#live laugh love ronnie

[t4tbedehopmar]

i hope u all know i'm not a rinneP. i'm a very proud ronnieP 😌😌

[jo-harrington]

Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover

Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader

Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events

Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

May 2022. Such a weird time.

A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.

But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.

A new, old person. Eddie Munson.

Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.

So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”

If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.

That’s just not how the universe works.

At least…not this one...

October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.

But Eddie Munson was real.

Sometimes to his detriment.

And for the most part, it was alright.

He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.

It would be his day week month year sometime soon.

Wouldn't it?

But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.

What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.

It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."

"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."

No...no you weren't.

Why couldn't you be real.

See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.

A show where you were his favorite character.

And crush.

You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.

And man...Eddie had been there.

He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.

He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.

Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.

Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.

He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.

Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.

Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.

He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.

He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.

And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.

If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.

He knew…he just knew.

Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.

"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.

"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."

"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."

By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.

And then the unthinkable happened.

September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.

Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.

On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.

Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.

He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.

Or a big one.

How could he have known this would be anything but one...

Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.

He adored you.

Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.

He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.

The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.

Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.

Gross.

Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.

Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.

...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...

Eddie went rigid as he read those words.

The show...coming to an end?

"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."

He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.

The title of the feature was like crit hit.

The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.

One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season

The final season was a sham.

Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!

He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.

It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.

Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.

Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.

And you? You took a backseat.

Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.

Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.

Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.

Worthy of being the main character for once.

Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.

And Eddie cried.

The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.

He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.

The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.

"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.

Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.

It was a strange feeling.

Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?

You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.

But that wasn't you.

You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.

How could he go on without you?

Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.

If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.

Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.

He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.

The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.

"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.

Or until he needed a condom.

Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.

But there you stayed.

Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.

At least for a little while.

Eddie tried.

He did.

He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.

The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.

The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.

Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.

There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.

Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.

That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.

"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."

Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.

"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."

He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.

"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”

He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.

He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.

He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.

It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.

He could do this.

Or...

He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.

And given the choice?

Eddie Munson chose the latter.

And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.

Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.

They were cherished nights with you.

Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.

Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.

Third times a charm and all right?

He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.

Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.

Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.

He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.

An eternal bond, just you and him.

He stopped his ramblings at that thought.

It was a strange moment of clarity.

Where had that come from?

"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"

What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.

One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.

And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.

It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.

You'd never answer; you weren't real.

"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"

If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.

And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.

Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.

Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.

This crash, however, started a ruckus.

Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.

Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.

What else was there to do in the Midwest?

He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.

A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.

"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"

"Mom! Stop!"

"The car, Max!"

Maybe there'd be a fight.

He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.

He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.

Or it was a coincidence.

Or a dream.

Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?

Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.

But with the same license plate number?

The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.

"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."

It was a coincidence. It was a dream.

He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.

It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?

Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.

It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.

And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.

Because that driver was you.

Next Chapter: Alternate Universe

There is no taglist for this series, please follow the STFF Updates tag or check the series out on AO3.

[lee-laurent]

Caught (Red-Handed) - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Sneaking out to see her boyfriend isn't as easier as she thought it would be

notes: i know this is a cliche plot. but i have writers block. so here we are. sorry :/ cute little summer romance tho with some drama

content: fluff, angst, kissing, mentions of sex but no actual smut, mentions of being a "puck bunny", slight age gap, supposed cheating (it's not really. you'll see)

Veronica Zegras was head over heels in love with Quintin Hughes. She had been since Jack and Trevor were in the USNTDP and she'd met him when going with their mom to pick up Trevor from the Hughes' house.

In fact, when she thought of that day it still made her heart flutter all these years later.

"Wanna come in with me? Officially meet the Hughes? They have a son your age... Luke, I think," Julie smiled at her daughter.

"No."

"I wasn't really asking, V. Let's go."

The girl sighed, following her mom to the front door. Veronica hated meeting new people.

"Julie! Hi! And this must be Veronica," the blonde woman that opened the door smiled widely.

"Hi," Veronica waved slightly, peering behind the woman into the house.

"Come in! Come in! The boys are just cleaning up the game they were playing in the basement."

Veronica followed her mom, to the living room. Her eyes falling on the teenage boy fiddling with an Xbox controller.

"This is my oldest, Quinn. Quinn, this is Trevor's sister, Veronica."

"Hi," he paused his game, smiling shyly.

Veronica felt her cheeks heat up. He was so cute! She felt herself squeal on the inside when he smiled at her. She wasn't one for talking about boys with her friends, mostly because all her friends thought Trevor was cute (ew.) but she was definitely going to tell them about this Quinn character.

"Trevor! Your mom is here!"

"COMING!"

The sound of loud footsteps running up the stairs filled the room, but Veronica had yet to take her eyes off the cute boy sitting on the couch.

"What's Ronnie doing here?" Trevor questioned. Veronica cringed when she heard Jack laugh at her nickname.

"She's going to her friend's house. Now hurry up before we make your sister late."

"Whatever," Trevor rolled his eyes, "Later, Jack. See ya, Quinn."

"Bye. Bye, Veronica. It was cool meeting you," Quinn smiled.

"You too," she blushed, rushing out of the house before her brother noticed.

"What're you thinkin' about?" Quinn asked, brushing some of her hair from her eyes.

"Hm?"

"What're you thinkin' about?" he repeated, a smile covering his face.

"You."

"What about me?"

"The first time we met."

Quinn laughed, "When I didn't even get off the couch to say 'hi?''"

"Yeah, but I still thought you were cute."

"Oh, I knew."

"What?! You never told me that!!"

"You were blushing the whole time. It was funny."

"You're so mean," she pushed him away teasingly, pouting at his words.

"I am not. You love me," he pulled her closer to him, pressing kisses all over her face. She giggled, finally planting one on his mouth.

"I do."

"Do what?" he smirked.

"I love you, Q."

"And I love you, V."

Quinn leaned in, kissing her hungrily. She wrapped her arms around his neck, allowing him to roll her onto her back. She giggled, breaking the kiss. He rolled his eyes, going in for another one. Just as his hand was sneaking under her shirt, the door swung open.

"God! You two are like fucking rabbits," Luke complained, shielding his eyes with his hand.

"Shut up," Quinn spat, pulling the covers over them to give them at least some decency.

"Keep this up and it'll be Trevor that walks in next time."

"What do you want?" Veronica sighed.

"Trevor is up. Thought you might wanna go back to your own room for when he decides to come 'wake you up,'" Luke suggested. "If I walk in you two having sex one more time, I'm never helping you again."

"We weren't having sex."

"You were getting there," Luke scoffed, closing the door as he walked off.

"See you for breakfast, babe," Veronica kissed Quinn one last time, pulling her long shirt down to cover her ass as she ventured down the hall to the room she was supposed to be sleeping in.

Luke had found out the two were dating two months prior and had promised to keep in under wraps, mostly because Quinn threatened to kill him if he told anyone. It wasn't that the couple didn't want to tell Trevor and Jack, it's just that they liked being in their own little bubble. And Trevor would actually freak out if he found out his 20-year-old sister was dating a 24-year-old. He was weird like that. Trevor knew she had a boyfriend, but he didn't who he was. He didn't even know his name.

"Morning, Q! How'd you sleep?" Trevor asked, annoyingly awake for it only being 8:30.

"Great," Quinn sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"V still sleeping?" Jack asked Trevor, slicing some strawberries for breakfast.

"Probably. She was probably up all night texting her boyfriend. Mom said they're doing a 'long distance summer' or some shit."

"She's still seeing him?"

"Yeah," Trevor shrugged, stealing one of the berries. "Why do you sound so surprised?"

"Just thought she would've ended things by now. Your sister isn't known for her commitment," Jack replied, pulling the bowl away from his friend.

Quinn rolled his eyes at the remark. He knew standing up for her would seem suspicious, so he kept his lips sealed. Sure, before she'd made the move to Vancouver the year before, Quinn would also question Veronica's commitment issues, but their relationship was proof that it was all just in the boys' heads.

"Her puck bunny era ended," Cole laughed.

Trevor chuckled, "Yeah, like a month after she moved to Vancouver. Guess the Canucks just aren't her type."

God, he couldn't be more wrong. In fact, the front man for the Canucks was the definition of her type.

"I'm going to wake her up."

"Have fun."

Trevor bounced up the stairs, knocking aggresively on the door of the room his sister was staying in, "Rise and shine, bitch!! Boat day!!"

"I'm coming!" she yelled back, fixing her hair in her phone camera.

"Hurry up before we eat all the food."

"Your fat ass would!" she retorted, pushing past him to go downstairs.

"I'm not fat! Jack, tell Ronnie that I'm not fat!"

Jack laughed, almost choking on his toast, "He's not fat, Ronnie! Jeez!"

"He eats like he is," she winked at Quinn, grabbing the piece of toast he was about to bite. He rolled his eyes, reaching for another.

"You finally gonna wakesurf, Ron?" Luke smiled cheekily.

"Hell no! And risk my life in front of you idiots, count me out."

"Bet you'd look hot doing it," Jack teased, earning a slap to the back of the head from Trevor.

"No, she'd look average as usual."

"Shut up, Trev. Fucking annoying ass," she mumbled to herself, stealing more food from Quinn's plate.

"Get your own," he grumbled, using his arms to guard his plate.

"But the food from your plate tastes better than food from my plate," she whined, trying to manoeuvre her way past his blockade.

The bickering between Veronica and Quinn was so usual that nobody even batted an eye, choosing to continue their own conversations while Veronica attempted to wrestle Quinn for his food.

"PUT ME DOWN!" she screeched, hit at his bare back as he marched outside with her thrown over his shoulder.

"If you promise to stop stealing my food," he smirked.

"NEVER!"

And with that her body hit the lake with a loud SPLASH! Veronica surfaced, coughing to clear the water from her nose. The rest of the boys had gathered at the sliding glass doors to the back porch, laughing loudly at the scene in front of them.

"I hate you!" she sputtered, pulling herself out of the water. She peeled her soaked t-shirt off, chucking it at Quinn. He laughed, admiring her figure as she sauntered back to the house, hair dripping wet.

The group gathered on the boat, Veronica changed into dry clothes. She hated sitting there all wet and cold, especially with the wind from the boat. Quinn was driving and she was sat in the passenger seat as always... Quinn's passenger princess.

"Why does Ronnie get to sit next to Quinn?" Trevor whined, "Maybe I wanted to sit next to Quinn."

"Pretty privilege. You'd never understand," Veronica sassed, pulling her sunglasses off her head.

"Who told you that you're pretty?" Trevor scoffed.

"My boyfriend."

"Are we sure he's real?"

"Rude! He's very real."

"Yeah, he's just Canadian," Jack laughed.

"My boyfriend doesn't go here. He's Canadian," Cole joked.

"Shut up!" she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "Hate you dumbasses. Should've gone on a girls' trip."

"Alright, who's surfing first?" Quinn asked, ending the petty argument about how real his girlfriend's boyfriend was.

"Are you sure you're not mad?" Trevor asked again, watching as his sister rummaged through the fridge for vodka he'd hidden from her.

"I'm not mad, Trev. Just drop it."

"I didn't mean to embarass you in front of the guys. I swear."

"Trev, I said it's fine. Where's the alcohol?"

"You're not drinking."

"What? Why not?"

"Cause you always get wayyyy too touchy-feely when you drink."

She rolled her eyes, going to find her boyfriend. He'd get her alcohol. Her knuckles rapped against his door.

"Come in! Oh, hey, baby. What's up?"

"Trev hid the alcohol from me," she starfished on his bed.

"Why?" he asked, pulling out some regular shorts to change into.

"He said I get too 'touchy-feely' when I drink."

"I mean..."

"Shut up. You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm not saying I'm on his side, babe. It's just... he kinda has a point."

"Quiiiiinnnnnn."

"Why don't you do that water bottle trick you showed me?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I won't say anything. Just... try to keep your hands to yourself."

"But what if I wanna touch my super hot, hockey star boyfriend?" she smirked, placing her palms on his chest.

"I'd strongly advise against it. But... if you come to sleep in here tonight, I won't argue," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"I love you, Qball."

"Love you too, V."

Veronica had emptied a quarter of a plastic water bottle, filling the rest with vodka. It was a trick she'd made in high school, one that her brother still hadn't picked up on. She was sat next to Quinn, slowly sipping at her 'water.'

Luke, who was also underage, was allowed to drink. But not her. Whatever. Quinn would make up for it. He always did.

"How's school?" Cole asked, sipping his beer.

"Oh, it's good. Almost done."

"You, uh, you live on campus?"

"No, I have my own place."

That was a lie. She lived with Quinn.

"How's that? Lonely?" Jack questioned.

"Not really. I have friends that come over like every day."

"And her boyfriend," Trevor smiled.

"Yeah. And my boyfriend."

"How long have you guys been together?"

"A year back in June," she grinned, noticing the blush covering Quinn's face.

"Damn. Getting serious?"

"Uh, I guess."

"He gonna meet Trev soon?"

"Whenever he's ready," she nodded, taking a much larger sip of her drink.

"Who? Trev or your boyfriend?"

"Both," she cackled, side-eyeing Quinn.

The rest of the night went smoothly and Veronica was just about to make her way down the hall to Quinn's room. She had brushed her teeth, put on her cutest pjs (one of Quinn's old Canucks shirts and a pair of tiny shorts), and fixed her hair from the lake water.

"Hey, babe," he smiled, putting his phone down on his bedside table.

"Hi," she beamed, sliding into the bed next to him.

