off, in favor of smacking at his managers shoulder—“Here’s an idea, send Freddy! He would love to go to an—art show? Art Event?” Eddie wasn’t entirely sure what a showing of ones projects was called, but he digressed. “Anywhozle, send Fred.”

Chrissy tuts at him. “No, it will be you. Mr. Harrington requested you specifically, Eddie. You’re going.”

“Chris, Steve Harrington is fucking terrifying.” Eddie complained, following Chrissy around his apartment like a lost puppy.

“Christ, Eddie. You haven’t even met the man, let alone seen him. It’s a fucking honor, he’s even willing to meet with you. So if Steve God Damn Harrington wants to see Eddie Munson, then that’s how it’s gonna be.” Chrissy shoves a fitted burgundy suit into Eddie’s arms. “And, you’re going to dress nice.”

Eddie folds. “Alright, okay. But why do I have to go alone?” He pouts, and Chrissy just rolls her eyes.

“Honestly, Eddie, for someone who begged me to get you in contact with—and I quote—‘the sickest guerrilla artist since Banksy’. You sure are being a pain in the ass about this.” Chrissy sighs, patting Eddie’s hand before turning toward his front door. “The car will be here in less then hour. Do what you always do, make some friends and wait till he’s ready to speak with you. I promise it will be worth it Eds.”

See Eddie was nervous. Because Steve Harrington was fucking talented. He was smart and charming and a fucking bad ass. Corroded Coffin needed his art for their newest album. It was the only thing Eddie could think about if he was being honest.

Eddie didn’t even know what the man looked like, but he had read interview after interview. Not only did Harrington read well on paper, but the art that he put out was insane.

It would be fine. Eddie could talk to Steve Harrington. He could charm his way through this, just like he did with everything else in his career.

——

The room Eddie found himself in was huge. It was spacious and Harrington’s pieces were splayed everywhere. It was stunning and Eddie needed this art on his damn album, he needed it tattooed on his damn eyelids—

“Tattooed on your eyelids huh?”

Eddie jumps at the voice behind him.

“Ah shit, did I say that out loud? I was distracted—“ Eddie’s voice fades out as he meets the other man’s eyes.

Damn. If all art snobs are this pretty, he’s going to have to visit more art…places…

“Are you a fan of the artist?” The man asks, with a smirk and—That’s hot.

Eddie blinks, “I’m kinda obsessed actually. I think he’s a fucking genius. I have this little band—well we aren’t really little. We are kind of a big deal I guess, but I basically need him to agree to do this piece and I just—“ Eddie paused, eyes wide. The man in front of him holding back what was clearly a laugh. Great. Eddie was so good at this people thing.

“I’m sorry, I’m rambling—What did you say your name was?” Eddie asks, blush overtaking his face.

The man laughed. “I didn’t. I’m Steve.”

Oh shit.

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 3

Hey guys!! Thank you to all who have liked, commented, and reblogged this fun story!

We're in Utah for a little while longer as both Eddie and Steve fun fan encounters.

Part 1 Part 2

~

It took them a couple of tries at a few stores to get them everything they needed to dress up. But when they got everything, they all piled into Robin and Chrissy’s hotel room to get changed.

Chrissy bit her lip as she looked at Steve. “I mean it’s what he looks like, but it could be anyone, you know?”

Robin nodded. “If we had like green makeup or something that we could put on his fingers and neck, then we could make it look like he’s about to transform.”

“Oh I know!” Chrissy said, snapping her fingers. “There’s this green concealer stuff that when you put it on bruises and shit it hides it really well, but on normal skin it’s very green.”

Steve pursed his lips together and silent walked to his overnight bag that had all his toiletries in it. He rummaged around in it for a moment and then tossed something at Chrissy, who caught it deftly in her hands.

She looked at the object. It was the concealer she was talking about, she opened it to find it half used. She looked up at Steve who was a deep shade of red and Eddie who looked like a kicked puppy.

“Why do you have this, Steve?” she asked slowly, turning the bottle between her forefinger and thumb.

Steve coughed and turned away, absentmindedly scratching his cheek. “So you know how on tour we had to make sure that people didn’t think Eddie and me were a couple?”

“Yeah?” Chrissy said, tilting her head to the side.

“Oooh, gross!” Robin cried. “No, no, no.” When Chrissy didn’t catch on, she huffed, “it’s for hickeys. Hickeys from his boyfriend!”

Chrissy’s eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. “Are you seriously telling me that you have been covering up hickeys from Eddie for almost a year?!”

Steve straightened and said quite proudly, “My boyfriend is very bitey. I think it’s cute.” Then it was Eddie’s turn to go bright red. He shoved his hair in front of his mouth to hide the blush.

“I like biting,” Eddie quoted with a shy smile, “it’s like kissing bu there’s a winner.”

Steve kissed his cheek. “So let’s get all the mocking and teasing out of the way now, but because once we exit this hotel room, it is no longer a valid thing to tease Eddie with.”

“Or Steve!” Eddie added, glaring at a Robin with a mischievous grin.

“You’re no fun!” she huffed, but folded when Chrissy put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Fine, I won’t tease you two about needing fucking concealer because you two are hornier than dogs in heat.”

Eddie deflated. “I just get carried away sometimes. Especially when I haven’t seen him in awhile because we’re supposed to be ‘keeping our distance’ or whatever.” He used air quotes around the phrase.

Chrissy crumpled too. She was all ready to tease them too, but looking at them now, both of them looking so crestfallen, she just couldn’t do it. Because of who Eddie was and who Steve sometimes was, they had to hide their relationship.

“Come on,” she said gently, “let’s get this put on you so we call all go to this convention.”

Steve nodded and followed her into the bathroom to get made up.

~

Eddie, Steve, Robin, and Chrissy all paid for their day badges and slipped into the convention center. Steve was immediately overwhelmed. He had played to sold out stadiums, but that couldn’t hold a candle to sheer amount of people milling about. Mostly because there was a barrier between him and the people.

They could see all sorts of cosplayers wandering around the halls. Some in crappy little homemade stuff with cardboard and duck tape. Others in minimal effort costumes like they were. Then there were the people in cosplays that must have taken weeks, if not months to make. Warhammer space marines, a Krogan, and War from Darksiders, Hela from Marvel, a nine tailed fox, complete with hand dyed kimono.

They saw a couple of people dressed as angels from that one long running TV show. Then they passed a booth that proudly displayed that they were the Salt Lake City chapter of the Ghostbusters. Complete with their own Echo 1.

What really cinched it though was passing the main stairs and seeing all Scooby-Doo gang people taking group pictures on them.

“Um,” Chrissy said, walking backwards looking at all the Daphnes, all the Freds and Scaggys, all the Velmas and a handful of Scooby-doos. “You don’t suppose that the cars we saw at the McCune mansion were cosplayers, do you?

Robin and Steve shared a glance.

“Maybe,” Eddie said, “but I don’t think I’m willing to take that bet, how about you?”

Chrissy shook her head and whirled around to start walking forward. Maybe it was only cosplayers taking photos, but maybe it wasn’t and like Eddie said not a bet she was willing to make.

Everyone liked their costumes, especially Steve’s.

Eddie was more than a little pleased that he was getting attention as himself and not as Abbadon.

Steve’s highlight was seeing four friends dress up as The Fallen.

“Guys!” he said excitedly, pointing at the four people walking toward them. “The Fallen! I didn’t know people cosplayed as them.”

The guy playing Astraeus stopped. “Are you a fan of The Fallen, too?”

Robin and Chrissy grinned behind his back as he blushed.

“Yeah, you can say that,” Steve said shyly. “I’m really digging the Abbadon costume, though.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Can I give you a tip about the crop top, though?”

They all looked around at each other. Faux Abbadon shrugged. “I guess. Thanks for asking first, though.”

Steve smiled broadly. “Yay!” He turned to Chrissy. “Do have safety pins in your purse?”

She blinked at him in confusion. “Why would I have safety pins in my purse?”

“You have safety pins in your purse, right?” he said turning to Robin.

She already had two of them out and held them up. “Of course I do, I’m not a savage!”

“See?” Steve said waving at Robin. “I just assumed that all lesbians kept safety pins in their purse.” He turned back the Faux Abbadon. “Ignore them. I usually do.”

The cosplayers chuckled as the girls squawked in indignation.

He walked up to the Faux Abbadon. “Can I touch your jacket?” The cosplayer nodded. Steve opened it on the one side. “I think the jacket is my favorite part by the way, the construction is really spot on.”

“Thank you,” Faux Abbadon said, “it took me almost a year to make it.”

“All right,” he said, taking the safety pin, “the trick is to pin the sides of the crop top the inside of the jacket.” He pinned both sides. “And of course remembering it’s pinned so you don’t rip the crop top.” He straightened the jacket so it fell naturally.

The dude looked down in shock. “That’s how you get the look! Holy shit. I couldn’t figure out how it seemed slope on the sides, but I could tell it wasn’t cut that way.”

“There you go!” Steve said brightly. He turned to the Faux Astraeus who had stopped in the first place. “To brag a little, I was an EMT on their last tour, I could tell you the kind of paint and shade he uses.”

They guy brought his hands to his mouth as he gasped. “There’s no way!”

Steve told him about it. He even talked to the other two about their costumes and gave them suggestions about making it better.

The four Faux Fallen walked away happily chatting about what outfits they were going to try making next time.

“That was sweet of you,” Robin said, “but aren’t you worried that with their insider information that’ll use it to pretend to be the band?”

Steve tilted his head to the side and then looked back at the direction the cosplayers went. “Those guys?” he asked with a chuckle. “No. They’re just good fans. We have trackers in our phones and if someone posts that they’re us, Vickie will shut it down so fast they’ll heads will spin.”

Chrissy and Robin exchanged concerned glances, as managers, they knew that it wasn’t that simple. But they didn’t want to take away his joy, so they wisely kept their mouths shut.

They looked around and realized that they were down one Eddie Munson.

“Shit,” Chrissy muttered. “I should’ve been keeping a better eye on him.”

Steve pulled out his phone to call him when Robin spotted him at a nearby artist’s booth, happily chatting with the artist and as they got closer they could see why. It was covered in Corroded Coffin fan art. Like really good fan art. Like hire her to do the next album cover, good.

As they got close they could hear what they were talking about.

“I’ll take two of the 11x18 of the whole band, please,” he said with a grin.

As she handed them to him in clear plastic liners, she said, “I swear I’ve heard your voice before, have we met?”

Eddie shook his head and pulled out one of the pictures. “Have you got a Sharpie?”

She rummaged around and found one to hand to him. He signed it right next to her signature and then handed it back to her with an even bigger grin. He lowered his sunglasses and whispered, “I just have one request, post the pic and the selfie after you get back to the hotel.”

“What selfie?” she asked before her brain caught up with who this was.

He grabbed her phone and turned on the camera. He switched to selfie mode and took off his cap to smile broadly for the camera. He snapped a couple of good shots and then handed it back to her.

She looked at the phone for a moment and then signed picture. She glanced up to see he was back incognito. And then it clicked. She started flapping her hands excitedly and squealing on a register that would probably make dogs run for under the sofa.

“None of my friends are going to believe me,” she leaned forward and whispered. “Even with photographic proof.”

Eddie cackled. “I’ll be sure to like it, so be sure and tag me, okay?”

She nodded holding the picture to her chest. She immediately put in a sleeve and then put her purse on top of it. “I think I would rather have my purse stolen than that picture if I’m honest.”

Eddie just winked at her and came lopping back over to his friends. “We need to hurry because any second now she’s going to realize that I paid her for a signed picture and not the other way round.”

They started walking away quickly and just before the blended into the crowd they heard the artist squawk loudly.

“Move faster,” Eddie quoted, “must move faster.”

Laughingly, they made their escape. They continued their day, Eddie making out of the con before he was papped by someone on the street as they got into their Uber. So by the time word got out, Eddie was long gone. Chrissy was very happy to report to the con heads that catastrophe averted.

Then that night as Eddie and Steve were curled up together on their hotel room bed, Eddie liked the artist’s tweet and Instagram posts and confirmed he was there. She admonished him for paying to sign her artwork, but only in good fun. Steve posted his own con experience. #lookwhoimet #thefallen #notreally #justsomereallyawesomecosplayers. Within moments all his bandmates liked and retweeted the post.

Robin in all her chaotic glory retweeted it from The Fallen’s official account. Steve almost felt sorry for them. But not quite.

~

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

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10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[atmilliways]

(Directly inspired by Eddie and Jeff’s friendship dynamic in this, which is much lighter and sweeter than what’s about to follow.)

What if a fic where all the Upside Down shit happens and Eddie lives, and Steve actually seems to be interested in him which is insane… but Chrissy died. Eddie and Jeff bonded over their nerd-on-jock crushes for all of high school, he can’t just get his guy when Jeff’s crush is dead.

So, with much angst and pining, Eddie withdraws. He stops flirting with Steve or responding to him much at all, just one-word answers to questions until Steve gives up on asking. (Which takes a while, the hot stubborn bastard.) And then it hurts too much to hang out with the entire group, because Steve is always there on the outskirts, watching him like a kicked puppy. He still sees Nancy regularly (because she’s even more stubborn than Steve) and by extension Jonathan and Argyle, but Robin drifts off, siding with Steve.

The kids are divided: Mike sticks by Eddie, Lucas and Erica stick by Steve, Will and El try to remain neutral because they never really knew Eddie to begin with but obviously lean more team Steve, and Max is just pissed at both of them for being idiots. Dustin tries to be there for both of them, but it’s such an obvious strain that Eddie starts pulling back from him too, telling himself he’s giving the kid a break. (Part of it, too, is that Dustin can’t help talking about his favorite people and doesn’t always catch himself in time to avoid giving Eddie anecdotal updates about Steve. He tells himself that by absenting himself, he’s sparing Steve from the same thing.)

Eddie is miserable, but he can’t admit why any more than he can break the NDAs and risk the government taking it all back—his pardon, his diploma, the brick and mortar house, the money that means Wayne doesn’t have to work himself to the bone anymore or worry about Eddie having to deal to help make ends meet.

And Jeff isn’t stupid. He notices, and he can guess why, and a few vague references to Harrington that make Eddie’s face do this awful, awful thing only confirms it.

It takes a long time, but Jeff manages to convince Eddie that he has his blessing. And then it’s another month of wallowing and calling Nancy at inappropriate hours to freak out about how much he’s ruined everything—but she seems to think he still has a chance with Steve.

So eventually, Eddie walks up to Steve’s front door in his best jeans, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers and trying not to sweat through his shirt even though it’s spring again and still nippy out, hoping against hope that his high school crush will let him inside.

[upsidedownmvnson]

So nervous in sending in a request…but could you write an angsty/hurtcomfort where the reader never shows Eddie her body and avoids sex? And he shows her how much he loves her body? (Me cuz I absolutely hate my body lol)

my sweet <3 thank you for your courage <3 <3 remember that your body is your home, and your wonderful vessel and its the reason the people around you get to bask in your presence <3 Eddie would agree.

Wrote the story based on what helps me, I hope it helps you too <3

"Are we okay, babe?"

The question made your stomach hurt. Eddie was nothing but sweet all the time, he had always been willing to wait for you, for anything. But lately, it's just been harder. When he touches you, it's a painful reminder that once he saw you naked, he may not... what if he didn't like it?

You'd been dating for months, and he never, ever pushed anything. But you could tell he was cagey, wanting more from you. And even though he never let it show, you could tell he was disappointed. What teenage boy wouldn't be?

You didn't think he'd be hard on you or anything, but, what if he saw what you were offering and he didn't like it.

"Baby?"

Snapped out of anxious thoughts by Eddie's calming touch, you were reminded that he was here, he loved you.

"Of course we are," you whispered, agony peeking through your eyes, caught by Eddie's attentive nature.

"Sometimes, I feel like when I touch you, you recoil." Eddie sounded kind, and you knew he was just communicating his feelings. "I'd like to talk about it."

You didn't want to talk about it. But you couldn't avoid it forever. You picked at your nails, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

"Honey," he said, voice softer than feathers as he spoke, trying to coax you out of your own head. "What's going on? How can I help you?"

"Mm," you mumbled, "I don't know."

"Well, if you can tell me what you're feeling, maybe I can help figure it out, yeah? I'm always here for you, and I wouldn't judge you for anything."

He could tell you were skeptical, something in his eyes always told you the truth. As you met his puppy dog eyes, your truth was given away to him. You were hurting, and you wouldn't tell him why.

"I just think..." you started, but stopped, picking at your nails again. "Like, what if you go to the next step, and you don't... like me?"

"What?" Eddie looked genuinely surprised, "How could I not like you, baby? I love you."

"I know that," you replied, "but what if you see... and you want something different."

"Baby, I don't know what you mean."

"I don't look like Chrissy," you whispered, "or any of the cheerleaders."

Eddie smiled sadly, finally realizing what you were saying. He was disappointed in himself that he'd never seen it before. From refusing to swim at Steve's on the hottest days of the year, to the big sweaters mid july. You were hiding. You wanted to hide from him. And he should've noticed, he should've been proving you wrong.

"Baby," he cooed, running his thumb over your cheek. "I don't want you to look like them, and I hope you don't want that either. I like you and how you look. Be nice to your body, baby, it's the only one we got."

"But-"

"No buts. I'm not accepting buts, unless it's..." he winked, and you giggled. "Seriously, my love, I can already tell you with confidence, that I love every fucking inch on this beautiful body." He ran his fingers down your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and he toyed with the hem of your sweater. "Can I show you?" he asked, and sensing your hesitation he added, "say stop and I'll stop."

You nodded, totally hypnotized by the ticklishness of how softly he was touching you.

He smiled at you, all loving and tender and kind, and you could've melted right there. One hand sliding to your hip, the other cupping the side of your neck, he brought his lips to the side of your throat, planting gentle kisses there.

The hand on your hip slowly slid the fabric up, detaching himself from kissing you only to pull the sweater over your head. Instinctively, you moved to cover your chest, but Eddie stopped you, using a soft grip to interlock your fingers, and move them to his hands, kissing each knuckle.

"I love holding your hands, they're so soft," he whispered, "I like when your nail polishing is chipping, and every time you redo it you make sure to show me."

"I like your arms," he said, trailing small kisses up your forearm, stopping at the elbow to switch to the other side, giving the soft skin there the same treatment. "I like when you wrap them around me, and snuggle into my chest. I like how they feel when you let me cuddle with you."

Eddie used his hold on your hand to guide you to the couch, asking you sit by gently guiding you by pushing your shoulder. His hands reached for the hem of your shirt, and he stopped, checking your face for any uncertainty before he removed it, leaving you in a bra.

You sucked in air, nearly choking on it. Eddie moved you again, having you lay down on the couch. You kept your eyes on him, unable to focus on anything else but his praises.

"I'm gunna keep your pants on, okay? I don't want to... not like this, not while you're unhappy."

He wedged himself in between your thighs, hovering above you with a goofy grin. "Do you like this?"

"Yes," you whispered, sucked into the beauty of his eyes. You wanted to say more, scream about how much you loved him. But you were frozen, too vulnerable to speak.

"I love your shoulders," he said, leaning down to place a trail of kisses down each side, "and your chest," and his kisses traced kisses between your breasts. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, equally as hypnotized as you. "And your tummy," he said, as if he'd seen it a thousand times but this was the first. "It's hot, you're hot, I mean, it's so soft, and I can't-" he grinned, "I can't pull my eyes away baby, I really don't know how you thought I wouldn't like this."

He kissed, and nibbled, and sucked himself across your stomach, leaving a trail of light hickies across the skin.

"You... you like it?" you asked, blush creeping onto your cheeks. He smiled softly up at you, removing his lips from just above your navel.

"I love it," he replied, leaning up so he could use his hands to run his open palms down the sides of your body, you shivered at the sensation. "Every inch, I meant that."

Your heart was racing, with anxiety and with excitement. You loved how it felt, but you couldn't push down the feelings. But, he was helping.

"It's okay," he said, smile as gentle as ever. He pulled you up by your elbow, conjuring a band tee from nowhere and helping you put it on. "Baby steps," he said, helping your untuck your hair from the collar. "We'll work on it together baby," he said, cuddling up with you, spooning you from behind, and placing kisses against the shoulder that peaked out from the opening of his shirt. "You're worth it, you're worth every minute."

"I love you," you whispered, falling into comfort with him there. He sighed contentedly, nuzzling his nose into your hair, smelling the florals of your shampoo.

"And I love you," he said, voice tickling the back of your neck. "But can we make a promise?"

"What kind?"

"Promise me you'll talk to me, when things get sad or scary in your head. I'm your guy, I'm here to help."

"I promise," you said, interlocking your fingers, "you're my guy," you repeated softly.

[afewproblems]

For the writing prompts - steddie, 3. “I’m not jealous” or 31. “You weren’t supposed to laugh!”? Pls & Ty

-steddierthings

Thank you so much @steddierthings for your lovely prompt! I chose number 3, "I'm not Jealous" (I was trying to get both prompts but just couldn't come up with a solid enough idea for the two of them)

This is partly inspired by this post that I read recently but I really like this idea and I do hope that you enjoy!

This was the last straw, Gareth thinks to himself, his face in his hands, fingers dangerously close to plunging themselves into his eyes. 

“I can’t take it anymore man,” Gareth groans as Jeff takes a seat at their favorite table. It’s tucked away into the far corner of the Hideaway, the thick shiny veneer has been dulled over the years and the honey wood beneath is covered in thick layers of graffiti and carved initials. Jeff is particularly proud of the Metallica logo he painstakingly free-drew out on one of the corners while the bartender wasn’t looking. 

Jeff snorts as his gaze travels to Eddie at the bar before falling back to Gareth, who has dropped his hands in favour of glaring at the back of their friend. 

"If I have to hear him fuckin' harp about Harringtons perfect lips one more time I swear I'm going to lose it," he mutters before taking one last pull on the nearly empty bottle in front of him. Gareth winces at the taste of warm beer as he swallows the dregs and puts the bottle down a tad harsher than he means to. 