"Nice shirt."

"Thanks. I stole it from this loser I know."

"Loser, huh? I would've guessed he was like super cool and hot."

"Meh."

"Oh, that's it," he laughed, attacking her with kisses. He pinned her wrists down, their teeth clashing as they kissed. It was sloppy and they were both a bit tipsy, but God did they love kissing. They'd do it all day, every day if they could.

She hummed, feeling his hands reach under her shirt. They skimmed the skin of her chest, his lips coming down to press wet kisses along her neck.

She gasped at the feeling, "No marks."

"I know," he groaned, "Can I take this off?"

"The shirt?"

"Yeah."

"Sure," she helped him pull it over her head, laying back down on the pillows.

"Fuck, you're perfect, V."

"That's all you, Q."

Just as he was about to snake his hand higher up her thigh, the door opened.

"You didn't lock it?!" she whisper-shouted.

"No?"

"What the hell?!" Trevor jumped, covering his eyes.

Quinn was quick to pull his shirt off, using it to cover his girlfriend.

"You can uncover your eyes," the older boy sighed.

"What is going on?! Veronica! You HAVE A BOYFRIEND! You're cheating on him with QUINN?!"

She rolled her eyes, "No, Trev-"

"You clearly are!"

"No, Trevor. I'm not cheating on my boyfriend. Quinn is my boyfriend."

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, surprise?" she shrugged, smiling sheepishly.

"Your boyfriend of a year?"

"Yeah."

"The boyfriend Mom said gave you a promise ring?"

"Yeah."

"There's no way."

Quinn flipped his phone around, showing his wallpaper to Trevor. It was a picture of the couple at family skate, laughing at something someone behind the camera had said.

"WHAT?!"

Veronica laughed, making Trevor frown.

"This is insane. I'm going to bed. This is just a weird dream," he walked off.

"I wonder what he's gonna say in the morning when he finds out it was real," Veronica giggled.

"Doesn't matter right now. Now, where were we?"

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

you are keeping us well fed with the disabled!reader poolverine storyline tysm <3

The older boys, once fed and walked settled in with their devices. Content to play games with Wade and annoy you. The younger, Logan noted, velcroed himself to your side. Wanting to be held, wanting to be snuggled. And you were more than happy to do it.

He didn't want to rough house. When the livingroom devolved into a baby cage match, he brought you a book. Clamoring into your lap. And the two men traded a look.

You gathered him up, kissing the side of his head and just started reading. No questions or protests. And even the Older boys, drawn in by their own memories of story time made their way over with pillows to sprawl on. Settling in with their phones.

They felt a pang. You wouldn't get your own babies to cuddle, but it was pretty clear that the kids that you did get to love knew you were safe in your house. Making themselves at home. All day, they hadn't hesitated to get a snack or tease you. They never flinched at what Wade looked like or Logan's brooding. They knew your world was different even if they didn't know how exactly.

When Ronnie, the youngest dozed off you held him for a little bit before wiggling out and letting him lay on the couch and throwing a blanket over him. "Looks like I should start figuring out dinner, huh?"

"Pizza?" Zach, the oldest put in.

"You got, pizza money, homie?" you ask, leaning on the back of his chair, "Because I got 'works for the state' money and that will not order pizza for you three heathens."

"Aww man-"

"I do have mac and cheese stuff and some smoked susage and green beans, though," you muse.

"But is there extra cheese?" Zach asked.

"Do I look like your mother?"

He grinned and you ruffled his hair, heading to the kitchen to go start cooking and he followed you. Logan listened with half an ear, he knew a kid looking for a pep talk when he saw one.

And when he leaned against your shoulder and you rested your head on his for a second, Logan smiled a little. evidently you did too. "What's wrong, bug?"

"Nothing-"

"Uh-huh."

Zach huffed and you just waited, filling a pot with water and bustling around. "I just- mom's got me signed up for so much shit- and like, why?"

"Mostly because your grandma did it to us," you muse. "And also because she doesn't want you to turn out like us- mostly me."

Zach gave you a look and you smile a little. "I spent an absurd amount of time trying to be someone I wasn't baby. I just... Don't care about cars and having a big ass house. I don't WANT the life they mapped out for me. And even if I DID, I'm not sure I could even do it."

He watched you work for a second and looked at his brothers before looking back at you. "I used to try. And I'm not saying you shouldn't. But. Give yourself some grace... And as hard as it can be, give your mom some grace. She loves you."

He snorted and you crinkle your nose. "She does. Even if she doesn't show it like we want her to- Remember. She ALSO had to survive our parents and live to tell about it."

Zach shook his head, "Grandma is unhinged, dude."

"And she mellowed out once Dad started slipping her Klonopin. So. Imagine what she was like BEFORE that."

"Ugh." Zach shuddered and you nudged him out of your way handing him a soda with a laugh.

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 17 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Thank you for your patience with me. I'm still moving a bit slow but I've been living in my comfort fics while writing a new comfort fic so yeah <3

Warnings: Dads Steddie and Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, mostly near the end with a lot of passion between da boys. FLUFF , we have an adorable addition to the Munson-Harrington crew <3 as well as Ro's birthday. ANGST because I'm me, Steve does something stupid with the best intentions, Him and Eddie get into a fight, Eddie's dad makes a cameo, Eddie talks about first moving in with Wayne, Dylan talks about divorce (dont panic! Its fine. We're all fine. Im not that angsty.) and I think that's it.

Word Count: 5369

“Ok, ladies and gentlemen, what are the bets this time around?” The doctor grins as he looks at your little family. 

“We’re at 3 to 2 with girl being in the lead.”, Steve beams.

“I love it. Let’s take a look.”

It had been about four months since you found out you were pregnant again and this time around was rough. The first few months were spent throwing up pretty much everything you ate and your cravings had been stronger than they had been before. You found yourself getting grumpier and more irritable which the boys didn’t seem to mind, doing everything they could to make things easier. 

You got the house by the lake and everyone (especially Wayne) was excited for the move. Aurora’s birthday was coming up soon which, while still happy, always made you and Eddie nervous. That first year his mom showed up at your door and the two birthdays after she called his phone begging him to come speak at his father’s appeal. 

Steve finally told his mom that you were pregnant with his biological child and she was over the moon. He begged her not to tell his dad and so far she seemed to honor his request. 

“Alright, Munson-Harrington gang. Congratulations, it looks like we have a healthy baby boy!”

***

“Ok, we have to think of a name.”, Eddie mused as he took a bite from the burger on his plate. “What do you think, kid?” Dylan shrugs causing the metalhead to playfully role his eyes. “You’re no help. What about you, my angel?”

“Han.”, Aurora smiles as she chews on her fries.

“I wouldn’t hate that. Harrison Ford in those earlier movies was so sexy.”

Your son makes a face as both men laugh. “You don’t have any special memories with a name? Like I did with Ro?”

Eddie thought for a moment before a smirk crept across his lips. “James.”, he nods, shifting his gaze towards you two. “When my mother left me with Wayne, I was confused. I genuinely thought she would be coming back so I sat on his couch by the door and just waited. Every now and then he would ask if I was ok or if I needed something and I always told him no. Right before dinner that night, he sat at his little table in the trailer with this rickety, old acoustic guitar and started playing Dio’s Rock n’ Roll Children.”, he chuckles. 

Dylan leaned against his side and Eddie lifts his arm to wrap around his shoulders. 

“Now my uncle is a god-awful singer but man could he play. I was so fascinated by how his fingers moved that I got up to sit with him. He smiled, placing a sandwich in front of me and I ate as I watch him. From that moment on, I knew I wanted to play the guitar. It took me a few days to realize Lynn wasn’t back but Wayne was always there with a new song. Anyway…”, he sighs as his voice becomes lighter. “The lead singers name is Ronnie James.”

You and Steve smile at him as you caress his leg under the table with your foot. 

“I like James.”

“Me to.”, the other man agrees. “James Wayne Munson-Harrington.”

#########

 “Oh, Y/N, you guys don’t have to do that.”, Wayne bashfully grins. 

“We know but we’re going to because we want to.” Winking at him, you stick your fork into the cake on the counter. 

“Honey, we have plates.”

“Yes, baby, we do. It’s this thing UNDER the cake.” Steve playfully narrows his eyes in your direction. “Look everyone else said they were full and I’m eating cake for two!”

He holds up his hands defensively as Eddie rounds the corner with Ro who reaches for her grandpa, demanding he hold her. 

“Listen here you. No more birthdays. We’re stopping today at four, understand?”

“No, granpa! I…be…a big girl.”, she declares tossing her hands in the air. 

The phone rings and Steve chuckles as he reaches over to answer it.

“Hello?”

“Hello. This is a collect call from Hawkins Penitentiary from inmate: Al Munson. Will you accept the call and charges?”

The man glances at Eddie who now has a big smile on his face as he tickles Aurora who in turn hides in Wayne’s neck hoping her father can’t reach her. After a few seconds, he hangs up.

“Who was it, baby?”, you ask.

“Wrong number.”

****

Steve’s foot bounces as he waits behind the glass, eyes constantly searching his surroundings. A guard on the other side, opens a door and brings over the prisoner placing him front of the awaiting man. He had never met Eddie’s dad but he had seen a few pictures. The inmate looking at him now was much older and worn by prison life. He did have a lot of his husband’s features especially in the face but his eyes weren’t as soft as Eddies. 

“You’re not my son.”

“No…no I’m not and neither is Eddie.” Allen squinted at his guest in confusion. “Look, I just came down here to tell you and Lynn to leave him alone. Every time we change our number, you guys always find it again and bother him on what is supposed to be a day about his daughter, not you. He spent so much time worried about you both and paying for the sins of everything you guys did to him. It’s time for him to be happy.”

“I see. And what are you going to do if I don’t, Mr. Harrington? Call the cops?”, he snickered. “I have done more than enough time to pay for my own sins. Edward could really help me out here and as my son he should want to.”

“What he wanted was a father and he found that in Wayne when your wife abandoned him. He gave up on you a long time ago.”

“Why are YOU here? Do you speak for him now since you fuck him?” Steve’s eyes narrowed in annoyance at the man’s comment. “Oh yeah. I know about you, him, and that girl…what’s her name. Honestly, I don’t give a shit about any of that. If my son wants to bend over and—”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking finish that sentence, Allen, or I swear God.”, he growled. “Listen, leave him alone and I can help you in here.”

“How can you help me?”

“I have some money set aside. I can give you some to make things a bit easier.”

Eddie’s dad’s jaw clenches as he weighs his options. “$500 a month and we have a deal.”

###########

A few months had passed and your little family had moved into your new home. Right on time to because about a month after James decided he was ready to join the Munson-Harrington clan. 

Aurora was completely fascinated by the new baby. 

“Dada, bra-der tiny.”

“He’s going to be tiny right now, honey. You have to be very careful with him.”

Her eyes widen as she gently pets the top of his head before leaning down to kiss his nose.

One night while he was crying, she watched as Eddie heated up a bottle and rocked him in his arms as he fed him. 

“Daddy, what’s wrong wit James?”

“He’s just hungry, princess. Babies eat EVERYTHING.” He widened his eyes making her laugh. “Do you want to help me?”

She nods, following him to the couch and takes a seat in his lap. Placing her little hand on the bottle, he allows her to hold it up as the baby continues to suck at its contents eagerly. 

Where Ro was a daddy’s girl, James was a mama’s boy. He loved being in your arms the most and the first time he smiled it was because you were kissing his chubby cheeks. 

Dylan, as always, was a wonderful big brother. He helped out where he could and even offered to babysit his siblings every now and then so you and the guys could spend some time alone. 

“Hey mom. I need some money for baseball. They said that we need $100 for boosters and some equipment.”

“Geez, isn’t that what boosters is for? To raise money for you people?” Dylan beams at you as he gives you a hug making you smile. “Steve? Little man needs $100 of baseball.”

“Jesus, why so much?”

You glanced in his direction taken a bit off guard. Usually when it came to the kids, if they needed anything financially, he didn’t think twice. Between the three of you, money wasn’t as tight but with the new baby and house things weren’t as easy as before so you let it go. Dylan answered his question and he dug in his wallet to give his son what he needed.

“Everything alright, babe?”

“Huh? Yeah, you know me. I just want to make sure we have everything, you know?”

Your head tilted to the side as your wife and mother senses started tingling again. He was hiding something but what could it be? If it was something involving a surprise for you or the kids his face and body language would normally radiate excitement. Something was wrong. 

“Hey, Dylan, do you mind keeping an eye on the other weirdos while I talk to Steve for a minute?”

He nods as you grab the man’s hand and tug him out towards the back porch. 

############

When Eddie got home from work, he found you sitting on the couch gnawing on your thumb as Steve paced in the living room. His eyes found yours as you motioned for him to come sit beside you. 

“Is everything ok? Where are the kids?”

“I asked my sister to watch them so the three of us could talk.” You softly smile as you kiss his cheek. “Steve has something he needs to tell you.”

“Okay? What’s going on, Stevie?”

The way Eddie looked up at him with concerned eyes made him feel so much worse at what he was about to tell him. 

“Um, so, remember how on Aurora’s birthday, you were ecstatic because your mom hadn’t called? Well, uh, your father actually called from prison that day. I answered and hung up on him.”

As the man spoke, you kept your eyes on the metalhead’s face as it slowly fell.