Jeff rolls his eyes and smirks, "I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon dude, he's too much of a chicken-shit to actually do anything about it," he shrugs and takes a swig of his own beer, "besides, you remember him after the senior swim meet?" 

"Oh my Goood," Gareth groans and drops his head to the sticky table surface, "he didn't shut up about that swim suit, or his moles, for a fucking month". 

Now admittedly, Gareth could appreciate that Steve Harrington was hot, he had eyes in his head after all. 

But he just couldn't understand this sudden resurgence of Eddie's very vocal pining from afar. 

After the whole business with poor Chrissy, the man-hunt that left Gareth and Jeff incredibly spooked, and the sudden earthquakes that swallowed much of their small town, Eddie had come back to their band with a gaggle mismatched party members that trailed after him like lost puppies -including Steve Harrington. 

Now, Robin Buckley and Nancy Wheeler made sense. Robin was one of their own -a band geek, sheep adjacent in her own right and Nancy was Mike's sister, whip-smart and twice as scary. 

But Steve, former jock and King of the hallways of Hawkins high? 

It made no sense. 

But, he had been there for Eddie through it all apparently. Steve had sat at his bedside in the hospital, trading off with Wayne and Dustin to let them go home for a rest while they waited for Eddie to wake up. He had brought over food to the Munson's new trailer to help while Eddie was still recovering, and even offered to host their renewed Hellfire nights at the Harrington House rather than the school. 

As much as Gareth hated to admit it, Steve Harrington actually seemed to have turned into a decent dude. 

Which brings him back to the issue at hand. 

"I just don't get why he won't shut up about him man," Gareth says with a sigh, he looks over at Jeff who is busy rolling his eyes and looking for an empty spot on their table to tag with his pen.

"I mean, you would if you've ever been hopelessly in love with someone before," Jeff says with a shrug before elbowing Gareth sharply as Eddie makes his way back to the table with three beers.

Oh…well shit.

"Maybe he just needs a little push," Gareth hums under his breath to Jeff as Eddie plunks the bottles down and slides them across the table toward them.

"What are we talking about?" Eddie asks as he takes a seat on one of the mismatched chairs on the far side of the table, he looks between Jeff and Gareth expectantly with a crooked grin. 

Gareth takes the new bottle in front of him and tears at the slightly damp paper label with his nail, as a new thought blooms, he turns to meet Jeff's eyes with a grin and lets the thought travel through their gaze.

I have a plan.

No.

Dude, trust me!

Jeff shakes his head and hides a smile behind his beer as he takes another swig.

"We were just talking about the next Hellfire meeting, maybe we can sweet talk Harrington into hosting again for us," Gareth says, trying to keep his voice level, he leans forward on his elbows and ignores the sigh that escapes Jeff beside him. 

Eddie brightens slightly and smiles for a moment before it disappears as his eyes narrow suspiciously, "probably," he says after a beat, "why?" 

"No reason," Gareth hums again as innocently as he can manage, "Steve's great, it'll be cool to catch up on how the Hoosiers are doing, that's all". 

Eddie freezes across the table and Jeff kicks Gareth's leg, hard, he fights off a wince at the impact and kicks back. 

"I uh," Eddie stutters out as he slowly seems to gain his movement back, "I didn't know you liked Basketball". 

Gareth waves his left hand and drops his gaze back to the bottle in his right, trap set. 

"I don't follow it that closely, that's why it's nice to talk to Steve about it," he lies.

Gareth has no interest in Basketball and has not in fact spoken to Steve much, outside of thanking him for hosting their last session. He can feel Jeff's gaze boring into the side of his face, it's one lie, one little white lie and it's for a good purpose, right? For love!

He tries not to let Eddie's somber face eat away at him for the rest of the night.

It's at the next Hellfire night that Gareth decides to kick things up a notch despite Jeff's warnings. 

"Just don't do anything really stupid man," Jeff tells him over the phone before the game. It wasn't like it was malicious, Eddie just needed a little push in the right direction. 

Maybe a big push.

Gareth takes a deep breath as he walks into the kitchen of the Harrington house, he'd never been here himself during the wild party phase King Steve had been infamous for and he can see why it was the central hub for the popular crowd. 

The kitchen itself is massive and the in-ground pool outside the window seems like it would be fun in the summer without the chill of April winds and the tarp covering it. 

Steve is in the kitchen talking with Eddie, he's wearing a slightly oversized forest green sweater and tight blue-jeans which --even Gareth catches himself staring a little too long at. Focus.

He's bent over the oven and putting something on a cookie sheet onto the middle rack before standing back up and closing the door. Steve takes off the floral oven mitts and sweeps his wild hair away from his heat-flushed face. Eddie seems to be listening but his eyes are just slightly glazed over and lingered far too long on the swell of Steve's jean-clad ass as he bent over.

"Hey man," Gareth calls out from the kitchen entrance, he ignores the way Eddie freezes again before slumping into a pout.

"Oh hey," Steve says, his voice tinged with slight surprise, "you excited for the session tonight?" 

Gareth nods and siddles up closer to the pair, he leans around to take a peek at the oven behind them and sniffs the air exaggeratedly, "oh what did you make for us this time Harrington? I swear, if you cooked for me like that every day I'd die a happy man". 

A pretty pink blush blooms over Steve's cheeks and ears as he fumbles with one of the oven mitts, and Okay, if Eddie doesn't make a move soon maybe….

No. Focus up man.

Steve's large hazel eyes flick from Gareth to Eddie so fast he almost misses it. 

"Uh, I mean, it's just some pizza rolls, I didn't actually have time today," Steve mumbles with a shrug, he doesn't seem to notice the furious glare that Eddie shoots Gareth's way, too busy turning around to set the timer on the little plastic egg on the counter. 

"Next time, I'm sure," Gareth says with a smile, knocking his shoulder into Steves and leaning into his space, a startled high pitched laugh bubbles out of Steve who shrugs again. 

Eddie reaches out and slings an arm around Steve's shoulders, tugging him slightly away from Gareth and into Eddie's space. He watches, fascinated as Steve relaxes slightly into Eddie's hold. 

"Stevie here does such a good job taking care of us," Eddie says sweetly into Steve's ear, he may as well have pissed in a circle around the kitchen and told Gareth to back off and eat glass, it doesn't go unnoticed the way Steve seems to bask in the attention -to Gareth anyway.

Ah well, in for a penny.

"How is it that someone hasn't snatched you up yet Harrington? He cooks, he cleans, he hosts game nights? Like a regular Carol Brady or something," Gareth asks, his voice almost wavers as Eddie's hackles rise. Eddie's normally soft brown eyes have hardened and he's looking at Gareth as though trying to figure out if he could actually get away with kicking him in the shin, or somewhere slightly higher.

But then all at once Eddie sags, he abruptly drops his arm from Steve's shoulder and stomps out of the kitchen leaving Steve and Gareth alone as the back door slams shut. 

Well shit.

Steve's eyebrows crinkle together worriedly as he bites his bottom lip, his eyes trained on the back door, "that was mean," he says softly before finally shifting his gaze to meet Gareth's surprised face, "I know what you were trying to do, but I don't think he was really ready to talk about it yet man," Steve continues with a shake of his head before seemingly steeling himself.

Steve breathes out a long sigh and hands Gareth the oven mitt in his hand without looking at him, "that timer is going to go off in about eight more minutes, just flip them when it goes off and then put them back for another ten".

And with that Steve steps around him to follow Eddie out the door. 

"I told you not to do anything stupid man," Jeff's voice floats into the kitchen from the hall, Gareth resists the urge to knock his head into the wall beside him.

"I know, I know," he mumbles as Jeff takes the spot that Eddie and Steve had vacated, "I should probably go apologize, can you watch these?" Gareth gestures towards the oven as he hands over the mitts.

Jeff's nods and rolls his eyes again as he leans back against the counter, "I better hear groveling dude," he calls out as Gareth makes his way towards the back door, "don't think Eddie wouldn't kill your character just to spite you!"

Gareth walks a little faster at the thought.

Without a porch light the yard is dark but for the pale moonlight that stretches over the lawn and patio. He makes his way down the stairs but pauses as soft voices reach his ears. 

"I'm not, I'm not jealous man," Eddie scoffs, his voice comes out in a sharp growl.

"No, Eds, that's not what I'm saying--" 

"Why would I be jealous, I don't own you, you can date or screw whoever you want Harrington," Eddie says again, his voice now bitter and soft.

There's silence for a moment before Steve speaks slowly, "whoever I want huh?" 

"Be my guest," Eddie scoffs again.

Gareth tip toes over, closer to the corner of the house and crouches down beside the bushes before peeking around the corner, just in time to see Steve step forward and slowly cup Eddie's face before leaning in to kiss him. 

Gareth resists the urge to cheer in relief, but it's a near thing. 

Eddie is frozen for a moment before he seems to come back to himself, his hands rise up to thread into Steve's hair and around the small of his back as Eddie walks them backwards into the side of the house, he presses Steve against it drawing out a surprised gasp which Eddie swallows with a please hum.

Gareth takes this as his queue to back away slowly and tip toe back up the stairs, no need to add voyeurism to his list of crimes for the day. 

When Steve and Eddie do finally return to the kitchen, Steve's hair is in complete disarray and his lips are nearly as red as his flushed cheeks. Eddie grins widely, radiating happiness, and saunters in with his arm loosely draped around Steve's waist. 

Eddie spots Gareth hovering awkwardly near the oven, Jeff pays neither of them any mind as he takes out their treats from the oven and asks Steve for a hand plating everything for the kids in the living room. Steve smiles knowingly at Jeff, his eyes trail over to Eddie and Gareth once before he snags a platter from the cupboard and leads Jeff to the farthest side of the kitchen. 

"I suppose I have you to thank for that?" Eddie says quietly, the rising volume in the living room teases the arrival of the kids at any moment. 

"Yeah, look I'm sorry man--" 

Eddie waves him off and claps him on the back with a small smile, "eh, it's fine, I needed a little push, wasted a lot of time thinking I didn't deserve everything I wanted," he says softly. 

Eddie snorts suddenly and a playful grin blooms over his face as he brings up his hand to poke Gareths chest, "Besides, I'm your DM remember? I can throw an ancient red dragon at you guys next time and tell the kids it's your fault". 

Eddie cackles as he leaves Gareth in stunned silence to join Steve and Jeff on their way into the hallway. He slips his hand into Steve's back pocket as he joins them. 

Gareth groans quietly, and starts mentally writing out a new character backstory, he has a feeling his current Elf Ranger wasn't going to last that much longer. 

[rylem33]

The Dream Team

I couldn't walk away from Ada and Chrissy. So here's a follow on of them. Enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The way people looked at us now—it was intoxicating. I never imagined it could feel like this, walking into a room and having all eyes on me, on us. Ada was at my side, just as she always was since we became what we are now, but this time, it felt different. There was an electricity in the air, a tension that hummed between us, drawing everyone in like moths to a flame.

Ada was stunning, as always. Her blonde hair, which cascaded in soft waves down her back, caught the light and shimmered like gold. She wore a tight, pink dress that clung to her every curve, the plunging neckline leaving little to the imagination. The fabric hugged her body like a second skin, accentuating her hourglass figure, her hips swaying with each step as though she were gliding across the floor. And those legs—long, smooth, and utterly irresistible, ending in a pair of stilettos that added even more height to her already statuesque frame. She knew exactly what she was doing, every movement calculated to draw eyes and make men—and women—wish they were in her orbit.

But I wasn’t just some sidekick trailing in her wake. I held my own, and I could feel it. My hair, a platinum blonde that framed my face perfectly, fell in soft waves just above my shoulders. I wore a black, skintight dress with that revealed just enough to drive anyone crazy. The top dipped low, showcasing the full swell of my breasts, while the rest hugged my hips stopping just below my ass. My legs, long and toned, were on full display, ending in a pair of killer heels that added a few extra inches, making me feel powerful, unstoppable.

God, I love this.

We strolled into the club like we owned the place, and in a way, we did. Ada was laughing, tossing her hair over her shoulder, and I could see the way the guys around us practically drooled at the sight of her. It used to bother me, that she got all the attention. But now? Now it just fueled the fire. We were the queens here—no, we were goddesses. And they all knew it.

Look at them, all of them wishing they could have a piece of us. Pathetic.

“Chrissy, let’s get a drink,” Ada purred, slipping her arm through mine. Her touch sent a shiver down my spine, and not in the way it used to. She was electric, dangerous, and I couldn’t get enough. Neither could anyone else.

We made our way to the bar, and I felt the stares following us, felt the whispers trail in our wake. The bartender barely looked at anyone else as he rushed to serve us, a nervous smile plastered on his face. “What can I get you ladies?” he asked, trying to sound smooth, but the crack in his voice gave him away.

Ada leaned forward, giving him a glimpse of what he could never have. “Two of your best cocktails,” she said, her voice like honey. Some poor guy was already reaching for his wallet before she even finished speaking. He paid paid for drinks, somebody always paid for them.

God, she’s good.

I watched her, admiring the way she worked him, but more than that, I admired the way he looked at her—at us. There was power in that gaze, in the way he practically tripped over himself to please us. I could get used to this.

I was already getting used to it.

“Here you go, ladies,” the bartender said, sliding our drinks over. The man who paid didn’t even try to talk to us, just stood there, waiting, hoping for some kind of approval.

Ada flashed him a wicked smile. “Thanks, sweetie,” she cooed, and I could see him melt right in front of us. Pathetic.

We moved away from the bar, leaving him staring after us like a lost puppy. Ada was chatting about something, her voice a sultry murmur in my ear, but my mind was elsewhere, focused on the way the room seemed to part for us, how the music seemed to pulse just for us.

This is what I was meant for. Not the old life, not that pathetic existence as Chris. This.

It was hard to even remember that life now, the one where I was just another face in the crowd, where Ada was Adam and we were best friends, not… this. But why would I want to remember? I had everything I needed right here. Power, attention, desire. It was like a drug, and I was hooked.

“Chrissy,” Ada said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Let’s have some fun tonight.”

I looked at her, at the gleam in her eyes that matched the one I felt in my chest. Fun. That’s what this was all about now, wasn’t it? We could do whatever we wanted, take whatever we wanted, and no one would dare stop us.

She’s right. I was getting bored already.

A wicked smile curled my lips as I met her gaze. “What did you have in mind?”

Ada’s grin was feral, full of promises that sent a thrill of anticipation through me. “Let’s play a little game,” she purred. “See that guy over there?” She nodded toward a man standing near the dance floor, his eyes already locked on us.

I followed her gaze, taking in the way he watched us, the hunger in his stare. He was handsome, in that rugged way, but more than that, he was exactly the kind of guy who would do anything for a taste of what we had to offer.

Easy prey.

“What about him?” I asked, my voice low, conspiratorial.

Ada leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear. “Let’s see who can make him beg first.”

A thrill shot through me at her words. The old me, the one who had been Chris, would have balked at the idea. Would have felt guilty, would have worried about hurting someone. But that person was long gone. I was Chrissy now, and I was going to win.

Time to show her who’s really in control.

I gave her a smirk and nodded, the challenge accepted. “You’re on.”

As we made our way toward the man, I could already feel the excitement building, the anticipation of the game, the thrill of the hunt. This was what it was all about—power, control, desire. We were unstoppable, and everyone else? They were toys to be manipulated.

Let the games begin.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was something about the way Chrissy smiled at me—something new. I could see it in her eyes, the same hunger, the same wicked thrill that had been driving me since my own transformation. It was intoxicating, seeing her like this, fully embracing the power that came with being someone like us. But as much as I enjoyed watching her come into her own, there was another part of me that bristled at the challenge she posed. Chrissy wasn’t the same person I used to know, and neither was I.

I led the way through the crowd, my gaze fixed on the guy by the dance floor. He was already watching us, practically salivating at the sight of two stunning blondes heading his way. Easy prey, I thought, my lips curling into a smirk. This was going to be fun.

The guy was watching us approach, his gaze flicking between the two of us with blatant hunger. He had that rugged look—unkempt hair, a chiseled jawline. The kind of guy who would follow us around like a lost puppy, doing whatever we wanted just for a chance to be with us. I could already see the wheels turning in his head, the fantasies he was building.

Pitiful.

But useful. And tonight, he was going to be ours.

I reached out and brushed Chrissy’s arm lightly as we got closer, a touch that looked friendly, supportive even. But it was a reminder—I’m still in control. “He’s cute, isn’t he?” I purred, my voice dripping with sweetness. “Think you can handle him?”

She shot me a look, that playful smirk still in place, but I could see something flash in her eyes—determination, maybe. Or was it defiance? She was getting bolder, more confident. She wanted to win this as much as I did.

“Watch me,” Chrissy whispered, her voice low and sultry, before she moved ahead, closing the distance between us and the guy.

Oh no you don’t, bitch. I wasn’t about to let her take the lead that easily. I won’t let her win.

We reached him at the same time, and his eyes widened as we closed in, clearly overwhelmed by the sudden attention. 

“Hi there,” I said, my voice smooth as silk as I gave him a slow, appraising look. “You look like you could use some company.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes widening as they traveled up and down my body, but before he could answer, Chrissy chimed in, her voice dripping with honey. “You don’t look like the kind of guy who should be drinking alone. Let me buy you a drink?”

 “I—uh, yeah. I’d like that.”

Of course you would.

Chrissy was quick, too quick for my liking. The moment he stammered out his approval, she stepped forward, flashing him that sweet, innocent smile she’d perfected—only it wasn’t so innocent anymore. Without missing a beat, she slid her hand into his, lacing her fingers through his in a way that made it look like they’d known each other forever.

“Come on,” Chrissy purred, pulling him gently towards the bar. “Let’s get that drink.”

The guy didn’t even hesitate. He was practically tripping over himself to follow her, his eyes glued to the sway of her hips as she led the way. For a moment, I felt a sharp pang of annoyance twist in my chest. So, she thinks she can take the lead?

I wasn’t about to let her have all the fun. As they reached the bar, Chrissy leaned in close to talk to the bartender, all smiles and charm. Perfect. That was my opening.

I moved in smoothly, positioning myself on the guy’s other side, brushing up against him as I did. He turned his head, eyes widening slightly as I slid in next to him, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off his body.

“Hey,” I whispered, my voice low and intimate, just for him. “I hope you’re ready for a night you won’t forget.”

He swallowed hard, his gaze flicking between Chrissy and me, clearly overwhelmed. Good. That’s exactly how I wanted him—off-balance, unsure, and completely at our mercy. I let my hand trail down his arm, feeling the muscles tense under my touch. He was already putty in our hands, and I wasn’t about to let Chrissy mold him first.

“So,” I continued, leaning in even closer, “What’s your name, handsome?”

He blinked, his brain clearly struggling to keep up. “Uh, Toby,” he managed, his voice a little shaky.

“Toby,” I repeated, letting his name roll off my tongue. I gave him a slow, appraising look, letting my gaze linger on his lips before meeting his eyes again. “I’m Ada. And I think we’re going to have a lot of fun tonight.”

I could see the effect I was having on him, the way his breath hitched slightly as I spoke. Yes, that’s right. Keep looking at me. Keep wanting me. I felt the familiar thrill of control wash over me, the knowledge that I could make him do whatever I wanted, that he was already halfway there.

But then Chrissy turned back to us, drinks in hand, and the moment shattered. She offered Toby his drink, her fingers brushing against his as she handed it to him. The spark in her eyes told me she wasn’t about to let me have him without a fight.

“To new friends,” Chrissy said, raising her glass in a toast, her voice all sweetness and light. But there was a challenge in her smile, a challenge I wasn’t about to back down from.

Toby clinked his glass against Chrissy’s, then mine, his eyes flicking between us as if he couldn’t quite believe his luck. I leaned in, making sure my shoulder pressed against his, letting him feel the soft curve of my breast against his arm as I took a sip of my drink. He tensed slightly, a flush creeping up his neck, and I knew I had him.

I set my glass down and let my fingers trace lightly along his forearm, my touch feather-light, teasing. “You know, Toby,” I murmured, my voice low, intimate, “Chrissy and I are very close. We like to share… everything.”

His eyes widened at that, his breath catching in his throat as he processed the implications. I could see the gears turning in his head, the fantasies playing out behind his eyes. Good. Let him dream. Let him want it.

But Chrissy wasn’t about to let me steal the show. She moved closer, her hand resting on his thigh, just above his knee, her touch soft but suggestive. “Is that something you’d be interested in, Toby?” she asked, her voice sultry, sweet. Her hand crept further towards his crotch. “Because we’re very good at making sure everyone has a good time.”

I saw his eyes darken with desire, his breath quickening, and I knew I had to act fast before she could push him over the edge. I slid my hand up his arm, my fingers lightly tracing the line of his jaw, forcing him to look at me.

“Tell us what you want, Toby. We can make it happen.” I whispered, letting the words linger in the air between us, thick with meaning. “All you have to do is ask nicely.  Say the magic word.”

His gaze flicked to my lips, his pupils dilating as he took in the offer, and I knew I was close, so close to getting him to beg for it. All I needed was one more push, one more…

But then Chrissy leaned in, her breath warm against his ear, and whispered something I couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made him shudder, his grip tightening on his glass as his eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment.

Damn it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I could feel Ada’s frustration simmering next to me, her irritation practically radiating off her in waves. She had been so close, too close, to making him beg. But she wasn’t the only one who knew how to play this game. As much as Ada liked to think she was in control, I wasn’t about to let her have the upper hand.

I leaned in close to Toby, letting my breath tickle his ear, and whispered, “Imagine what it would feel like, both of us on our knees, doing anything you want. You just have to say the word, Toby. Just one little word.”

His whole body shuddered at the image, his grip tightening on his glass as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded. I saw his eyes flutter shut for a brief second, the temptation overwhelming him. Gotcha.

Ada must have sensed the shift, the way he responded to my words, because I could feel her stiffen beside me. She was losing her grip on him, and we both knew it. But instead of backing down, she doubled down, trying to pull him back under her spell.

“Tell us what you want, Toby,” she whispered, her voice a soft command. “We can make it happen. All you have to do is ask nicely. Say the magic word.”