“I-I-I went down there to see him, Ed, and I warned him to leave you alone. He said he needed you and was tired of being in jail, that he and Lynn wouldn’t stop until you showed up at an appeal. So…” Steve’s panicked gaze shifted your way before he looked directly at the man he loved. “For the past few months, I’ve been paying Allen $500 to leave you alone.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened as he tilted his head subtly towards you. 

“Did you know about this?”, he whispered.

“No. I just found out everything today.”

He nodded as he rose to his feet, placing himself in front of Steve. 

“Eddie, I swear, I was trying to make things easier for you. I hated—”

The metalhead’s fist flew knocking the man backwards before climbing on top of him and swinging his arms. 

“Eddie, baby! Stop!” You tried to break them apart but he was too strong. Quickly, prepared for anything, you pushed a few buttons on your phone, sending a text to the one person you knew could get through to him. Three minutes later, Wayne flew in and pried his nephew off the man beneath him. 

“Hey! That is enough! I need you calm down, son.”

“How dare you fucking go behind my back like that, Steven! I told you both NOT to go down there!”

“I was trying to help!”

“By giving him money that can be used for our family, you fucking asshole! You think this is going to stop him?!” He tried to charge at the man again but his uncle held him back. “You have no idea what he’s like. I do!”

“Steve, maybe, you should go for a drive or something. Let him cool down.” He glanced your way and you softly nodded in agreement causing the man to hang his head as he quietly left the house. “Now you look at me, Ed.” Wayne grabbed the metalhead’s face forcing him to focus as he murmured low enough so only he could hear. 

“Eddie, I know you’re angry. I completely understand that but I need you breathe, ok? Your kids may not be here but Y/N is and she’s worried.” His chocolate eyes glanced at your concerned face as you hugged your arms around your body. “There you go. Can you sit on the couch calmly?”

He nods as he moves to take a seat. Without looking your way, his ringed fingers gesture for you to come closer and he pulls you onto his lap, hugging you to his chest. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t. When he told me what he did, I was angry to. Not just because of what he did but because I knew it would hurt you. Eddie, you know how Steve is. He genuinely thought he was protecting you.”

“No. No, Y/N. This is serious. This isn’t like when you went to his mom for money so he could go to school. My father isn’t someone who can be trusted. So many things can go wrong that can get Steve in real trouble. I…”, he shakes his head as he feels his anger rise again. 

“Baby, I’m not excusing what he did but, maybe, if you explain to him more about your father and how this could backfire—”

“Which I could have done if he came to me first.”

“I know, honey. I know.”, you coo as you rub his chest. “Wayne, would you like to stay here? You’re more than welcome. Plus, I’m sure the kids would love to see you when they come back tomorrow.”

***

Eddie’s uncle did spend the night while Steve ended up sleeping a hotel. He texted you letting you know where he was and that he thought it was best to give his husband some space. 

The two youngest kids were excited to see their grandpa when they got home but Dylan sensed something was wrong especially when he walked in and noticed his dad wasn’t there. 

“Is it because I asked for money?”

“No, baby. No.”, you whispered as you kissed his forehead. “He’ll be home later.”

Your answer didn’t seem to sooth him as he sat next to Wayne and watched him try to make James smile. 

“Sir, you have the fattest little belly I have ever seen. I could just…”, he made munching noises in his stomach making the baby giggle as he scrunched his head into his shoulders. 

“Beep beep.”, Aurora parroted as the front door opened and Steve cautiously entered the home. “Dada!” She ran to his arms and he scooped her up giving her a big hug. “Dada, you have an ouch.” When she pointed to the light swelling where Eddie had hit him, he flinched slightly. 

“Yeah, dada is dumb.”

“No.”, she giggled before pointing at Wayne. “Granpa is here. He…he’s making…bra-der happy.”

Dylan’s eyes scanned Steve carefully as he sat across from him in one of the chairs. “You alright, dad?”

“I’m fine, dude. I just missed you guys.”, he smiles. 

You come around the corner and playfully swat at Ro’s curls before tickling her neck with your finger. “You. Scoot so I can say hi to dada.”

“Mama! Stop.”, she laughs as she slides down and sticks her tongue out at you. “You’re mean!”

You laugh along with her as you climb onto Steve’s lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Are you okay?”

“No. I hurt someone I love. He should have hit me harder.”

“Baby…”, you sigh as you press your forehead to his cheek. “We’re going to talk again later after the kids go to bed especially since he’s had time to calm down and process everything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys. I know I should have—” You fingers cut him off as you place them on his lips. 

“We have eyes on us. Later, ok?”

Steve’s own orbs scan the room finding Dylan watching you both as well as Aurora before she smiles and waves in your direction.

###########

One benefit of having three parents in the house is everyone can focus on one of the kids at any given time. After coming in to check on Ro and kiss her, Eddie stayed behind to tuck her in. As you passed Dylan on the couch downstairs, you poked your head into James’s room to find Steve with a sleeping infant in his arms.

“Alright, my love.”, you exhaled as you dramatically plopped your body down next to your son. “Time for you to go upstairs and get ready for bed.” Silently, he turns off the tv and begins to stand but you tug on the back of his shirt, bringing him down into your arms. “I know you and I know your big, beautiful brain. You’re a worrier like me. You didn’t do anything wrong, ok? You know we don’t mind giving you money for something you enjoy.”

“Everything got weird after I asked.”

“And that has nothing to do with you. Believe it or not, adults have issues sometimes that don’t involve their kids.” Dylan chuckled at your sarcasm as you kissed his cheek.

“I just don’t want to be the reason you guys get divorced or something.” 

As he began to stand, you quickly yank him back again. “Baby, they aren’t Charlie. Just because Steve wasn’t here this morning doesn’t mean that we’re going to break up. The three of us have been together too long and been through too much. And…”, you sigh hating the thoughts that fill your mind as you continue. “Playing the devil’s advocate here, if for some reason we ever did break up, I assure you no matter what, that reason would never be because of you guys or anything you did.”

Dylan smiles as he hugs you before getting to his feet and pulling you up with him. As Eddie comes down the stairs, he meets him half and tugs him into a hug.

“I love you, kid.”

“I love you to.” 

The moment he hears his footsteps bang up to his room, Steve appears and softly smiles in your direction. 

“Counseling degree at work again?”

“No, that would be my mom degree. I saw it on his face when you came home. Even though he knows you guys aren’t like Charlie, I think there’s still a part of him that feels like he could lose you at if one thing goes wrong.”

“I know the feeling.”, Eddie mumbles as he shuffles his feet. “Sometimes I was afraid Wayne would give up on me to. Obviously, that never happened.”

Your hand gently rubs his back and you gesture with your head for you three to head for the bedroom. 

***

The silence was deafening as you sat on the bed near the headboard as Eddie placed himself on the edge with his chin near his chest. Steve pulled one of the chairs from the living room so he could sit in front of you both, fidgeting with his fingers as he waited for someone to speak. 

“Did he ask you for money or did you offer?”, the metalhead asked. 

“I offered. He came up with the amount.”

“Steven, what do you know about prison? In general, I mean.”

“Uh…”

“Did you know that things are snuck in all the time? Drugs, weapons, food, etc.” Steve shook his head. “Did you know he can use your money to get shit like that or give to other inmates to do that? Did you know that people could find out where he’s getting so much money from and send people to harass you for the same treatment?”

When the man shook his head again, his eyes downcast towards the floor in shame. 

“Do you know how I know that? The first time my father went in Wayne tried to help him by sending him $100 a month. A couple months later he asked for more and my uncle told him no. The next day someone broke into his trailer and stole half his shit. We learned later Allen owed some people inside money and when they found out he would be getting out soon they wanted it all upfront. When Wayne told him no, my dad told them where he had been getting the cash from so they sent people to get the rest however they could. Thankfully, he was at work that night.”

“Eddie, I…”

“You’d think prison would reform him but it doesn’t. That’s why he’s there, Steve. He does the same shit in there that he did when he was out. He cons people or steals from them and every time he always loses.”, he sighs angerly. “And that’s just one of the many reasons I’m pissed. We just had a fucking baby, Steven! $500 barely covers half of what he needs, plus Aurora and Dylan’s essentials. That’s for the kids. The three of us need things to including this house!”

You scoot closer and wrap your arms around him as you lean against his shoulder. You had never seen him like this. When he had gotten angry with his mom at Ro’s first birthday that was one thing. Right now, this was fury out of fear for you five and something that could have been avoided if—

“But I think what pisses me off the most is you didn’t fucking talk to me. I have always been up front with you when it came to your parents and especially your dad. Your dad isn’t like mine Steve. He could get someone fucking killed and I’ll be damned if it’s someone in my family. I don’t just ignore him and Lynn for me. I do it to protect you guys. It’s a simple thing and you made it way more complicated.”

A tear escaped down Steve’s cheek that he quickly wiped away as he sat up straighter and cleared his throat.

“I’m, um…I’m sorry, Eddie. You’re right. I should have talked to you, both of you. No matter what my intentions were. I—”

“Don’t do that.”, you cut him off. “Don’t do that authoritative, businessman style voice and dialogue you do because you think it’s what people want to hear.” His eyes roll as his leans forward and his leg bounces. “Be honest, Steve. Be yourself.”

“When he called you were making Aurora laugh, Ed, while Wayne was holding her. Y/N, you were eating cake out of the pan with a fork because you were pregnant and you and Dylan were leaning against each other smiling…it was perfect. A perfect fucking day without Charlie causing problems or Lynn calling to trigger his pain. My dad wasn’t appearing out of nowhere to fuck shit up or you mom to remind you that you’re still the town whore!” Steve’s beautiful brown irises looked at anything but you two as he tried to control his emotions. 

“For this one moment, everything was exactly as it should be. Then your dad called, Eddie, reminding me something was always waiting…looming in the background to fuck everything up. So, yeah, I went down there to protect us; to protect you. Motherfucker is lucky there was glass between us.”, he growled. “With Lynn and Allen, I don’t know how you turned out so fucking amazing. I can understand why you would want them out of your life for good.” Steve shrugs as he leans back again. “Since I couldn’t hit him and I couldn’t convince him, I did the only other thing I could think of.”

“Well thank God you didn’t become a businessman like your dad wanted or he would have lost a ton of money.” Their eyes meet for the first time since they entered the room as they both let a breathy chuckle. “Steve, when will you realize that you don’t have to protect us and be the hero alone?”

The baby monitor starts to light up and you hastily get up before they can to check on James. 

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

Steve got up from his chair to sit beside Eddie and wrapped his arms around him like you had. 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry I lied to you. I’m so fucking sorry, babe.”

The metalhead sighs using his fingers to lift his chin and bring his lips to his. 

“Even though I’m mad at you, I still love you. I hope you know that.”

The boy nods as he kisses his lips again before trailing them down his cheek to his shoulder. 

##############

Allen glances at the three Munson-Harrington adults, sitting on the other side of the glass before really taking in his son in front of him.

Eddie knew he’d have to go down to the prison to fix what Steve had done but you were surprised when he asked you two to join him. On the drive there, he inhaled one cigarette after the other until you reached over and stole his pack so he wouldn’t overdo it. While you waited, his eyes darted around as he occasionally babbled to block out his internal panic. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been here. The last time was when I was 10, I think. My mom brought me and I remember them arguing about him being stuck in here. She said she couldn’t handle me alone.”, he shakily laughed. “Actually, it was more ‘what am I supposed to do with him.’”

“Eddie…”  Turning his head, you kiss his lips as you caress his cheek with your thumb. “Everything is going to be ok. We’re right here with you.”

He nodded before gazing at Steve who was glaring into the void as Eddie reached to hold his hand before leaning to whisper in his ear. “Come back to me, sweetheart. I need you.”

“Well shit.”, Allen sarcastically smiled. “To what do I owe the pleasure? Your boyfriend and I already came up with an arrangement so you didn’t need to come down here.”

“Husband. Not boyfriend. Always glad to know you’re just happy to see me, Allen.”

“Allen? Really? You call Wayne daddy now?”

“More or less for the last about 18 years.” They glare at each other before Eddie snickers. “You’re not even going to pretend to be nice to win me over, are you? I have no idea why you or Lynn would ask me to lie for you if you can’t even say something civil like ‘Hey Ed. Nice to see you.’”

You intertwine your fingers with his as your heart breaks. This was probably just a taste of what little Edward Munson experienced and it killed you. 

“Look, we weren’t planning on staying for long. I just wanted to tell you the money Steve has been sending stops now and if you tell anyone that my family gave you that, I swear to God, I will make it my personal mission to make your life a living hell in here. You think things are bad now…”

You’d be lying if you didn’t say his dominance turned you on. There was nothing sexier to you than seeing them both be protective over you and the kids. Usually, it was Steve acting as protector and when he did it with Mr. Osbourne it drove you crazy. Hearing Eddie do it now was not only making you proud of him but excited to jump him later. 

“Fine but in return I want you to go the appeal for me.”

“No, that won’t be happening either and let me tell you why. If you keep calling me, sending letters, or any other bullshit like that, I will come to your appeal but it won’t be on your behalf. I’ll remind the judge that you’re a scam artist and a fucking car thief but I’ll also enlighten them on what a great father you were to me between the black eyes and verbal assaults.”

Eddie leans closer to the glass as his eyes burn into the man on the other side. 

“I am not a kid anymore. You two think you can still bully me but you’re wrong. You both need me way more than I need you.”