I could see the conflict in his eyes, the way his gaze flicked between us, torn between the two of us. He was close, so close to giving in, but he just needed that final push. I wasn’t going to let Ada take this one. I needed to seal the deal.

I pressed myself even closer to him, letting my hand slide up his thigh, my fingers grazing the inside of his leg, just enough to make him tense up. “Come on, Toby,” I murmured, my voice dripping with honey. “Don’t you want to be a good boy for us? Just say it. Please.”

He swallowed hard, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The word was right there, on the tip of his tongue, and I could see it, feel it, hanging in the air between us. His pupils were blown wide, the tension in his body wound so tight I knew he was about to snap.

His gaze locked onto mine, desperate and pleading, and that’s when he finally broke. “Please,” he whispered, so soft it was almost a breath, but I heard it. He was saying it to me. I heard it, and so did Ada.

Ada’s eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching slightly as she realized what had just happened. I had won. Toby had begged, and he’d done it for me. The triumph surged through me, a heady mix of power and satisfaction that made my heart race. You thought you had this, Ada, but not tonight.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to see the mixture of relief and desire swirling in Toby’s eyes, and I gave him a slow, sultry smile. “Good boy,” I purred, rewarding him with a light kiss on his jaw, my lips barely brushing his skin.

He trembled at the touch, and I could practically feel his anticipation, his hope that things were about to get even better. But instead of giving him what he wanted, I stepped back, letting his hand slip from mine as I turned to leave. Ada was right there beside me, her expression hardening into something more sinister as she realized what I was doing.

We weren’t going to just leave him standing there in confused silence. No, that was too easy. He needed to know exactly what his place was.

As we started to walk away, I threw a look over my shoulder, letting my eyes drag up and down his body, lingering on the obvious bulge in his pants. “You really thought you had a chance, didn’t you?” I said, my voice dripping with mockery. “That’s adorable.”

Ada let out a cruel laugh, joining in without missing a beat. “Please, Toby. You’re way beneath us. Did you really think two girls like us would go for someone like you?” She emphasized each word, her tone cutting like a knife.

His face flushed, and I could see the humiliation beginning to set in, the realization that he had been nothing more than a toy for us to play with. But I wasn’t done. Not yet.

I stopped walking, turning to face him fully, letting him see the disdain in my eyes. “You begged so easily,” I said, shaking my head as if I were disappointed. “We didn’t even have to try. Pathetic.”

Ada stepped forward, close enough that she could have whispered in his ear, but instead, she spoke loud enough for everyone around us to hear. “You’re just like all the others. Desperate, pathetic, and completely forgettable.”

I watched as his face twisted in shame, his confidence shattered. He looked around, realizing that a few people nearby had noticed what was happening, had heard the things we said. The embarrassment was written all over him, and it made the victory that much sweeter.

“Don’t stand there with your mouth open, Toby,” I added, my voice cold and mocking. “We were never going to sleep with you. You’re not even worth our time.”

With that, I turned on my heel, Ada right beside me, and we walked away, leaving him standing there with his mouth open, his hard-on obvious and useless, and a look of pure humiliation on his face.

As we strode through the crowd, I couldn’t help but smirk, the thrill of the game still buzzing through me. The challenge had been to make him beg, and we had done exactly that. But leaving him there, crushed and humiliated, knowing he would never come close to having us—that was the real victory.

“Boys like him,” Ada murmured as we moved further away, “they always think they’re something special. But they never are.”

I nodded, the rush of power still pulsing through me. “He’ll be thinking about us for weeks, maybe longer. But he’ll never forget tonight.”

We left Toby behind, a pitiful, broken shell of what he thought he was, and I knew that whatever game we played next, it would be even better. Because we were in control, we always would be, and no one would ever come close to taking that from us.

[ddejavvu]

Puppy!chrissy who literally gives you kisses all the time! She came in after you already had puppy!eddie, and she loves how expressive everyone is in this house! And she likes that she’s allowed to be a little hyper with her affections, even if she’s not as much as Eddie, crawling further and further up your body to lick you more, smelling all your you and Eddie and her smells, and tugging on your ear with her teeth like she always does whenever she’s really happy, as her tail swings wildly against you.

You’d wake up to wet tongues happily lapping up at your cheeks every morning, if those two giggling about planning it together didn’t always wake you first <3. Not that you tell them that <33. You only open your eyes as both their faces are beaming up from above you, heads almost conking as they giggle too much to even get out a steady “Good morning!” Both their noses are pressed into your neck each night. And hearing both their tails thump from outside your door when you’re coming home is just glee and love every single day

you guys are making me sob I love this au so much please never stop talking to me about it

She’s definitely experiencing a new environment!! Maybe if you’d had her first and then got Eddie things would be different, but when she comes in you’re already used to being smothered 24/7 by puppy!eddie so anything she does absolutely pales in comparison to how crazy he is

Ohhh I’m thinking about kissing her and she’s just so happy, she starts out straddling your hips and leaning forwards but she doesn’t have leverage there so she scoots up a bit, now at your stomach. Oh but then she feels your shirt ride up under her butt so she scoots up more to try and get it out from under her but oh-! It just made it worse. Now eddie gets to lay on your bare belly and nose under Chrissy’s skirt to press soft kisses to her ass that have her squealing into the kiss 🥹 her tail’s going so hard that she whacks Eddie in the face a few times!! He takes it like a champ though, just swats at it and chuckles. Now she’s practically straddling your chest, hands braced on your cheeks pulling you further into the kiss, impossibly close to you as her tongue licks and laps at your own, flicking around your mouth with vigor you’ve only experienced before on eddie. She gets a bit messy, when you break apart and reconnect there’s drool that seeps down her lips but if it drips down your chin eddie will sneak in and clean it up for you! But he expects a thank you kiss from both of his girls for being so nice, so pucker up <3

Omg yes she is an ear biter!! It’s not painful, she’d never hurt you, she just nips and gnaws on your ear and gives it a soft little tug when she’s incredibly happy :’)

Ohhh sweet babies they wake you up like that every morning!! You expect it by now but don’t tell them bc they think they’re surprising you every single time!! You wake up to messy kisses smeared all over your face, Eddie’s tongue flicking against the curve of your jaw while Chrissy’s focuses on laving against your bottom lip over and over again. You owe them tons of kisses back, and you’ll probably spend the morning doing just that

As much fun as they have while you’re at work and they’re playing together, their favorite part of the day is when you come home!! They get to jump on you and cover you in kisses and chat about their day and ask about yours and get all of the ear scratches they’ve missed while you were away!!

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 9

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8

Jeff calls her. It’s the first time they’ve spoken on the phone, and something flutters in her chest.

“How did you get this number?” she asks, finger twirling the coiled wire of the phone as she smiles down at her socked feet.

“There’s only one Cunningham in the phone book, Chrissy,” he replies, all dry wit—she can almost see the smirk on his face. “It’s not exactly rocket science.”

She laughs, shuffling around her kitchen, suddenly desperate to move, but she’s leashed to the wall by her phone’s cord, so it’s only about four steps each way until she’s bungee-corded back to the starting point.

“Smartass.”

Jeff laughs this time, quiet the way he always is, but her chest feels like a supernova’s exploding in it. “But that’s not why I called.”

Chrissy’s smile fixes to her face before drooping down into her shoes with her gut. “What’s wrong?” she asks, now standing statuesque in her kitchen, cold tiles leaching all the warmth from her feet even through her thick socks.

“Nothing,” Jeff sighs, and there’s a crackling sound, like he’s rubbing his face in exhaustion. “Just—Steve drove me home.”

“Is he okay?” she asks, clenching the phone hard enough in her hand that the cheap plastic creaks.

“I think so?” Jeff replies, sounding unsure. “He just seems sad, man.”

Steve and Jeff don’t spend a lot of time together, but he’s been around enough that she trusts his judgment.

Steve is sad.

Chrissy wants to sink down to the cold tile beneath her and never get up. Instead, she shuffles back over to the phone and swings herself up onto the countertop—what her mother doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Her heels clack against the cupboards noisily, broadcasting her restlessness even as the worry sinks straight through her.

“What about?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

“He thinks Eddie hates him.”

Chrissy sucks in a breath and lets it shudder out before biting her lip against the next logical question. “Does he?”

“He thinks he does,” Jeff replies promptly. “But he definitely doesn’t.”

Chrissy hums, too lost in her own head to think of a reply. It doesn’t matter what Eddie feels if the effect is the same: a sad Steve Harrington.

“I don’t think you guys should do this anymore,” Jeff says, snapping her out of her spiral.

“I know,” she groans, shoulders slumping. “But Steve’s hellbent on keeping it up.”

He sighs again, muttering, “boys,” with such a defeated air that she can’t help but laugh again.

“You just keep an eye on yours, and I’ll do the same for mine,” she says, smile audible in her voice. “Deal?”

“I feel like yours is a bit easier to wrangle than mine,” Jeff scoffs, a twinge of bitterness leaking into his tone.

And he’s right; Eddie still hasn’t even told Jeff about the letters he’s been getting, much less asked his opinion on them. Steve, at least, keeps her appraised of his next moves, shares his feelings, and asks for her help even if he won’t always take her advice.

So, when Steve’s acting weird when she sees him the next morning—all shifty-eyed and nervous—she doesn’t ask. He’ll tell her when he’s ready. Besides, the hallway’s too crowded, and she’s got a sneaking suspicion that it has something to do with her and Jeff’s conversation last night.

She’s proved right when they hit the library at lunch instead of the cafeteria, and Steve barely waits until they’re settled in their usual table, feet interlaced.

“He hates me,” Steve whispers.

“He doesn’t hate you.”

Steve pouts across at her, bottom lip stuck out like a puppy dog as he accuses, “you’ve been talking to Jeff.”

Chrissy bites her lip. “I always talk to Jeff.”

He rolls his eyes, but it seems to lift his spirits. “Did you ask him out yet?”

“Shut up.” She kicks him beneath the table until he laughs.

Without further preamble, he pulls a piece of paper from his bag and pushes it across to her. She expects the latest note from Eddie, having yet to read the last one, but it’s not—it’s a letter from Steve, clearly responding to something she’s yet to see.

“Did you pick up the letter yourself?” she asks, panic sinking through her. He could get caught, and then all their subterfuge will be for nothing. She might lose her best friend. 

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, so shyly that she can’t bear to chastise him further. “What do you think?”

She reads it again, trying to look past the panic to the words in front of her. “It’s good,” she says, and it is. “Do you want to send it like this?”

His handwriting is barely legible, even to her with her weeks of practice, and there’s a few misspellings, but she’ll do whatever he wants, forever and always. But he shakes his head, and asks, “Will you edit it?”

“Can I see the one you’re responding to?” she asks.

He pulls it out of his bag and pushes it across the table without a complaint. She picks it up and begins to read.

         Secret Admirer,

         There was a little hiccup with my guitar and plugging her in, but otherwise it went great! All four of the drunks at the Hideout clapped politely when we were done, and not even one of them booed us off stage!

         The riff is still getting on my last nerve, darling, you have no idea. I wish I could hear you play, I bet you’d inspire me so much, a stroke of genius would strike me and I’d know exactly what I’m missing.

         (I don’t know how to ride a bike. My dad was never around to teach me, and by the time I moved in with Uncle Wayne, I was too old to learn.)

         Darling, did you dream of me? Was it a naughty dream?

         Yours,

         Eddie

P.S. The Lord of the Rings is the name of the whole trilogy, so I hope you find it in The Fellowship. Can’t believe you don’t even know Tolkein. It’s okay, baby, I like you anyway. 

She smiles when she’s done, kicking him beneath the table as she asks, “Does this sound like someone who hates you?”

If anything, Steve just gets droopier. “It’s for you,” he mumbles, and she doesn’t have anything to say.

Chrissy squeezes his foot tighter between her own in a pantomime of a hug.

Even with his newfound pessimism, he carefully rereads her edited words once she’s done. He smiles down at it, clearly cheered by the act of writing to Eddie.

“It looks great, Chris,” he says genuinely, as if she’d done more than correct his spelling and rewrite his letter word for word.

“Thanks,” she replies, smiling across at him, relieved his spirits have risen. “Now, let’s drop this in his locker so he doesn’t have to wait too long to read your lovely letter.”

Steve’s ears turn red with embarrassment, but he dutifully wraps his arm around her waist and leads her out of the library.

Jason’s loitering outside of it, leaning against the wall like it’s a coincidence he’s here at all, but the way his eyes glare at the point where they’re in contact makes a liar out of him.

Steve seems to agree because he pulls her closer and asks, “problem, Carver?” in his snootiest King Steve voice.

Jason holds his hands up, smiling like this is all a coincidence, but he seems to have forgotten that Chrissy knows him, maybe better than anyone. She sees the way his arms are flexing, the way he’s baring his canines more than smiling, and it makes her feel on edge.

“No problem, man,” he replies, untold violence behind every word.

“Let’s just go,” she whispers to Steve.

She’s relieved when he nods, not sparing Jason another look as they take the most direct route to Eddie’s locker. He doesn’t respond until they’re well out of Jason’s hearing range. “That guy’s starting to really freak me out,” he says, talking quietly still, even after putting all this distance between them.

Chrissy sighs. The thing is, she still misses Jason, but the Jason she misses is at least a year dead and gone. Now, all that’s left of him is someone who wants to own her.

“Me, too.”

*** 

There’s something different about the letter he finds in his locker this time.

  Eddie —

  You were the best damn thing those drunks have ever seen, hands down. No, before you ask, I wasn’t there. But when I had that letter under my pillow, I dreamed a little dream (not naughty, I know you’re disappointed, sorry). I don’t remember the songs, but I remember the way you looked for me in the crowd and smiled. All the dream people gave you a standing ovation, me loudest of all.

  You’re never too old to learn to ride a bike. My dad didn’t teach me either, but a friend did. Maybe someday, I could be that friend for you, and when I tell you I won’t let go, you can rest easy knowing I’m not lying.

  Sincerely,

  Your Secret Admirer

  P.S. I know it’s still winter, but I’ll meet you in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The handwriting is just the same, and it’s as sweet as always, but still. There’s—something Eddie can’t quite put his finger on no matter how many times he rereads the letter. Maybe he should have paid more attention in English class instead of always working on his next campaign.

He watches Chrissy when she’s not paying attention, trying to figure out what’s changed, but Harrington always catches him and stares him down like a dog marking his territory.

It leaves him flushed, desperately trying to focus on whatever he’s supposed to be doing. By the time he looks up, Harrington’s always moved onto something else.

Maybe it’s just because they know each other now, spend time with each other, are even becoming friends? Eddie doesn’t mind, as long as the letters keep coming. He might even like this letter best of all. It feels more honest, real somehow, like he’s peeling back the layers of bullshit obfuscation to get to the truth of who she is.

He hopes it lasts.

It’s hard to write his own letter back, to meet that same level of transparency to someone who, despite now having a name and face, still feels like a nebulous being. A nebulous being whose favorite color he knows, who’s insecurities feel like they’re his own, whose words he’s stroked on the page late at night while unable to sleep.

He tries to pour that same energy back into his letter.

  Secret Admirer,

  I wish I could dream about you, too. I want to know your face well enough to hold it in my mind, even unconscious. I want to lay my head on my pillow tonight and know that you’ll be waiting for me in dreamland, ready to be the best groupie a guy could ask for.

  The truth is, no one’s loved me before. No one’s liked me, or kissed me, or held my hand during a scary movie. And, that’s scarier than any movie could ever be. Because, you’re it, baby. The one and only, and all that shit.

  I’ve got friends, and that’s enough for me! It really is! But a part of me just wants to hold someone’s hand—your hand. Maybe we can someday. Maybe we can do all the things we’ve talked about: go to a drive-in, play music together, learn to ride a bike. But even if we never do, I’m grateful for every one of these letters. Being wanted is new to me, and I’m not ready to give it up.

  Yours, always,

  Eddie

He steps into the Shakespeare section once more and slips the note into A Midsummer Night’s Dream and promptly tries his best to forget about it. It doesn’t work.

He wants a response immediately, dreads waiting the typical days it takes for a letter to appear in his locker, so no one can blame him for panicking.

“Do you want to come to a Corroded Coffin practice?” Eddie blurts after the latest Hellfire session.

Chrissy’s brow’s all furrowed up as she asks, “Corroded Coffin?”

Eddie’s surprised she doesn’t already know. He’s mentioned it at least once in one of his letters; does she not spend her nights pouring over the words like he does? Does she not have every dotted i and crossed t seared into her retinas?

His intestines wriggle around in his body, fingers itching to tear his letter into tiny little pieces before she reads his desperate, yearning words.

“My band,” Eddie replies, his response overlapping eerily with Harrington’s, “his band.”

Chrissy smirks between them but Eddie barely notices, too caught up in staring at Harrington. “How do you know that?” he demands.

Harrington’s shoulders curl, like Eddie’s the threat here as he mutters his response barely loud enough to hear over the sounds of the other Hellfire members packing up, “uh, the middle school talent show?”

Eddie’s lip quirks up as Harrington looks up from his own shoes and meets Eddie’s eyes. “You remember that?”

Harrington snorts. “Hard to forget, dude.”

Harrington’s smiling—he’s never noticed before but it’s a little off center, just enough to be endearing. Eddie smiles back helplessly, taking a step forward as he asks, “the king remembers little old me?”

He gets a laugh this time, Harrington’s eyes almost crinkling shut with his amusement. He’s got a nice laugh. Eddie’s never noticed before, hasn’t heard anything from him that wasn’t at least a little snide.

Eddie opens his mouth, desperate to elicit that noise again, when Chrissy pointedly clears her throat and reality comes rushing back in—what was that? He snaps his gaze back to her, shuffling his feet, feeling absurdly guilty. For what? Being nice to her boyfriend?

“When is it?” she asks.

It takes him a minute to remember what they were talking about. “Oh!” he exclaims, taking a step back when he realizes how close he’s gotten. “Uh, tomorrow night in Gareth’s garage.”

Chrissy’s smiling, but there’s something sly about it, Eddie knows, watching the flashing of her eyes, that Chrissy Cunningham knows what evil is and has the capacity to perform it. So much for his pet theory that she’s actually a golden retriever stuffed into a human girl’s body.

“Can Steve come?” When Eddie frowns, shifting his eyes to a red-eared Harrington standing stock-still beside her, she continues, “it’s just, Jason’s been a little intense lately?”

Carver’s name seems to bring Harrington back to life. He damn-near growls as he wraps his arm around Chrissy’s waist. “The word you’re looking for is stalkery.”

She snorts, “not a word, but yeah.”

Now that they mention it, Carver has seemed to be within arm’s reach of Chrissy for a while now, loitering on her fringes with his arms crossed like he’s staking his claim, even all these months after they broke up.

“Sure,” Eddie replies, and he means it. Harrington can come if it keeps Eddie from ending up on the wrong side of Carver’s fists. “Harrington can come.”

Harrington’s ears flush again, and he mutters an awkward, “thank you,” before leading Chrissy out of the drama room.

Once they’ve cleared out, Gareth sighs, long and loud as he says, “band practice is going to be so awkward.”

Eddie glares at him, having forgotten entirely about his audience while talking to Harrington and Chrissy. “Oh, it won’t be so bad.”

“Yeah, right,” Doug snorts, shouldering his bag and heading toward the door.

“Oh, ye of little faith!” he replies as all three of them head out the door, Jeff having inexplicably already left despite Eddie being his usual ride home on Hellfire days. “It’ll be fine!”

Before he drives the guys home, he doubles back to the library to try and steal back his note, but it’s too late: the doors are locked and by the morning, the note’s sure to be gone.

They’re right; band practice is awkward, and it’s not even Eddie’s fault. It’s not even Harrington’s fault. It’s Jeff’s.

“You look nice today,” Jeff says, looking directly at Chrissy, who blushes.

He’s right, she does look nice in a cute pink cardigan and some light-wash jeans that fit her well. It’s not Eddie’s style, but it suits her. But Jeff doesn’t have to say it while her boyfriend is standing right there.

“Thanks,” she says, smiling at Jeff.

Harrington just keeps standing there while Jeff does what can only be described as flirting, with his girlfriend. Everyone else carries on like this is normal, but Gareth’s sending him crazy-eyed looks proving that Eddie’s not the only sane one.

Doug’s too busy practicing his riffs, sure, and Jeff’s clearly gone off the deep end, but Harrington? What’s his excuse?

When he’d been dating Wheeler, he’d been all over her at all times, monopolizing her time whenever possible. And sure, Chrissy and Harrington are always together, but there’s never more than an arm around her waist or sitting close together. He’s never even seen them kiss.

And now here he is, letting Jeff flirt with his girlfriend right in front of him.

Eddie just doesn’t get it.

Corroded Coffin’s a fucking mess, Gareth keeping a beat only he can hear, Eddie missing every other note, and Jeff too busy looking at Chrissy to keep tempo. Only Doug is on his game, clearly getting more and more fed up with each new fuck-up.

Chrissy stays by Jeff’s side, whispering with him between songs while Harrington flops down on the couch and watches them play like it’s his own, personal concert.

Eddie can’t take his eyes off Steve. He wants to peel the guy like an onion, figure out what makes him tick, what makes him smile, why the hell he’s here in Gareth’s smelly garage watching his girlfriend make eyes at Jeff while she writes love letters to Eddie in her free time.

He wants to know.

He just—

Wants.

*** 

Steve’s words have been echoing around her brain for days—have you asked him out yet? It’s ridiculous, but before he’d said those words, she’d never even considered it as an option. Boys ask girls out, that’s how it works. But if Steve can like a boy, she can ask out Jeff.

That doesn’t make it any less scary though. She sits on the revelation for a few days more, watching Jeff out of the corner of her eye, flirting back after he instigates. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? It’s still him instigating.

“I’m going to ask him out,” she tells Steve, not looking at him as they walk into the school together, too afraid of what she’ll see.

“Yeah?” he asks, bumping their shoulders together. “When?”

When she glances his way, he’s grinning ear to ear. She huffs, “I don’t know, soon?” Looking away so she doesn’t have to see that sly look on his face. “It’s just so scary.”