With that, he rises from the chair to leave before pausing and gesturing towards his father to wait with his index finger. Abruptly, he grabs Steve’s collar and tugs his lips to his for a passionate kiss. When he finally lets him go, the other man smirks, drunk off Eddie’s taste alone as the metalhead flips off his dad and turns to leave him behind. 

****

About a mile down the road from the prison, Eddie swerved his van into an empty area, hurling off his seatbelt and shoving Steve into the back where you had been sitting. You stayed out of the way, allowing the metalhead to take control. There was a sense of urgency in their kisses, both needing each other in that moment. Eddie needed to convey to him that he could take care of him to and Steve showing him that he could willing give up that urge to control for his husband to take be there for him.  

As they shoved down their pants, you slid your fingers down your own, rubbing your clit as you watched Eddie spit in his hand and stroke his cock before breaching Steve’s entrance. 

“Fuck, yes. I love you so much, baby. Let-Let me take care of you.”

All Steve could do was nod as he wrapped his arms around him and clung to him as Eddie pumped into him harder. His ring lined hand reached out into the air and it took you a moment to realize he was trying to find you. As you leaned into his touch he yanked the back of your neck, bringing your lips to his.

When he dipped his fingers into your jeans and between your legs, he couldn’t help but smile against your lips. 

“You’re so wet, princess. You like watching us together?”

Your own palm held the back of his from the outside of your pants as you rested your forehead on his. 

“I like watching you—mmm—take care of us. I love you, Eddie. I’m so proud of you.”

He heavily sighed as he thrust into you both faster. Hearing Steve loudly grunt, you two watch him as his face scrunches and he releases his spend near the bottom of his tummy. Eddie grins as you push against his hand, guiding his pace until he feels you shutter and cum on his fingers.  As you collapse next to Steve, he leans over the boy’s face as he chases his high. 

“You’re both so—f-fuck—fucking pretty when you cum.”

Watching with half lidded eyes, you softly smile as Steve reaches up to caress his face, listening as he whispers sweetly to him. 

“I love you to, honey. So fucking much. Cum, Eddie, please. We want to see it. I want to feel you fill me up. You…you deserve to…fuck…” He struggled to get the last few words out as the metalhead pumped into him so hard you imagined the van was shaking from the outside. They both grunted at the feeling as the boy came inside of him and like you collapsed on his other side.

The three of you panted as you starred at the ceiling. 

“I am sorry I put you in this position, Munson.”

“I mean… I put you in this position but you know me…I’m open to any and all positions as long as it feels good for everyone.”

They smile when you giggle as Steve shakes his head playfully. “You’re so stupid.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing. I forgive you, Harrington.” He leans up on his elbow to kiss him before dramatically leaning across him to do the same with you. “Alright, you two recharge and I’ll drive us home.”

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

#############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @strangerfreak

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

[dual1pa]

swim party

warnings: smut, no use of y/n, partying, language, underage alcohol consumption, smoking (all characters aged up to 20). 

18+ ONLY Y’ALL

enjoy

“He likes you, I swear on my own mother’s grave! He told me and Nancy the other day!,” Robin said, pouring you a cup of beer from the keg. 

You just arrived to Steve Harrington’s infamous summer break party — it was always a scene due to someone being too drunk and doing something stupid — either the cops or an ambulance is called. 

Steve promised that this party would be “different” and nothing like that would happen — but you didn’t believe him as he says that every year. 

Your best friend, Robin, was in the middle of telling you how your other best friend, Eddie Munson, is “super in love” with you. Okay sure, you yourself have feelings for the incredibly handsome fella, but you were positive he only saw you as a friend as you never really noticed any signs. 

You took a swig of your beer — which was unbelievably gross to say the least — and slammed the red solo cup on the counter when you finished it. 

You were hesitant, “I don’t know Robs.”  

“Look, just try to be a little touchy feely with him tonight. He’s around here somewhere,” Robin looked around to see if she could find him but no such luck. 

Were you really going to worth the risk of possibly making Eddie and your friendship totally awkward if he didn’t feel the same way. 

“Well, if I’m going to do that, I’m gonna need a bit more to drink.” 

“YES,” Robin exclaimed, pouring you another beer, “Go get him, girl.” 

You were happy that you listened to the little voice in your head telling you to wear shorter shorts and a t-shirt to the party. Also, you had a skimpy two piece bathing suit underneath. 

Typically, Steve’s parties die down rather quickly where it’s just your typical friend group: Steve, Robin, Nancy and Eddie are smoking and swimming in the pool. 

Once you had a few more drinks in you, you weren’t too drunk to the point of totally embarrassing yourself, but just enough to one, be aware of your surroundings and two, make a move on Eddie. 

You swerved through the many people in the living room dancing to whatever pop song was playing through the speaker. There were a few couples making out in the corners of the room and on the couch, other’s chugged their drinks and creating drunk conversations about who knows what. 

The more you thought about a possible relationship with Eddie, the more you fell in love with the idea. You trusted Eddie with your whole heart and you could totally see a future with him. 

There he was — only because you heard his voice outside. 

He was with his friends playing a round of beer pong. 

In your first attempt, you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind to surprise him. 

It was like he instantly knew it was you.

He tried his best to turn his upper body to move you to the front of him for a proper hug. 

“There’s my girl! Finally, you’ve arrived,” My girl.

He was drunk, of course as you could smell the beer scent on his breath. 

“Only for you Eddie.” 

All you wanted to do was lean up and kiss him, you were in his arms and at the perfect angle to just reach his lips — but you stopped yourself. 

“I’m almost finished with this game after I kick these guys’ asses, then I’m all yours,” he smiled. 

On the other hand, his friends booed him as it would be his last game. 

“Shut up all of you. She is more important,” he aimed the ping pong ball at one of the cups and made it in. 

“Huh, seems as if you’re my good luck charm, gotta keep you around every time I play this game - or any game really,” he laughed. 

“Aww, I’m your little good luck charm, that’s so cute,” you replied. 

“Can y’all just go have sex already? There’s so much sexual tension here I can cut it with a knife,” Eddie’s friend, Ronnie, admitted. 

“Hey, sometimes you just shouldn’t talk, K?” Eddie said in a joking voice, “Don’t listen to him,” Eddie told you. 

In your mind, you wouldn’t mind doing... anything with Eddie.

- 

The rest of the night, you did your best to be more “touchy feely” with Eddie, dancing super close to him, always touching his arm, but you weren’t sure if he was catching on. 

You felt as if you gave him many clues to just kiss you already, but he wasn’t taking the hint. Either he’s honestly not thinking about it or he just sees you as a friend. 

As the party died down, Eddie and you met your friends out by the pool. Nancy and Robin were hanging out in the water while Steve smoked a cigarette on the pool chair. 

Eddie went to grab one from him and sat down next to him, he ever rarely swam. 

You weren’t missing out on getting some pool time in. You turned around to look at him to be sure he was looking at you before you grabbed the hem of your shirt and took it off your body. Next, it was your pants. You shimmied off your shorts and dove into the water. 

It was freezing. 

You shivered as you swam over to the other side of the pool where Nancy and Robin were having a conversation. 

“Hey, how’s it going with operation ‘get Eddie to fall in love with you’?,” Robin asked. 

“Terrible,” you sighed, “Guys, I think he only wants to be friends. I have him several chances to make a move and he just... hasn’t.” 

Robin looked at Nancy, they had an idea that you were unsure of. 

“Why don’t you two have some time out here alone then? I’ll grab Steve and make Eddie stay out here with you so you know... you don’t drown or anything,” Nancy said. 

You nodded and watched them swim to the other side of the pool and hop out, grabbing Steve and heading inside. 

Eddie watched them leave, but ultimately chose to stay outside with you. 

You swam to the middle of the pool and kept your eyes on him. 

“That was so weird that they left us out here like two minutes after we just got out here,” Eddie chuckled, watching you swim around. 

You shrugged your shoulders, “Maybe they all got cold.” 

“It’s like 85 degrees out at 1am!” 

“Well if you think it’s so hot, why don’t you come in and swim with me,” you asked. 

“I’m not the type of guy to go swimming, you know that.” 

“I know it’s just... I’m kinda lonely in here.” 

“Then get out and come sit up here with me.” 

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come in?” 

An idea popped into your head, it was a bit forward, but you had nothing else left to try. 

You pulled your bathing suit top strings apart, leaving you topless in the pool and threw it at Eddie and he caught it right away. 

“Do you wanna come in now?” 

He instantly got up from the chair and threw off his shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. 

You giggled as he splashed you from the cannonball he did. He swam up to you and took you into his arms. 

You instantly wrapped your legs around his him. 

He looked down at your breasts with wide eyes. 

“Can you kiss me already?,” you asked, but begging inside your head. 

He looked at you, then at your aching lips and leaned in. 

He tasted better than you thought and he was a marvelous kisser, my God, what have you been missing? 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped along your bottom lip desperately wanting to stick it in your mouth. 

You opened it a bit more and felt his tongue exploring your mouth. 

Moments later, he detached his lips from yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since... forever.” 

“Well, god damnit, you should have done it sooner,” you laughed. 

Eddie backed you up to the wall of the pool while kissing your neck. My God, it felt so good, you knew that boy would be a good kisser. In the water, you tried your best to grind up against his groin, but it was a bit tough. 

Once you opened your eyes, you spotted your friends in the window cheering you on and making obscene gestures. You shooed them away and let out a squeal once Eddie bit down on your neck. 

You leaned your head to the left more to give him more space to attack your neck with kisses and hickeys — something you would definitely need to cover up with foundation in the morning. 

As much as you had fun humping your best friend, you were in need of more. You needed to feel him skin to skin.

“Can we take this somewhere private,” you reached for his cheeks for him to look at you. 

“I thought you’d never ask. Can’t fuck you in a pool now can I?” 

Your eyebrows widened, “I mean you could but that be kinda gross since it is King Steve’s,” you joked. 

He grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the pool. You quickly grabbed your bathing suit top and asked Eddie to tie it in the back for you. 

He wrapped a towel around his lower half so his friends wouldn’t see the aching boner he had. 

The cool air hit you as you opened the patio door. Steve, Robin and Nancy were all hanging out watching a horror movie. In unison, they all turned to you, who was sort of hiding behind Eddie. 

“Mind if we use your guest bedroom tonight?” 

“Go right ahead,” Steve said, “Just wash the sheets tomorrow!” 

You followed Eddie up the stairs, memorizing every birth mark and mole on his back. God, he was perfect. 

He opened the door to the guest room and shut it behind you. Before another thought could enter your mind, he pressed you up against the door, giving you passionate kisses on your lips. 

He wrapped his arms around your waist then moving them down to grab the flesh of your ass, patting slightly, encouraging you to jump and straddle his hips. 

He carried you over to the bed and plopped you down on the soft grey duvet. He laid down between your legs and continued his assault on your neck.

You were very vocal when it came to sex — whenever you had it — because you loved letting your partner know that what they were doing felt good. 

You ripped the beach towel he had on and shimmied his swim trunks down so his cock sprang free against your stomach. 

Instantly, you put your hand around his shaft and began teasing him but moving your hand up and down.

“Oh god, baby, yes,” he said into your neck, “Always been thinking how your hand would feel around my dick. Just as I imagined — perfect.” 

You quickly reached your hand up to spit into it to use as lubricant. Once he (and you) were ready, you moved your swim bottoms to the side and gently guided him into you. 

At first, it stung like a bitch. It’s been a while since you last hooked up with someone so you were a bit tight — didn’t seem to bother Eddie as he was a moaning mess as he brought his lips back to yours. 

He followed your moves as he continued to plunge inside you. You took it easy as Eddie had a big cock, but once he was fully in and you adjusted to his size, you begged for movement. 

He leaned on his forearm to take a good look at his cock disappearing inside you, only making him closer and closer to his climax. 

You opened your mouth to let out a moan as the two of you looked at each other while he fucked you. 

Every second, the tip of his cock hit that certain sweet spot only guiding you more and more to your own orgasm. 

“Yes, Eddie. Deeper,” you breathed, gripping tightly on his semi-wet hair. 

You moved your hands down to his bare ass to feel the movements of his thrusts. 

Each time his tip would reach your cervix, you saw stars. Oh my god it was like heaven. 

His hand snaked down your center to toy with your clit aiming to make you come before him — and it worked. 

Your legs squeezed tightly around his hips as you let the sensation of your pleasure take over your body. 

Curse words and moans left your mouth as he took himself out to unload himself over your stomach. 

Once he was finished, he collapsed on the bed next to you. Your immediate reaction was to cuddle up to his warmth, tangling your legs together. His finger traced lightly on your shoulder. 

You looked up at your best friend to his eyes already on you. He gave you a light smile as the sex tired him out. 

“Can we finally get together now?” 

“I’m all yours, babe.” 

[aconflagrationofmyown]

but then…Gigi

a future forward one shot, circa 1979

Snuggle me Tender

Trust me I laughed and cringed every bit as hard as you over that title but after the strain of pushing this mushiness out of my brain in under twelve hours I haven’t got any sensible titles left in me, ok?

Requested: Yes / No

Warnings: next to none? complete fluff and no rancidity for once, just Big Daddy Elvis with a very young baby and a very young wife and tour life and mentions of his health concerns…so much baby talk which I do not apologize for, if you’ve never done it I suggest you do, it adds years to your life. To quote Alex Turner: “I’ve been feelin’ foolish, you should try it.”

Word count: 2,884 is my version of a blurb, ok?

Notes: this is dedicated to my baby Bri whose devastating prompts lead to this whole Gigi endeavor and whose sweetness lightens up my life

Blaring horns end the set with its iconic flourish, their brassy notes echoing in his ears as he exits. It was a good show, a lively audience and Ronnie kept the rhythm together this time and even the sound system was decent for such a packed out stadium. Elvis is satisfied as he takes his final farewell of the sea of glossy, enamored faces, the frenzied send off of their ovation thudding into his veins so thickly he thinks his pulse will jump straight outta his wrists.

He flicks his writs irritably and hooks his thumbs into his belt, hoisting it just that little bit from where his exertions made it creep down and down and ever down, keeping it where it’s not pinching him as he lets the boys hustle him off the stage and into the back hallways in a well worn maneuver. The clapping and roar of the crowd is still deafening and he’s still attuned to it, vibrating like a leaf and the shake, rattle and roll of it pounds along with his chest and more worrisome still is the way his vision flickers with it, like some damn techno scene. But it’s just the fluorescents, and this interminable hallway leading to his dressing room.

And to his girls.

He takes a deep breath and tries to begin the effort of steadying himself just a little before foisting himself on them. It’s easier, so much easier, with them here, but his blood pressure still skyrockets each time he performs and it doesn’t seem like there’s a pill or a regimen out there to prevent it. It might be the death of him one day and awhile back he might have flippantly hoped so.

Now he’s got his girls to live for

and he tries his hardest to moderate himself, to temper himself in between to be the man he wants so badly to learn he is, not just the icon he’s perceived to be. Every step takes him closer to the anecdote and he breathes easier, hiking his belt higher so he can really gulp in those belly expanding breaths and he feels Charlie patting his back, his boys murmuring in an affirmative babble that it was a good show.

Elvis knows it was. He doesn’t need them to tell him. There’s only one persons opinion he gives a shit about right now and she’s probably conked out asleep or at the tit. Both of which sound like damn good options to mimic, in Elvis’ opinion.

Little Miss Erin Love Presley.

She’s become his life and between her and Gigi and Yissa he is bombarded with the insistence that he is wanted to the point that he’s gradually had to assume that, well…that he is -wanted, that is.

He’s wanted. Not just needed.

And so he allows them to fret over his pulse and he agrees to less stimulants when possible and he endeavors to be a more cheerful bastard despite the persistent urge to bite heads off most days.

Ricky jogs ahead of him, opens the door that Sam’s been standing in front of and ushers Elvis inside hurriedly before closing the door behind him, leaving him alone with his little family. Nearly blinded by the change in lighting, Elvis staggers towards where he knows there's a couch in the gloomy dressing room Gigi so considerately dimmed for his sake.

“You were magnificent, daddy!” her soft praise registers more profoundly than all the applause out there and Elvis sinks into the couch utterly spent, yet entirely satisfied.

“Thanks darlin’.” He murmurs with his head tilted back, winded and a thousand miles away but he’s trying to come back down. His hand reaches out for her hip and the give of her soft flesh tethers him to earth.

Gigi doesn’t skip a beat before she’s bending down and unclamping the large buckle from his belly single-handedly with practiced ease, delighting in the relieved groan Elvis lets out as she removes the heavy ornament. She swings it away from him only to replace it with the soft weight of their baby girl.

“I’ll get your medicines, you hold tight.” Gigi soothes, her hand lovingly pushing his hair back from off his damp forehead before she bends to kiss it and he chases her wearily for a taste of her lips which she presses to his ardently before pulling away to go find his pills.

Baby girl is perched on his belly in her tiny sequined onesie, balancing like a Pilates teacher on a ball, her wobbly little neck doing its utmost to stay straight and fix him with her appealing stare. It’s devastatingly effective when paired with her pitifully frustrated little squeaks.

Elvis knows what Lovey wants and a few months ago he might’ve been appalled at the notion of it despite being an utter sap for his daughter. It had seemed too gross to subject her to the post-show sweat and musk that cling to him in moments like these. But like her mommy, the little girl wouldn’t take less than the deepest of intimacies and so he has learned that Lovey will continue her fussing until she feels the warmth of his skin beneath her.

The tiny wrist golden chain around her wrist jangles as she tries to pull herself up the ornate expanse of his jumpsuit front, clawing determinedly up the exquisite sundial motif towards the heaving expanse of his sweaty chest. ‘Return if found’ her bracelet reads and Elvis smirks at the notion of her being put down long enough by either of her parents to be misplaced.

“Hey cuddle bug, hey how’s it goin’, hmm?” he coos to her and finds his voice is fried and gravelly.

Without having to even reach he finds Gigi pressing a plastic cup into his hand that he ravenously accepts along with blood pressure regulators she presses into his palm, small and round and white. He throws them back with exhausted gusto and his baby nearly wobbles backwards in her arc to follow his movements with her big ole baby head.

They made a pretty baby, he and Gigi, how could they not? -but even the prettiest of babies have bowling balls for heads compared to the rest of their body and it still tickles Elvis immensely. He wheezes a laugh into the last of the water while catching her head with his other hand and crushes the cup with something bordering a burp and a groan.

Lovey’s bright little eyes expand just a fraction more at the vibrations against her belly. “ ‘scuse me, miss.” he teases, eyes still wavering blearily as he tries to focus on Gigi rummaging for something at the far end of the dim room. The water makes him feel at least partially alive again and he runs his hand beneath his nose to catch the sweat and what all that is collecting atop his lip.

Heaving in a big breath he feels his hands calm their shakes enough he looks down at Lovey’s valiant attempts to reach the apex of his unzipped suit, clammy baby hands snagging the hair on his belly and tugging. He’s gonna have bald patches down there at this rate, he’s told Gigi this and she just lathers more hippy oil on him and says he’ll be alright -so he guesses he will be.

“Look at you baby, so strong, yes you is, fightin’ gravity like a champ, got yo’self halfway up the sun, yes you has. Want daddy to help ya? Hmm? Yeah? You want a kiss, don’t ya? Me too, I want kisses from my bestest girl.”

He hooks his thumbs beneath the giving flesh of Lovey’s armpits and pulls the floppy length of her higher till she’s balanced on his broad chest, in between his gaping jumpsuit front, watching as she crows and grins the minute she feels his tacky skin beneath her palms. The swell of his belly keeps her high up and her little elbows dig into his soft chest, it’s a well worn ritual to spend her “belly time” on his chest, fascinated by her daddy’s face. It holds her interest more than any gaudy toy or tv show ever could.

Elvis pats her bottom gently with his ringed hand, careful not to pinch her delicate thighs as Lovey kicks and shudders in delight at getting her way. She’s a little masochist, his baby, she drools and coos even as she grips significant portions of his chest hair and tugs in glee as if it’s her own personal shag carpeting to aid her towards scooting up that last little bit needed for her to kiss him on the chin.

“Das it, das it almost there, gonna give daddy a kissy? Gonna gimme kissies? I wan’ ‘em so bad, yes I do!” Elvis pickers his lips and she strains every ounce of her little self to grab ahold of his sideburns. It’s all over then, Lovey is triumphant in her grip, a pack of wild horses can’t tear anythin’ that baby has once she’s grabbed ahold of it. With a gurgly little crow she scoots herself up till she’s able to devour his chin.

She’s quite coordinated when preening her angelic little face up to receive a kiss but upon dishing them out she goes about it like a starved man would a set of pork ribs, open mouthed and with the goal to slobber as much as possible on the recipient. Elvis can’t bear to turn her away ever and in his after-show state of permanent dampness he doesn’t even think twice as a sloppy, gummy and fervent baby adds to the sweat rolling down his throat.

“Fank you.” he murmurs, tilting his head to facilitate her attack, “Fank you so much, ooh, I love your kisses, ya know that? Favorite kisses in the world, yes ‘dey are! Better than any of those out there, Mhmm, way better. Yes, yes better gimmer another -aww thank ya!”

Gigi watches from the side as she finishes her breast pumping by the dimmed vanity as Elvis puckers his cherub lips and pecks at their baby’s matching glossy pink pair. In this moment with their bobbing heads and tender coos and the nearly identical soft forms of them both slouching in their matching jumpsuits -they could be twins. The thought makes her smile and right in this moment there’s a belonging she feels so strongly and richly that her eyes burn with it.

“I thought it went pretty well, mhmm, what’d ya think about the new song, hmm?” he always does this, consults Lovey’s side-of-stage perspective on his show and he swears to Gigi that her feedback is essential for the success of what has been a certainly well received comeback tour. “Yeah I thought so too, ‘could tinker with those background vocals but the bass was tight. Yeah, yeah man, I know, I told ‘em, but they don’t listen, no dey don’t! I know! I know I told ‘em! Can ya believe that, Lovey? Oh well.”

With each of his heavy breaths and remonstrances Elvis’ chest heaves and sends Lovey tilting further and further up to his face till she’s careening alarmingly into the crease of his neck, wedged between it and the couch back. The tip of her tiny body makes Elvis die laughing with a fit of those genuine, hiccuping laughs that their baby loves to mimic until they both end up dry coughing from their mirthful wheezes. He gets them both situated again, Lovey firmly back on the safe expanse of his tacky chest with his hands criss crossed over her tiny back. One of his hands can span the entire width of her little ribcage and folded over each other as his hands are now, they looks like a bejeweled turtle shell sheltering their Lovey’s delicate back.

Gigi packs up her kit and rummages through her sack for Elvis’ glasses before they’re needed for the camera-flash-lit trek back to the hotel.

Lovey lets out a vigorous yawn, suddenly utterly tuckered out from watching her daddy perform and waiting up to kiss him backstage. It catches Elvis’ attention and yet again he’s amazed by the fact he feels even remotely weary himself, like he’s able to tap into his girl’s calmer systems and regulate his own just a little to match them. Not so much a family as a trinity of souls so intertwined they’ve long since lost where one ends and the other begins.

“You sleepy, hmm?” Elvis hums to her and strokes over her head soothingly, “How bout we go back to that nice hotel then, we can eat somethin’ and yer mommy’ll call up Yissa to say goodnight. How’s that sound, hmm?”

Lovey rubs her face into his chest to emphasize how much she needs this sleep plan to be enacted speedily, the tired rub backfiring as his chest hairs tickle her sensitive little nose. Without fail it makes her sneeze violently and afterwards she’ll gaze up him dazedly as if asking for explanation as to her own bodily functions.

“Hutchooo, bwess you.” he thumbs at her sloberdy chin. “Dat was a big one, wasn’t it? Mhmm, daddy’s sorry he’s so fuzzy. Don’t got that problem when ya snugglin’ wif mommy, do ya? Nu-uh, smooth as marble, that pretty girl, ain’t she? Mhmm.” he ponders Gigi’s loveliness with a dreamy look of appreciation and his baby resignedly lays her head in the sweaty thatch of chest hair, wadding it away from her face with a tiny fist, Elvis stares over her head at Gigi who he knows has been playing at being busy to let him wind down.

They share a knowing little smile and Gigi shoves off from her perch on the vanity and clip clops over to him in her strappy heels, bending at the waist and offering him a lovely view down the neck of her dress as she gently fits his tinted glasses on his face. “There, all set.” she murmurs fondly while fiddling with his hair, dabbing at the mess of sweat and drool that the now sleeping baby has left in her wake.

Ricky cracks open the heavy metal door with great care but it’s not enough care to please Elvis who barks

“Gently, for God’s sake, there’s a baby sleepin’ in here!”

and Gigi smirks as she herself gets manhandled by her new husband to sit beside his bulky manspread, for no other reason perhaps than to keep her ass pointed away from Ricky. Gigi suspects that Elvis likes to bark at his traumatized entourage just because he enjoys getting to cite the baby’s needs. He has a baby again, and it’s turned him into more of a bear than a man on this tour. That thought makes Gigi sigh dreamily and she lays her head on Elvis’ shoulder and watches as Lovey’s sleeping breaths stay even and calm despite his outburst, utterly secure in her daddy’s love.

Gigi gets her thigh patted in recognition and she shudders as always from that promising touch, feeling how torn he is between winding down or thrumming off into the astral sphere. Only once they’re in the hotel and snug in the white sheets with Yissa on the phone will she know which way the night will go.

“Car’s all set.” Jerry quietly delivers the message that Ricky fled before he could finish delivering.

“Thanks man.” Elvis nods and after exchanging a look with Gigi asks her, “Ya ready, baby girl?”

“Yes.” she nods and gives him her arm as an aid to heft himself out of his burrow in the couch, his one arm still occupied cradling Lovey to his chest.

Gigi helps him drape his coat around his shoulders, flapping around him like one of his capes, allowing him to pull it over Lovey’s face in the ensuing glare of the photographer’s flashes as they speed down the hallways and into the parking lot, hand in hand.

Lovey is used to the racket, the screams and the pounding of an audience a natural backtrack to her young life. Nevertheless, Elvis moves gingerly, stays calculated in his movements lest he jostle her as he follows Gigi into the car, scooting into his seat as methodically as possible, his exhausted thighs quivering from this last ounce of endurance demanded of them. He succeeds though, Lovey still snoozing and drooling onto his chest by the time the Limo door shuts and they’re off in a streak of light and motion against the night sky.

He can feel Gigi slip her smaller hand into his own on the seat between them, tugging until he surfaces from his trance and turns his face towards her with a relieved sigh to find her always there beside him when he needs it.

“You alright, daddy?” she checks in with him and he watches as her features, so lovingly crafted by a generous God to make her appear young enough to be his baby much less have one herself, are gently lit by the occasional street lamp glowing into their speeding haven.