“I know, Chris,” he says, bumping into her again and again just to annoy her. “But you’re the strongest person I know.”

She doesn’t feel strong—she feels like a breeze might swipe her feet out from under her, but Steve believes in her. Steve thinks she’s strong, and she told him she’d ask Jeff out, so she will.

So, when Jeff next slides into her passenger seat, she starts the car and drives away without saying a word.

This has become something of a habit lately—if there’s no Hellfire, she drives Jeff home. Usually they talk, or turn on music they both like and sing along. The quiet has his feet tapping and fingers picking at the seam of his jeans. He grows more restless with each minute that passes.

“Chrissy?” he asks finally, a shyness to his voice that she’s not used to hearing. From the first time they’d spoken, he’s been confident—quiet, yeah, but assured. “Are you okay?”

Unable to take the waver of his voice sitting down, Chrissy veers off the side of the road, holding her arm out to keep Jeff from smacking into the dash at the abrupt change in momentum. She puts the thing in park, takes off her seatbelt, and turns in her seat to face Jeff head-on.

His eyes are wide, clearly freaked out by her erratic behavior, but he still unlatches his own seatbelt and mimics her position, awkwardly pulling his feet beneath him when it becomes clear his legs are too long to fit.

She’s helplessly charmed; it may just be Steve and Eddie’s letters rubbing off on her, but she wants to reach out and take his hand. So she does.

His fingers jerk in hers, pulling back a little like it’s instinct before he drops his hand on the console separating them and lets her link their fingers together. Even with the heater on, the interior of her car’s cold enough that his skin scalds against hers, sending a shudder through her.

“Is this the part where you murder me?” he asks, squeezing her hand. “Because if so, let me know.”

“So you can run away?” she asks, grateful for the moment of levity.

“No, because I’m a gentleman,” he replies, winking at her, “and I can help dig the grave, save you some work.”

Chrissy laughs, once again captivated by him. He’s a nerd, how is he so gosh darn charming? Her cheeks hurt, her heart hurts, her whole body is tingling with the anticipation of what she’s about to do.

“Chrissy—“

“Will you go out with me?” she asks, slapping her hand over her mouth when she realizes she interrupted him. She closes her eyes, entirely mortified. “Shoot, sorry!”

His hand spasms in hers before he tightens his hold. “You’re…” he starts, hand shaking in hers. She opens her eyes, horrible visions of him crying dancing behind her lids, but he’s laughing, whole body moving with the effort of suppressing it. “You’re apologizing for the best moment of my life?”

She laughs, too, helpless not to. “Is that a yes, or are you just laughing at me?”

He hums, tilting his head closer to hers, chuckles finally fading away as he replies, “can it be both?”

“Always.”

Chrissy bounces a little in her seat, vibrating with pent-up excitement. Maybe sometimes the girl can get the guy instead of the other way around.

He hums again, low down in his throat, and their gazes lock. The energy in her car is so electric her skin is buzzing with it. She wants to reach across the distance between them and steal a kiss. But girls don’t do that sort of thing. Girls aren’t supposed to—

She leans across the console separating them and kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him. Jeff gasps into it, like he’s the one being electrocuted now, and suddenly his hand is out of hers, but that’s okay because it’s on her face now, drawing her closer, closer, closer, as he sucks on her bottom lip until she gasps.

She might have stayed in that position forever, craning her body uncomfortably forward like a sunflower toward the light, if she hadn’t shifted a little too far to the left into her car’s horn with a bony hip.

As it blares, they both jump apart, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, looking around for a threat that will never come.

“Oops,” she whispers, settling back into her seat, back protesting at the change of angle.

Jeff laughs, head thrown back, long throat on full display. She wants to bite it, but the moment’s long since broken, so she puts her seatbelt on and shifts back onto the road, cheeks flaming, heart warm.

“Does this mean you’re going to give me your letterman jacket?” he asks once he’s finally stopped laughing. “I’m not familiar with jocks courting rituals.”

Chrissy’s responding laugh isn’t her usual cultivated giggle—it’s a bark that makes Jeff grin at her. “Oh my goodness, can you even imagine the looks we’d get?”

“Or that Steve would.” Jeff replies. “But you’ve gotta admit, I’d look good in his jacket.”

She almost wants to do it for the drama, Eddie’s presence rubbing off on her surely, but it’s not quite worth doubling the lynch mobs that will already be after all of them.

“You realize this is only making this whole situation even messier, don’t you?” she asks, eyes on the road.

“Yeah,” Jeff sighs, but his fingers reach across the car and settle atop her hand where it’s clasping the stick shift. “But worth it, right?”

She’s been smiling so much that her cheeks hurt, but at that, she damn-near beams ear to ear. “Yeah, baby,” she says, heat pooling low in her stomach when Jeff lets out a soft little gasp. “You’re worth it.”

PART 10

[hellcheer-heaven]

Precious Pup

Short story from my old Eddie Munson account that’s getting the Hellcheer treatment.

Another quiet night at Castle Munson, Chrissy rested her head on Eddie’s chest while they watched the 7 o’clock news. Same old, same old: Updates regarding the economy, the continuous divide between those with wealth and those that were struggling, and Reagan talking about the state of national security and international affairs. They more or less paid attention, but really the television was kept on as background noise until they decided to shut it off. The two of them would usually spend their evenings listening to music, cooking, and going for a quick evening stroll. Tonight however they preferred to just turn in early and do nothing. They already finished a quick meal of leftover pizza rolls and beer. Well the one beer bottle was for Eddie, Chrissy gave it a sip and opted for juice instead.

“Okay that’s enough tv for tonight,” Eddie noted as he reached out and pressed the button.

Chrissy got up, stretched out her back, and yawned, “What time is it?”

Before Eddie could utter another word, a loud crash came from outside. They stood frozen in place, not even so much as breathing when all was quiet. The silence was broken by the sound of rustling and so they hurried to snatch whatever they could grab within arm’s reach. Chrissy was prepared with the table side lamp and Eddie clutched on to the 10 pound dumbbell. Of all the nights Uncle Wayne didn’t have any bullets, it had to be tonight. Eddie stood in front of Chrissy, hand on the doorknob and ready to pulverize whoever or whatever was out there.

Chrissy stood at his side, she looked at the door and then to him, “On three: One, two, three!”

Nothing. Nothing was out there. The only thing that seemed out of the ordinary was a nearby trash can that had tipped over. Still they had to be cautious. As they slowly approached the knocked over container, they noticed the pile of garbage rustling about. Hopefully it was just a raccoon, at least let it be a raccoon.

The two of them crept closer, stopping when the trash moved again. Suddenly they heard something different. Small, whimpering, and frightened. Eddie hurried to move everything out of the way until he found the source. A little pit bull puppy with the sweetest pair of eyes anybody could ever look into. The poor thing was tired, cold, and hungry. No collar was spotted, the little dear emitted the saddest cries that could make a soldier tear up. Chrissy removed her varsity jacket and wrapped up the lost puppy, sweetly cooing that she was safe.

Chrissy drew a lukewarm bath for the tiny bundle, using whatever was left in her shampoo bottle to scrub her clean. Meanwhile Eddie was searching through the cabinets and fridge to find something for the pup to chow down on. A mixture of sliced lunch meats and a boiled egg would have to do. They sat beside her as she scarfed down the freshest meal that she’s had in hours, probably even days.

“Poor thing. How long do you think she’s been out there?” Chrissy asked as she watched the mini canine eat.

Eddie sighed, “I don’t know. Where do you think she came from?”

She reached her hand out slowly, she felt her heart break as the puppy retreated and cowered in the corner, “She’s so scared.”

He pecked Chrissy’s forehead, “Hey it’s okay, she’s safe now.” He reached out his hand, gently clicking his tongue, “Come here. Come here, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you, baby.”

The puppy refused, staying as far away as possible. The two of them would never know her history. All they knew was that she could start again in a family that would cherish her. Care for her. Take her out for walks. And give her the kind of love that was missing in her life.

[gerrystamour]

down on your two knees (to save your soul) [chapter one... kinda]

Teen (for now)★Gareth/OMC★In Progress

So this is technically a prequel to my fic here i have found some peace of mind and it's about Gareth and my OC Tig!! Thank you @strangerthingsocweek for give me the push to actually like... finish this fucking chapter? I guess? This is largely unedited, but like... alas! Tagging the Scromies: @starryeyedjanai @sidekick-hero @steddieas-shegoes @stobinesque @vecnuthy @tboygareth @patchworkgargoyle @sentient-trash @puppy-steve @theheadlessphilosopher @wormdebut And tagging the honorary Scromies: @hellion-child @spectrum-spectre

“This isn’t my decision, Eddie—”

“Oh, come off it, Chris. Even if it was, you know you’d be saying the same fucking thing—”

“Then why are you wasting our time arguing with me?”

Now that was the million-dollar question, right there. Why was Eddie arguing with her? Gareth was pretty sure Eddie just liked the sound of his own whining and Chrissy couldn’t help but rise to it every time.

“Because this is our band—”

“Enough!”

Everyone jumped at Freak’s loud outburst, silence falling over the tiny boardroom they were all piled into as they looked at him. He was massaging his forehead, a grimace clear in his expression.

Glancing at the screen of his phone, Gareth flinched as he realized they had been sitting there for forty-five minutes, and forty of those were dedicated to Eddie and Chrissy arguing in circles. Jeff had had his head on the table before Freak’s shout, and his mouth was still a tense line.

“You’re right, Eddie. This is our band, and that includes Chrissy,” Freak said pointedly, and Eddie actually had the grace to glance away, shame-faced, his mouth snapping shut. Seemingly satisfied, Freak said, “Stop being a dick and let her actually finish what she was saying.”

“Thank you, Freak,” Chrissy sighed, sitting back in her chair at the head of the table. “Now, as I was saying, the label can’t have us canceling shows if we’re headlining.”

“Gee, thanks, Chris,” Eddie bit out, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“It was different when we were openers,” she continued a bit shakily, shrugging a shoulder, “but we’re about to start what the label’s anticipating being a sold-out arena tour.”

Jeff’s expression went slack, and Gareth knew his own eyebrows had disappeared behind his fringe.

“Sorry, can you repeat that?” Jeff asked, tilting his better ear toward her. “Did you say sold-out?”

“Anticipated, yes,” Chrissy replied, smirking just a bit smugly about it.

Gareth scoffed incredulously. “Fuck ‘sold-out’, did you just say arena tour?” He looked around the table. “How the hell did we score an arena tour?”

“Between your explosion in popularity and the docuseries deal…” Chrissy said, trailing off as she looked at Eddie a bit sadly. “I’m sorry, Eddie. I know how much you wanted to make this the tour you were back for, but canceling two of our appearances and needing a sub on guitar at the end of Ghost’s tour has the label spooked.”

Gareth sneered at the mention of the sub they were saddled with. When he looked over at Eddie, though, his chest squeezed at the way his oldest friend was staring up at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. All the fight had left him, and Gareth could tell he was resigning himself to the decision. Jeff leaned over to wrap a hand over Eddie’s shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath. “Whoever we bring on better be good,” Eddie bit out eventually, his voice thick as he turned a flat look on Chrissy. “We’re not slowing down for them.”