“Yeah darlin.” Elvis rumbles from deep in his chest, rubbing the back of his knuckles against her soft cheek, watching as Gigi leans into his affections as eagerly as that first night they met, “Never been better. I mean it, gonna need to make this the order of business. You and Lovey waitin’ for me, end of show -I could go on forever like this.”

TAGLIST: (drop a comment below if you’d like to be tagged in all installments for this universe)

@prompted-wordsmith

@parodsal000

@ab4eva

@stylespresleyhearted

@presleyenterprise

@kendralavon7

@coolgirl462

@colahola

@lillypink

@stephthestallion

@vintageshanny

@landmermaid12

@ashtag2887

@notstefaniepresley

@butlersluvbot

@steph-speaks

@eliseinmemphis

@lookingforrainbows

@dkayfixates

@ellie-24

@memphisflash1935-1977

@marriedtopresley

@powerofelvis

@thatbanditqueen

@elvisabutler

@butlersxbirdy

@heartbrake-hotel

@fav-fanficssss

@austinbutlersbaby

@freudianslumber

@kxnnxy

@kingdomforapony

@be-my-ally

@crazymadpassionatelove

@that-hotdog

@missmaywemeetagain

@fallinlovewithurlove

@richardslady121

@lilycherries123

@18lkpeters

@xenaspace3-blog

@lil-mamas-obsessions

@father-of-2cats

[squadmuse]

ONE DAY IN OCTOBER - Part III

A MATT CASEY X HALSTEAD!OFC FIC (Charlotte Halstead Casey)

A/N: III is here, and I hope you enjoy it. It’s building up and getting good! Please R&R. Tagging @writercole because you’re amazing 💕

The view from the twenty-fifth floor was astounding; it seemed to stretch as far as Charlotte could see from where she stood in the stairwell.

Chicago was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful cities in the United States, if not the world, with magnificent buildings reaching high into the heavens and the serene tranquillity of Lake Michigan that ran alongside.

Charlotte knew she was lucky to call it home.

It was part of her—a part of her heart and her soul.

When Charlotte had finally pulled herself away from the breathtaking view, she made her way to Ronnie’s apartment.

It had been a while since she had visited him; usually, she’d come up looking for her dad when she came to visit with Matt since her dad had moved in.

The hallway on this floor was the same as the floor her dad lived on, and the soft carpet sunk slightly with each step she took towards Ronnie’s apartment at the far end to her right side.

Raising her hand to knock, Charlotte did so with a sharp tap twice. She did not want to alarm or annoy her father’s friend. When the door opened, Ronnie’s aged face appeared, and both he and Charlotte grinned pleasantly at each other.

“Charlotte, what do I owe for this surprise?” asked Ronnie as he rolled back into his wheelchair to let her into his home.

Charlotte shrugged her shoulders.

“I was just visiting my dad for lunch when I decided that we would come see you for lunch,” she replied, closing the door for her father’s friend before following him to his kitchen.

“Pat is watching the White Sox game?” asked Ronnie as he carefully pulled out a chair for Charlotte to sit in. His apartment and the furniture had been adapted for him, which Charlotte found quite lovely to allow the veteran to keep his independence.

“What do you think?” laughed Charlotte as she sat down opposite Ronnie and pulled out the lunch she had brought for them and her dad to eat.

Ronnie chuckled, shaking his head. “I thought I was bad about the Bears, but I’ve never seen anyone so obsessed with the White Sox like your old man.”

“He’d take that as a compliment,” said Charlotte with a giggle. It was true, even though she had never met anyone so passionate about the team, and she saw patients every day from all over Chicago.

As her dad had not arrived, Charlotte and Ronnie had decided to eat their lunch. Both of them were hungry.

Charlotte had only eaten some toast this morning, as it had gotten busy when she had decided to have breakfast. She was pregnant and needed to eat for her baby to get all the needed nutrients.

After she and Ronnie had finished eating, she made quick work of washing up the dishes for Ronnie and didn’t bother with the dishwasher. Charlotte enjoyed doing these sorts of chores.

Ronnie had kept her company, however, and the pair fell into an easy conversation. He had served in the United States Army back during the Gulf War and had ended up being paralysed after a bullet hit him in the spine. He had a few tales to tell despite that horrific injury that changed his whole life.

Ronnie was quite happy to have some company; usually, it was only her father, Bert, or some other guy from their poker group that he saw. Charlotte didn’t know how he had carried on, as after becoming paralysed, Ronnie had lost his wife to cancer and then his only son in Afghanistan.

She had struggled a lot for a long time after her mother had died, and whenever Matt got hurt on the job or even when Jay got shot, it brought up the trauma.

There was a sort of heartbreaking awe that she had for Ronnie and how he seemed to be so optimistic, so full of life, and so happy.

A lot of people could learn quite a lot from Ronnie Strauss, which she knew.

After watching a movie on Netflix, Charlotte could feel herself slowly nodding off on Ronnie’s couch.

It was very comfortable.

Her dad still hadn’t appeared, and she had guessed that he had fallen asleep in his armchair yet again. Pat Halstead loved falling asleep in armchairs.

She had nearly fallen asleep when she felt something soft fall on her body, and Charlotte opened one of her green eyes to see Ronnie carefully placing a knitted blanket on top of her.

“Ronnie, you didn’t have to do that,” she yawned, turning slightly so she faced him better. As her pregnancy progressed, her sleeping positions decreased.

Ronnie shook his head. “It's okay; I could see you needed a nap,” he said, a kind smile on his face. “My Lulu needed tons of naps when she was pregnant with our son, Dennis.”

“You’re right about that,” said Charlotte as she yawned again. “I think my night shift didn’t help me, however.”

Ronnie’s eyes widened with shock at her comment."Gosh, girl, go nap away!” he exclaimed with a chortle. “No wonder you’re shattered!”

Charlotte giggled and took the veteran’s advice, snuggled into the soft blanket, and closed her green eyes.

Something odd woke Charlotte from her slumber, and as her eyesight adjusted to her surroundings, it took a while for her to realise why.

At first, it didn’t seem like anything was wrong. Ronnie had fallen asleep too, the TV softly playing as he must’ve turned down the volume to wake her.

Nothing was out of place until she smelt that same scent that had wafted up to her in the stairwell earlier, and now it was unmistakable.

It was smoke, and Charlotte was sure that somewhere in the building was on fire.

Fuck.

[hooked-on-elvis]

"My Boy" (1973-1974)

Recorded on December 13, 1973 at Stax Studios, Memphis · Released on March 20, 1974 · Album: Good Times

MUSICIANS Guitar: James Burton, Johnny Christopher, Charlie Hodge. Bass: Norbert Putnam. Drums: Ronnie Tutt. Piano & Organ: David Briggs, Per-Erik Hallin. Vocals: Kathy Westmoreland, Mary (Jeannie) Greene, Mary Holladay, Susan Pilkington, Voice, J.D. Sumner & The Stamps. OVERDUBS Guitar: Dennis Linde, Alan Rush. Percussion: Rob Galbraith. Piano: Bobby Ogdin. Organ: Randy Cullers. Vocals: Ginger Holladay, Mary Holladay, Mary Cain.

RELEASES In March 1974 "My Boy" was first released on the album "Good Times", and in January 1975 the song came out as Side-A single (backed with "Thinking About You".

The master of “My Boy” was lengthened by splicing on a repeat of the last section.

"MY BOY" — LYRICS Songwriters: Bill Martin/Phil Coulter/Claude Francois/Jean-Pierre Bourtayre You're sleeping son, I know But really, this can't wait I wanted to explain Before it gets too late For your mother and me Love has finally died This is no happy home But God knows how I've tried Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy I know it's hard to understand Why did we ever start? We're more like strangers now Each acting out a part I have laughed, I have cried I've lost every game Taken all I can take But I'll stay here just the same Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Sleep on, you haven't heard a word Perhaps it's just as well Why spoil your little dreams Why put you through the hell Life is no fairy tale As one day you will know But now you're just a child I'll stay here and watch you grow Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Yeah, because you're all I have, my boy You are my life, my pride, my joy And if I stay, I stay because of you, my boy Oh, because you're all I have

--

TAKES · FROM FIRST TO MASTER

THE TAKE 2 Studio Sessions for RCA · December 13, 1973: Stax Studios, Memphis Please, read what Ernst Jorgensen says about the moment "My Boy" was being recorded, and listen to the take. -- The next night Elvis began with a song from his live repertoire, “My Boy,” which had been included in the August Las Vegas show. The song told the traumatic tale of losing a child through divorce, but Elvis wanted to be done with it fast. When Felton pushed for a third take, he exploded: “I told you to get this goddamn thing in two takes. I can’t sing it no more.” Take three was actually better; it lacked the long fade out Felton wanted, but he knew better than to ask for another, confident that he could loop it in mixing to get the effect he wanted. Excerpt: "Elvis Presley, A Life in Music: The Complete Recording Sessions" by Ernst Jorgensen. Foreword by Peter Guralnick (1998) -- So, when I first read this part of Jorgensen's book I hadn't listen to that take yet, but now that I did I don't take Elvis' comment as "he exploded", do you? If that was Elvis exploding, I have to reconsider a lot of the stories about his supposed short-tempered moments. Just saying. He sounded pretty like just casually commenting rather than snapping at Felton like the description of the moment made it look like. Still, I personally think that comment came for a reason, maybe EP was too polite - or too embarrassed - to show how affected by the lyrics of that song he was. Below is the take two alone, if you prefer to go straight to the point go to min. 3:50.

Elvis and Lisa Marie Presley at Baptist Memorial Hospital in Memphis, TN, on February, 1968. ♥

I must have been the only person in the fandom who hadn't seen this picture before. So cute! I'm meltinnnggg! Is it real? Looks edited, IDK. Anyway, what are your thoughts about Elvis' recording of My Boy? Do you think it had a meaning to him?

[mynameistocool]

YOU ARE A PROBLEM…

Summary: You were a senior in college and after dropping out for year due to stress and you inability to actually do any work you were behind while all your friends were off travelling the world and moving on with their lives you were left in Cleveland Ohio but it wasn’t all bad you did baby sit a grey haired, jet ski loving single father kids for the money or maybe it was because you just wanted to see him but who can blame you I mean look at him…

Mobius m Mobius/Fem reader

Warnings : age gap

~

You were sat waiting and waiting for, slowly looking at the clock. You really should be home doing your preps work or anything to do with studying as of right now, but when Mobius asked you to baby sit his kids, so he can go out to some funding gala, you couldn’t say no, after all it is mobius. 

You heard the click of the front door open, and you quickly stood up, making your way round to greet the grey haired man, “Hi Mr M and Mr….” You looked at the other man beside him, “Ronnie” he walked forward, grabbing your hand and shaking it. Mobius turned round, smiling at the sight in-front of him.

“Did you enjoy your gala ?” You asked, looking over the man, his grey hair tussled on his head in his brown suit and tie, “it was alright, you know, not really my thing.” He laughed, which made you smile, “oh…well Shaun and Kevin are already in bed, they fell asleep a couple of hours ago.” You gave him a fake salute, “oh really, thank you.” He chuckled, “hey, let me call in Ronnie, and I’ll drop you off home.” He opened the door, shouting over to Ronnie, who quickly made his way back inside. 

“Go jump in the car.” He nodded his head outside, and you accepted… quickly.

You sat waiting in the car, your hands clawing at your thighs as you waited for Mr M you noticed how nice his car was. It was a pretty decent car for a man who worked at a jet ski store, you think that what he did ? You weren’t too sure you spoke to him sure, but not enough to know about his life and besides, he never really mentioned himself. It was always you always asked how your studies were, how your mom was doing and your dog… 

You snapped out of your daydream when you saw Mobius heading to his car. He raised his hand, bidding a small goodbye to Ronnie while twirling his keys between his long slender fingers, your eyes scanned up his body the way his fitted shirt hugged his chest and stomach. He was so…

“Hey, you got everything ?” He quickly smiled, sliding into the driver seat. “Yeah yeah.” You answered back with a sweet smile, “ohh, just you were staring at the house.” He chuckled, staring up at the car, “just spacing out.” You gave him a nervous laugh. 

“So what, how’s college ?” You were in fourth year at college and, to be fair, you dropped out for a year, so you were currently twenty threes years of age just doing a bit of baby sitting on the side for “the money”.

“It’s good, got plenty of work to do as you know,” you replied, staring out the window, trying not to look at him. “Hmm I would say yes, but I haven’t been to college in a while” he laughed once more, his deep and contagious laugh. 

“How’s your mom, she good ?” He asked, trying to fill the silence, “yeah, she’s good. She is doing a bit better, got over that awful shitty cold, and now she’s back at work.” You answered his repeated questions, your attention on the way his hands clasped the steering while the over rested on his thigh, rubbing it slowly, a nervous habit of his which had your cheeks flushing. 

“Good, I saw her a couple of weeks ago at the store. She didn’t look too well and when you said about her, I just well I wanted to know how she was doing” he gave you a small shrug “why ? Do you want to date her ?” It came out your mouth quickly with a sort of jealous tone behind it, you couldn’t even register what you said before mobius looked at you, his eyes squinting at your blushing face, a small smirk on his plump rosy lips. 

“What ? No” he turned his attention back to the road, “I was just asking… are you feeling okay ?” He took another glance at you, “I’m fine Sir” sir ? Sir ? Where did that come from ? 