At that, Chrissy actually broke into a grin and clapped her hands together. “Well, you’re in luck because I’ve already brought someone on and he’s ridiculously talented,” she said in a rush, and they all just blinked at her. There was a sinking feeling in Gareth’s gut about the whole thing.

“He should actually be here soon to talk to you— oh, that might be him,” Chrissy continued, hopping up when there was a quiet knock at the door. When she opened it, she smiled politely and said, “Yeah, just send him back.”

Turning back to them, Jeff gestured for her to elaborate. “Are you going to tell us who it is?”

Chrissy frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Oh, c’mon guys, don’t act like you don’t know who it is,” she deadpanned, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Gareth immediately thought of the smug behemoth that subbed for Eddie’s guitar parts and grimaced, crossing his arms over his chest petulantly. At the same time, however, the rest of the band’s faces lit up excitedly, even Eddie’s. Of fucking course Eddie would be fine with being coddled, babied— nay, treated like a fucking invalid if it meant some hot, overrated giant was going to be around more often.

There was another knock on the door and Chrissy immediately opened it with a grin. “Morgan! Welcome back,” she said brightly, and the name threw Gareth off just enough that his shoulders relaxed and dropped down from around his ears.

He didn’t know a Morgan, he didn’t think, but that was fine! At least it wasn’t—

“Ugh, that’s the name the lawyers use for me,” came an impossibly deep, slightly accented voice as Chrissy stepped back, staring up at the man coming into the boardroom with nothing short of awe.

Sure e-fucking-nough, in walked the very giant Gareth had hoped wouldn’t be returning. The asshole actually ducked his head under the door frame is if it was too fucking low for him to clear it.

“Please, just call me Tig,” the man said before looking around the room with a giant grin, his blue eyes pausing on Gareth just long enough to wink at him.

It had been months since the band saw Tig last, and Gareth hated that he looked good. His hair was a vibrant pink at that moment (very much not the blue it was when he was touring with them) and with complete and utter dismay, Gareth realized he had a new fucking tattoo on his throat. It was almost a blackout tattoo, but on the front of his throat it looked like a honeycomb. The pattern faded into proper blackout where it wrapped around the column of his neck and up to the line of his jaw. It was distracting, and Gareth just wanted to chew that shit off.

Tig had been brought in as quickly as possible at the end of Corroded Coffin’s tour with Ghost when Eddie’s nerve pain flared up to the point that he could barely perform, let alone play his guitar. Despite being unable to play and upset about that, Eddie and Tig immediately hit it off. They had been nearly inseparable, between Tig’s (admittedly genius level) skill on guitar and Eddie’s passion for finding the ugliest, grossest, and scariest bugs imaginable. What was worse was that Tig had the ugliest, grossest, and scariest bugs imaginable tattooed all over his body.

Even Freak had taken a shine to him, actually finding his fucking childish antics hilarious. Jeff barely even hesitated about returning Tig’s over-the-top flirtations, too.

Gareth couldn’t fucking stand him.

Across the table, Freak was looking at him with an eyebrow raised and a little, smug smirk. Gareth flipped him off before crossing his arms and slouching back in his chair.

The first problem he had with Tig was that the man was so goddamn tall. It honestly hurt Gareth’s neck to meet his eyes most of the time, and then the dick went and wore fucking platform boots as if he needed three more inches. Whenever he did that, Gareth was practically eye-level with Tig’s goddamn bellybutton (and the man’s stupid fucking piercing there) which filled him with something that could only be rage with how hot he felt all over. Hot like flames were engulfing him, flames of anger and shit.

The second problem was that Gareth was, apparently, Tig’s fucking fan.

See, Tig used to be part of a masked, anonymous band named Rake as the lead guitarist and unclean vocalist. Their whole get-up, especially in the last era of their career as a band, were full suits and bird-themed masks, leaving only enough skin visible for the guitarists to play and the vocalists to sing. Rake was up there in popularity, even for a metal band, somehow making it big while maintaining their anonymity. That was until, of course, a fateful music festival in Nevada during a record-breaking heatwave.

Gareth was a huge fan of Rake— they were literally his favourite band, so when he found out Corroded Coffin was going to be playing at the same festival as Rake and they were scheduled perfectly so he was going to be able to see Rake perform? He was ecstatic and he weaponized his elbows to get to the barrier.

Their entire aesthetic looked fucking rad but watching them perform in triple-digit weather really put it all into perspective.

Mid-set, it was obvious that the lead guitarist was suffering. Somehow, Tig was still hitting all the correct chords and nailing every single one of his lines, but between songs he was guzzling water, pouring it on himself, turning his back to the crowd to lift his mask up off his face even. He had already shed as many layers of his costume as he could just short of showing off skin. The other members were also having a rough time, but none of them seemed nearly as bad as Tig.

(Since meeting him, Gareth had come to learn that Tig is just annoying and dramatic, especially in any amount of weather hotter than 90 degrees.)

Eventually, Tig swayed unsteadily enough that the other vocalist had to grab his arm to keep him from eating shit. There was a moment where they were clearly arguing, though it was hard to tell with the beaks of the masks being in the way. Eventually, Tig began to roll up his sleeves, exposing very distinctly tattooed forearms that had more than a few audience members shouting in excitement.

The thing was, Gareth recognized the tattoos, but where he recognized them from was escaping him. The tattoo that stood out to him in that moment was the Lichtenberg figure that started on his thumb and crawled up his arm, branching out into a perfect mess of lines and angles. It had been almost thrilling to have that moment of knowing, that split-second where he knew who was under that mask even if he couldn’t actually immediately recall who it was.

But then there were gasps in the crowd, and people began shouting something that Gareth couldn’t quite hear properly, and Tig’s shoulders drooped a bit. Looking around himself, Gareth took in the sea of people around him and noticed that a few of them had their phones out. The girl next to him at the barrier was on Twitter, frantically scrolling through the people she followed.

Upon realizing that his favourite guitarist (after Jeff and Eddie, of course) was apparently Twitter famous, Gareth was pissed. It just felt ridiculous that a metal guitarist would be famous on the fucking bird app without their music as the reason. It felt like they sold out, like some influencer was behind the music.

Then Tig stepped up to the microphone and— in an impossibly deep and slightly accented voice that Gareth absolutely fucking knew in a way that had him blushing in the middle of a crowd of metalheads— he said, “well, I guess the cat’s outta the bag now.”

See, Gareth knew on some level that the members of Rake were probably recognizable in some way other than their looks off the stage because none of them ever spoke. They would go on stage, perform their set, and leave. It wasn’t that weird, given their entire gimmick with the masks, so Gareth really didn’t think too much about it. Now that Gareth heard that voice and recognized it immediately as one that frequently featured in his horniest daydreams, the gimmick made a whole lot more sense.

The thing was that Gareth knew that voice and those tattooed arms— and, yep, the man was unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the massive and distinctive tattoo of a cicada across his chest— and they belonged to the one OnlyFans creator he was fucking subscribed to.

“Let’s get back to the show, then,” Tig growled into the mic, and the music immediately picked back up as if a quarter of the crowd didn’t just get their shit rocked.

Later that night when he was back at his hotel, Gareth pulled up Twitter and sure enough, there was a new post from xX-Tamer Tig-Xx. It was a selfie of Tig standing in front of a mirror, completely naked while he held his iconic plague doctor mask over his cock. Black body paint was still on his hands, throat, and around his mouth, as if he just stripped and took the selfie after the concert. It was posted with a caption that read, “So, big news incoming 😳 IYKYK 😏”

The ensuing chaos the news threw part of the metal scene into was nothing short of fucking batshit insane. Gareth and Eddie were eating it all up as they watched YouTube reactors express their opinions on the matter. They watched the way Rake blew up on TikTok now that it was known that at least one of the band members was already a well-known “accountant” on the app. After about a week, the rest of the band unmasked too, and it turned out all of them were sex workers by trade.

It was shortly after that when Rake announced that they would be permanently disbanding now that they were unmasked, which was devastating for Gareth. He mostly understood, of course, because the anonymity was ultimately important to them, so their sex work and music was wholly separated. Plus, Rake was very vocal as an entity on their socials that they were always intending to complete a trilogy of albums and they achieved that. It just felt wrong, as if their hands were forced to announce it early, or they were robbed of their chance to just quietly disappear forever without revealing anything.

After a couple months, Rake sat down for a full profile piece for an article about them unmasking, their feelings about it and the end of their careers as Rake. All five of them seemed happy with the way the band was ending things, that they could finally be more open about their friendships with each other, even outside of their working relationships. Hell, the drummer and the lead vocalist were fucking married. Like, real-life married, and they had to hide that on stage. In the interview, they said they were most excited to be able to actually interact with their opening bands, and something in that made Gareth realize how much that anonymity probably felt very isolating. Thinking about how much Corroded Coffin got to learn from the bands they were opening with and for, he couldn’t imagine that lack of collaboration.

The article itself had images of all the members unmasked and in various states of undress. Tig’s photo was the most provocative, with him standing in profile and completely naked except for his platform boots, one leg bent just enough to keep his modesty. His arms were held up, hands tangled in his own hair, but he was looking directly at the camera over the muscled curve of his biceps.

Despite being subscribed to his OnlyFans, Gareth still saved that image to his phone and told himself that was completely normal behaviour. He had lots of photos and videos of Tig naked on his phone. It wasn’t weird.

Plus, he foolishly thought, it wasn’t like he was ever going to fucking meet the man, especially since Rake was breaking up and none of them had immediate plans to return to the stage, even as a solo act.

Gareth jumped as someone knocked on the table to get his attention, and he glared at the heavily tattooed hand that was there. Turning his sneer up at Tig’s face, he felt something squirm in his gut as the man just smirked knowingly.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tig crooned as he sat down, leaning close to Gareth to ask in a conspiratorial stage-whisper, “miss me?”

“Like a fucking toothache, Slenderman,” Gareth spat, and Tig only grinned broadly at him, showing off all of his perfectly white teeth. They weren’t perfectly straight, but they were so fucking white, it was ridiculous. Unfair. Disgusting even.

“I missed you, too, sweetheart,” Tig sighed before turning his attention to Chrissy as she stood back up to start going over the details of him temporarily joining Corroded Coffin.

This was going to be the worst, Gareth thought— nay, he knew.

[ladykailitha]

Hiya! Could I have one for the Metal Band sequel please?

WIP Wednesday!

Just clearing out the asks from yesterday!

Again this is from before, I'll let you know when it jumps back ahead to the convention.

Other asks here.

Snippet

Steve pursed his lips together and silent walked to his overnight bag that had all his toiletries in it. He rummaged around in it for a moment and then tossed something at Chrissy, who cuaght it deftly in her hands.

She looked at the object. It was the concealer she was talking about, she opened it to find it half used. She looked up at Steve who was a deep shade of red and Eddie who looked like a kicked puppy.

“Why do you have this, Steve?” she asked slowly, turning the bottle between her forefinger and thumb.

Steve coughed and turned away, absentmindedly scratching his cheek. “So you know how on tour we had to make sure that people didn’t think Eddie and me were a couple?”