“Sir” he laughed, “I know I’m old but damm you’re making me feel senile.” he gave you a smile, and you just ignored it and then the silence came, and it was painful, so painful your hands began to fiddle with the radio Mobius took a quick look down to you delicate hands trying to turn the knobs before looking back up.

“It’s the second one.” He spoke in a quite demanding tone and you done what he said and just thanked him. Just as you sat there, the music began to play. It was “I’m not in love” by 10cc. The small music at the beginning filled the silence, but oh was this the wrong song for this moment, it’s like the god wanted to smite you.

“I’m not in love, so don’t forget it …. A silly phase I’m going through” Mobius started to slowly sing the tune. He smooth voice made you laugh. He continues the word adding a flare to each line “so if call you, don’t make a fuss don’t tell your friends about the two of us” he sang, and the slow music came back in.

 “Come on you have to do the next part I need a woman’s touch to this duet…” he nudged your arm with his spare hand “no way” you laughed “come on quick it's coming on” he looked at you then back to the road “you have to quick” he spoke again and there came the part “be quite big boys don’t cry, big boys don’t cry, big boys don’t cry” you couldn’t finish the rest as you burst out laugh ring from the stupid whisper you done while singing the part.

The act stopped as you pulled to your house. All the lights turned off, rather your mom was on shift or asleep. You took one look at your house and then at mobius, who eyes were already on you. “Thank you, Mr M” you smiled, “no, no, thank you for having my spawns of Satan for the night, so I could attend some fucking shitty funding gala for rich people.” You never heard him swear before, and the sound of it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“It okay anytime” you laughed at his response and your cheek flushed once more, “Are you sure you’re feeling okay ?” He lifted his hand, resting his palm on your head then moving it to your cheek, “you look a little flushed” he observed, making your face redden more. “I-I’m fine, I promise” you took his hand from your cheeks with your own and placed his own hand back on his thigh “okay” was all he said, but he still stared at you. 

“Urmmm thanks again for the ride, I appreciate it.” You got out of the car, shutting the door before heading into your house, waving him goodbye. He waved back and even after you had gone in, mobius sat there for a moment, his hand still resting on his thigh. Even on the ride home, his hand stayed there. It felt like you were still there and no matter how hard he rubbed his thigh, your touch stayed, your warm delicate hands stayed.

~

[cup1dt3a]

Hi <3 I love your writing is it ok if I request a single parent reader who is going through a lot (partner cheated and wants nothing to do with read or the kid and left you both practically homeless) who has a mute child who almost never speaks and is very much a loner reader of course feels guilty until a family member gives them an old TV and the child starts to change once they discover welcome home like they become more outspoken and more outgoing but ome day reader comes home crying after they ran in to there Ex and Wally comforts reader and reader wishes Wally was real and what happens next is up to you

The drama, the angst, the tears! I love the idea I swear everyone in my inbox has such amazing ideas it’s hard to believe most of you aren’t writers yourselves! But anyways hope I lived up to your standards with what I wrote! Also I hope your doing well or that if your not it starts to get better! ❤️‍🩹

⚠️⚠️Warning: there will be mild descriptions of panic attacks and bad financial situations⚠️⚠️

For months it’s been like this a constant struggling battle between you and just being able to have financial stability. Every time you even go to the grocery store you see how your sons eyes brighten at something he really likes , but you can’t get it. You need the money. It makes you almost feel selfish to deny him due to him rarely ever expressing any interest in anything anymore. Even when he sometimes talks it’s always a quiet mumble he refuses to repeat always hiding behind your taller figure. He was very sweet just very unwilling to talk most the time. The loudest he is was whenever he wants your attention or just you in general. You feel as if you never spend anymore time with him. You have been having to work three jobs. Always just bearly making it on time to each of them. You thankfully had a family member always willing to babysit him. It still makes you feel guilty you’ve only ever had one day off which was every Sunday. You would get only one day to be with your own child.

How did you end up like this? Oh, wait it was because of that scumbag you let into your life. Hell you even trusted him with your own life but after 4 years of being together and even having your child that’s when he started to show his true colors. He had started coming home constantly intoxicated. You hated it he first started with yelling at you but when it came to your child that’s where you drew the line. He was only 5 he shouldn’t be yelled at because some bastard couldn’t control himself. And even after all that the moment you were about to get rid of him the next thing you knew he had gotten with someone else and completely disappeared from your lives. Greedy bastard even took all your savings for bills, your half of the bank account, and even anything that could give you a lick of keeping you on your feet.

You clenched your teeth together tightening your jaw as you remembered the horrible things that happened. Almost crumbling up the bills you were doing at the moment just trying to calm yourself down. You were so brought out of your thoughts from a single little tug on your shoulder. It was Ronnie obviously wanting attention from you since it was a day you were actually home. Chuckling you picked him up sitting him into your lap.

“ Whatcha doin Ronnie?” You asked as he played with your hair.

He just looked up at you with a smile as he played with the tips of your bangs making you laugh.

“Oh, you’re so sweet.” You told him as he nodded now grabbing at your hand just to hold it.

This is what you needed a nice and very little distraction. Just you and Ronnie along with the pesky bills you wanted to tear apart. But besides that it was very peaceful at this moment for once in a while. Even as bad as your living situation was at least he was here.

“ What do you mean I haven’t…please Sir I promise there must have been some mistake with the bank!” You pleaded.

“ Fine, but this will be the last time the next time I will have you evicted. Listen I’m sorry about your situation I sympathize with you very much, but you need to give me your next rent or I’ll have you out.” He sighed.

You enthusiastically thanked him almost crying.

“ Hey so I got Ron your old TV hope you don’t mind xoxo Mom.” Is what the note read onto the small TV now in your living room. Right after you bid and thanked her you saw it in your small apartment.

“ Oh why that mother-“ “ Tv!” Ronnie pointed startling you.

“ Good job Ronnie that is a TV! Do you want to watch on it?” You asked him wondering why the Tv was getting him to talk.

He must be excited about some show to get him this happy over the addictive screen. As you looked through the cassette tapes remembering the good times you had with all these all except for one. The exact one that had also caught Ronnie’s eyes was the unfamiliar tape. Must have been some new tape she had gotten for him somehow. Looking at the label while he jumped up and down chanting its name “ Welcome Home”. It was odd to hear him talking so much but it still made you smile knowing whatever this was made him happy. The thankfully labeled tape was easily found seeing it was already at the top of all the other old tapes of yours. You looked over to him making grabby hand at it trying to signal he wanted to put it in himself which you caught into quickly from his enthusiasm.

As you gave him the tape he took it eagerly somehow not jerking it out of your hands from how excited he was. He treated it with care as he carefully put it into the old TV’s little opening. Curling up into his knees as he sat down hugging them beside you.

The TV then displayed a horrible static screen and loud noise as it soon cut to the colorful show. Contrasting to the harshness of the first few seconds of the tape. Must have been very old that some of the tape burned out. You couldn’t help but wonder what the out print of what looked like a face was though as the colorful show displayed the shows joyful intro. While you still had no memory of the show he seemed to be enjoying himself very much as it continued on. Happily tapping his small feet on the floor looking up at you for approval of his interests.

“ So is Wally your favorite?” You asked him as he nodded enthusiastically at your question too caught up in the show to reply.

Looking up at the clock you had noticed you had still needed to get some stuff done due to it getting latter by the second. Looking over towards them you patted their head ruffling their hair as you got up.

“ Five more minutes and then it’s off to bed with you deal?” You asked as he once again nodded but without any enthusiasm.

Finally going to get some laundry out of the dryer from down stairs in the apartment. It sucked always having to go out to get the laundry, but you had to get it before someone tried to steal it like last time. You literally had to ask your parents for clothes it was horrible. But anyways you hurriedly got all of your clothes bringing them back to the small room you called your home. Looking at the run down place you had to live in. Just taking everything in sadly, but trying to stay positive all you needed was a few more raises and you’ll be out of here. And could afford a better TV for Ronnie.

As you went over to put him to bed the TV was already off. With Ronnie no where to be found in the open. Until you saw your bedrooms light on you knew he was already on in bed. Going in there you saw he was even ready in his PJ’s.

“ Well you’re in bed early.” You chuckled.

“ Wally said my five minutes were up.”he muttered fiddling with the tin blankets you had.

Well that’s nice of him?

Stretching out in your makeshift bed waking up early for your first shift in the morning. The reason why it was makeshift was due to it being a board you put quilts on top of. Ron always got the most blankets on the bed due to him freezing the easiest at night. Even as hot as it was in your apartment at night that’s when it finally started to get cold. So cold that you wondered if was winter. You quickly got ready as usual. Rushing out the room quietly not wanting to wake him just yet. You left waking Ron up to whoever came to babysit him. Which today was your siblings. Giving them the keys to the door as you opened it to welcome them in as much as you could with the atmosphere screaming danger. But all of you were somehow used to it especially you.

As you walked to work with your trusty old umbrella a familiar face was seen dashing by the huge puddle almost splashing you with the dirt filled water. Thankfully, you somehow managed to avoid it as you coward behind your umbrella. You hated this part of town. But thankfully this time as you started to pick up your pace no one followed you again.

You flopped yourself onto the squeaky couch kicking your shoes off your aching feet as you bud your sibling a goodbye. While Ron sat on the floor with one of his knees up to his chest watching his favorite show. But this time as he watched it he had seemed a lot more chatty today. Continuously answering any questions or whatever Wally asked of him. Happily pointing out anything he liked without mumbling that much. Everything but just an adorable little stutter. Even starting a conversation with you at some point while you cuddled upon the couch listening to him.

“ I wanna have hair as long as…as Wally’s some day an..and have it blue!” He told you as he rested his head onto the cushions of the couch.

“ That sounds nice dear…you know I think green hair would suit you better.” You teased knowing he hated the color.

“N..no! That’s not a good color! That a puke color!” He exclaimed with a pout.

“So does Howdy look like puke then?” You once again teased no noticing the TV’s absence in the characters joyful banter; even the eyes that contently watched the two of you.

“ Howdy.. He…he makes green look good bu..but green is still a gross col..color! Along with yellow and don’t say ‘Well Julie has yellow hair’ she’s blonde!” He pouted as you chuckled ruffling his hair agreeing with his little banter.

Today is good everything is going well.

Today isn’t going that well it as well as you hoped. You had woken up 12 minutes late today, people in the alleyways kept offering you a ‘good time’ or drugs, one man even tried to follow you, you had left your medications at home, and your second shift had many crude customers there. All being horrible to each other and you. It wasn’t until your third shift things went downhill. Seeing that your ex and their new lover was at the last place you works at. Both were constantly poking fun at you. Acting like children and purposely making a whole ruckus. You didn’t care at the moment to be honest. Well not until the finale hours of your shift.

“ I can’t believe ___ cheated on you what a bitch. I mean come on they aren’t even that good looking.” Their lover muttered as you turned your back.

Just a few more minutes and it’ll all be over.

“ Oh and I bet that kid wasn’t even yours. Plus who would even want a brat like that…what was his name Robby…Rolly or some shit?” They questioned as you bit your tongue going back over to their table for their drinks.

“ Here are your drinks and Please stop talking about someone you don’t even fucking know.” You wished you said.

Just as you left to go to the kitchen before you could even turn your back a sudden sticky liquid was splashed and poured all over you and your uniform. You clenched your fists as tears were trying to pour down while the two laughed. Everyone was staring at you, everyone was whispering about you, you hated it. All the muttering, all the noise, their laughter. You hated it all even as your chest tried to tighten.

“ Ha! That’s what a cheating bitch like you gets!” They cackled while you stormed off into the back.

“ Woah hey are you-.” “ I’m fine just..I need to leave.” You wheezed as your chest kept tightening.

You just wanted out of here. You didn’t want any part in their bs anymore. You wish you said something, but right now you just couldn’t stand being here anymore. You hated them so much.

Thankfully your boss saw the whole commotion and let you leave early. But as you got to your broken down house you couldn’t stand anything anymore. You hated it here. You hated how everything looked. You hated the neighborhood. You hated what you had to do just to get money. You hated them so much. How and why in hell would they twist the story around as if you were the bad guy. You were left and had everything except your child taken from you. You just sat on the couch with your head down trying not to have a panic attack while your racing heart and tightening chest disagreed. Your hitched breathes are what almost sent you over the edge as you tried to breathe normally even holding your breath as you huddled into your self. Constantly stretching out the collar of your shirt from how hard breathing even was. As you we’re slowly starting to hyperventilate you failed to notice the unplugged TV and how it’s eyes where shaking as they watched you.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

As tears started spilling the phone suddenly rang out startling you even more while you tried to dry it up. Your boss had mentioned calling you earlier so you guess they closed early? But as you still sobbed sniffling while your shaking hands seized to stop.

You out of habit grabbed the old phone since it was right next to you.

“ Hello! Hello? Neighbor hey sorry I’m sorry to bother, but I just happed to hear you crying ing.” The oddly familiar voice concerned over you.

“ Oh…I’m sorry if I’m being loud.” You wheezed out finally getting some control of your heart while your chest still tightened.

“ Oh no! I’m not upset about that I’m just Neighbor worried are you okay?” He questioned you.

“ Yes..?” You said half heartedly trying to sniffle quietly.

“ It’s ok if you’re feeling down Neighbor we all do!” He said trying to comfort you.

For most of the phone call he kept reassuring you that your feelings were valid. Eventually as you both chatted the stranger had seemed somehow very oddly comforting. You chuckled at some of his odd comments.

“ In all honesty___ you seem like a wonderful person. So what had made you cry if you don’t mind me asking?” He questioned.

…

“ You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Your comfort I my top priority here.” He reassured you as you chuckled.

“ Thanks you…but why are you being so nice to me? Im grateful for it very much so! But Im just some total stranger who lives in the same apartment as you. I would probably be the least of your worries.” You told him.

“Well you’re much more than just some person I “share an apartment with”. You’re hardworking, an amazing parent, and even just so kind.” He listed as you smiled holding the phone line closer to your ears.

“ I think you’re too kind ‘Neighbor’ but I forgot to ask what’s your name?” You asked him.

“ My names Wally.”

Hope you all enjoyed and are having a wonderful day or that it gets better!

Again very sorry to those who have requested and haven’t had their requests done yet! I’m working on them I swear.

Sincerely-Cup1dT3a 💌

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 25 - Gareth

Summary: Gareth takes a stand.

Word Count: 996

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Origins, Teen angst, Growing Up, FOI references (Ronnie) but also some non-compliance to FOI (just...gonna skip the painful bits)

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

No one ever doubted how much the Emersons loved their son.

Especially not Gareth himself.

Their house was practically a shrine to him.

Shit, his parents' lives were dedicated to him.

They were well-off enough that his mom stayed home to take care of him until he started school, and then only worked part-time so she wouldn't get bored.

Meanwhile his dad made sure that he was at every activity and chaperoned every field trip.

There were pictures of him on almost every available wall of the house. Ones from tee ball and cub scouts and kindergarten graduation and the first time his dad took him fishing.

They all showed a happy kid.

Of course, there were also ones where he wasn't happy. Those got tucked into albums.

Ones of him crying or throwing a tantrum.

But there was one particular picture of him at 13, looking incredibly pouty. He had a study date with his crush, Libby Nelson, and his dad had brought a camera to proudly snap a picture of them together.

He was embarrassed enough when his mom ran a comb through his hair a hundred times, and when his dad ironed his shirt for him, and when they asked if he wanted to get flowers.

"We're just working on geography homework," he whined.

But after the picture fiasco, after Libby had laughed at him and he had blamed his parents, he decided enough was enough.

He started picking his own outfits to school to wear to school. The other kids picked on him, but he never felt more at ease in his skin.

Then he started listening to the metal station on the radio, despite his mom's complaining that it was all noise. Those lyrics meant something to him.

Eventually he figured he didn't want to do piano lessons anymore, something his mom had enrolled him in.

"But you play so beautifully," she protested. "You've got a gift for music."

"Yeah well," he sniffed, "maybe I want to play the drums now."

He never thought they'd actually get him a drum set.

His parents thought it was just a phase. Rebellious teen years and all; they'd had their own experience with it. But their parents had been too hard on them. They decided to be different with Gareth. Supportive.

They got him the drums, let him set it up in the garage, put up with the endless hours of migraine-inducing drumming, and apologized to every neighbor that complained.

They played it by ear and watched as their son continued to become someone unfamiliar....until eventually that angry noise in the garage turned more controlled.

He'd play along to the radio, mimicking it.

Sang along with his favorite bands until his voice cracked and he cried.

"He's gotta find himself," Mr. Emerson told his wife, who wanted to step out into the garage to console Gareth. "It'll be ok."

It got better when he moved on to Hawkins High.

He made friends with a sophomore named Jeff. They had similar taste in music and jokes, and if it wasn't their class schedules, they'd be inseparable.

Through Jeff, Gareth met and developed maybe...definitely not...sort of a crush on a senior named Veronica Emerson Ecker. Ronnie.

She'd been nice enough, always remembered his name after Jeff introduced them, and apparently played the drums too.

Gareth was head over heels.

"We practice over at this guy Dougie's house," Jeff explained. "If you wanna come watch us practice sometime?"

"I don't think my mom would like that," Gareth dismissed disappointedly. "She doesn't like me listening to metal. I don't think she'd let me go see a band play."

Jeff hummed and then offered another option.

"Hellfire Club?" Mrs. Emerson screeched when she picked Gareth up and saw him wearing the handmade shirt with a demonic face front and center. "I thought you were joining Chess club!"

"I might have lied to you," he muttered.

The first meeting he'd attended had been a disaster--everyone at school knew who Eddie Munson was, but meeting him had been a different story--and he damn near quit.

But he didn't.

It had been fun enough and Eddie hadn't been so bad. He encouraged Gareth to give it another shot which Gareth was grateful for.

He was determined to go back next week.

If his parents let him.

He got a lecture the whole drive home, and then again once his dad got home from work.

"It's like we don't even know you anymore Gareth!" his mother sobbed at the very end.

"Maybe you don't!" He shouted. "I'm not your little guy anymore! I'm 15! I'm all grown up now."

His parents laughed but he kept going.

"I don't fit in with the other kids and I don't want to. I like metal and playing the drums and I like Dungeons and Dragons. The kids in Hellfire are really cool. Dougie...well he's kind of a jerk but he gave me a copy of The Hobbit. It's the best. A-and my friend Jeff is there and he plays in a band too.

"I think maybe that would be cool," he finished sheepishly. "Playing in a band someday."

His shoulders heaved and he watched his parents with desperate eyes, hoping they'd understand.

They had to.

His mom leaned over and whispered in his dad's ear, who simply nodded.

"Growing up is tough," Mr. Emerson said softly. "We're always gonna worry about you; we just want you to be happy, pal. So if you want to be a part of this club, we're not gonna stop you."

All three of them let out a breath of relief, and then his parents were on their feet to embrace him. His dad clapped a hand on his shoulder and his mom suffocated him with a hug.

He was about to go to the garage to play, when his mom held him at arms length and asked, "are you really sure about this Hellfire Club thing?"

"Mom!"

"Ok! Just checking!"

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

From Hell to Home To Back Again

Summary: At the talent show, Chrissy Cunningham is so hungry that she nearly collapses. When she's found by Hopper, her parents ended up losing custody of her. She ends up being placed in the care of the Hendersons, and she finally finds the family she so desperately needed. She also ends up falling in love. What other changes are made in this alternate universe?

@emen-98 @1lostsoul0fishbowl

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chrissy was putting her books in her locker, humming a Bob Dylan song under her breath as she did so. She slammed her locker close, jumping when she saw Eddie leaning against the other side of her locker. She glared at him.

"Hey, Witch," Eddie grinned.

"Hey, Freak," she said and slapped his shoulder. "You scared me."

"Sorry. . .so, you're a fan of Bob Dylan?" Eddie asked.

"Who isn't?" Chrissy asked with a grin.

"Hmm, my mom was a fan. . . not as much as she was of Muddy Waters, though," Eddie said and paused. "I still have some of her records. Hey! I got a good idea!"

"What?" Chrissy asked.

"You want to come over this evening and listen to them?" Eddie asked.

"Um. . .yeah, I would love that!" Chrissy exclaimed with excitement, her eyes lighting up, and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

Eddie grinned bashfully at her, pulling a lock of hair in front of his face to hide behind it. They stared at each other for a moment before Eddie cleared his throat and dropped his hair.

"So, how was your Christmas break?" Eddie asked.

"It was good. Quiet meal with my mom, my brother, and the Byers'," Chrissy said.

"The Byers'?" Eddie asked.

"Oh, yeah, Will wanted to have Christmas dinner with us, but I honestly think he wanted to escape his mother's cooking. There's a lot of things that Joyce Byers can do, but cooking is not one of them. Luckily, for them, Dusty and I love to cook together," Chrissy grinned. "Plus, I think Will wanted to spend some more drawing time together."

"You draw?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I'll bring by my sketchbook and show you," Chrissy said. "You're going to have to tell me where you live."

"Or I could drive you after school," Eddie said. "If you don't mind."

"You're lucky I have my sketchbook in my bag," Chrissy said. "See you after school."

Chrissy couldn't stop grinning for the rest of the day. She grinned all the way to lunch, plopping down at the table with a wistful smile on her face.

"You look like you have a hanger in your mouth, Henderson," Steve said.

"You do. What's got you so happy? Did you do something slutty?" Robin asked.

"I'm going over to Eddie's house to listen to records after school," Chrissy replied.

"Oh, so you're going to do something slutty," Robin said.

"Not necessarily, Robin," Nancy said, but she was grinning.

"You guys are taking something completely innocent and turning it into something dirty," Chrissy laughed.

"Doesn't sound so innocent to me," Jonathan said. "Are his parents going to be there?"

"His dad and no," Chrissy frowned. "I doubt we're going to do anything, and just because I like him doesn't mean that he likes me back."

"He'd be crazy not too," Steve scoffed.

Chrissy scooped some peas into her spoon and held it up threateningly.

"Enough, anyone who says anything else about it gets the peas," Chrissy said.

"Well, I'm terrified," Steve said sarcastically, and Nancy laughed.

Chrissy couldn't help but let her thoughts get the best of her as the rest of the day moved at a snail's pace. Finally, the end of the came around, she waved at Steve and Nancy as she walked towards Eddie's van. She found him walking towards it with a long-legged girl wearing a baseball cap. She looked like she could be his sister. That must be Ronnie, his best friend since he was eight or so Eddie had told her. She bounced over to them.

"Hi!" Chrissy exclaimed, startling Eddie.

"Jesus! Are you getting me back for this morning?" Eddie asked, putting his hand to his chest.

"Yeah," Chrissy replied.

"Don't be such a witch, Henderson," Eddie said teasingly.

"Don't be such a freak, Munson," Chrissy replied.

"You must be Chrissy," the other girl said.

"You must be Ronnie, Eddie's told me so much about you," she said, as she reached out to shake her head.

"And Eddie simply won't shut up about you," Ronnie said. "Even told us all about how you have a little brother who plays D&D whom you simply adore."

"Shut up, Ecker! Speaking of your little brother, is he getting a ride from someone?" Eddie asked.

"He usually rides his bike home with his party, but he's being driven home by Jonathan Byers today," Chrissy shrugged. "You haven't even met him yet, and you're very concerned about his well-being."

"Well, he's a future member of Hellfire," Eddie grinned. "Can't let potential like that get away."

"Hopefully, Hellfire will still be there by the time he gets to high school," Ronnie said. "Bet Higgins is going to get rid of it once you graduate."

"God, I hate that guy. He always calls me Miss Cunningham," Chrissy rolled her eyes.

"Why?" Ronnie asked.

"It was my name before I got adopted," Chrissy said. "It doesn't matter how many times I correct him, he still does it."

"What an asshole," Ronnie said.

"I hope you don't mind, but I promised Ronnie here a ride back home," Eddie said.

"No. I don't mind, I can ride in the back. . .unless you changed your mind about me coming over," Chrissy said.

"Never!" Eddie grinned.

"You're more than welcome to sit up front with Eddie," Ronnie said, smiling knowingly.

"No, I'm good," Chrissy grinned. "Seriously."

Ronnie punched Eddie in the arm, laughing at him, before climbing into the front seat. Eddie opened the back door for Chrissy, bowing.

"Milady, you're horribly drawn carriage awaits," Eddie said.

Chrissy giggled and climbed into the back, settling in on the floor. She leaned against the back of Eddie's chair to look at Ronnie.

"So, you got any embarrassing stories about Eddie to tell me about?" Chrissy asked.

"No!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Oh, I got tons!" Ronnie exclaimed Eddie drove off.

"Nope! No! No way!" He yelled.

"Shortly, after we met, there was this caterpillar that Eddie had befriended, but of course, in his haste to tell me his story, he stumbled and fell upon his dear old caterpillar. . .of course, killing the poor thing. Distraught, Eddie had to throw the caterpillar - ,"

"Well, if you're going to tell the story, Veronica, then you should at least tell her the name of my fallen friend. Ah, good, Ser Lawrence - a dear and sweet friend -"

"Anyway, Eddie had to throw Ser Lawrence a funeral. He made me attend, as well as his uncle," Ronnie said.

"Aww, that's not embarrassing. That's so sweet," Chrissy said.

Suddenly, they heard the sound of police sirens, and Eddie sighed before pulling off to the side. Ronnie scowled when a police officer tapped on the window. Eddie quickly rolled down it and put on a forced grin.

"Officer Moore, always a pleasure," Eddie said sarcastically.

"I thought that was you, Munson. Going awfully fast there," Officer said. "The roads are dangerous this time of year. . . Icey. Anything could happen. Wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."

"Well, yeah, I know that considering I have snow tires on, and I wasn't speeding at all," Eddie said dryly.

"Well, you can't be too careful," Officer Moore said. "You haven't been drinking today, have you?"

"Considering I came from school, no," Eddie sighed.

"If I search the car, am I going to find any illicit substances?" He asked.

"You never do," Eddie replied.

Chrissy popped her head in between the seats.

"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" Chrissy said cheerfully.

"Just making sure Junior over here isn't speeding," Officer Moore said.

"Well, allow me to introduce myself," Chrissy said as she wrapped her arms around Eddie from behind, her hands on his chest. "I'm Chrissy Henderson."

"There's a picture of you with other kids on Chief Hopper's desk," Officer Moore realized.

"Oh, well, that's because Hop's practically my uncle," she said with a grin. "And he would just love to hear about his cops doing their duty. Especially hearing about how they're not making any illegal stops and searches. He so loves hearing all about his cops doing exactly what they're supposed to be doing. He hates having to fire people for incompetence."

"No, I suppose he wouldn't enjoy it," Officer Moore muttered.

"And he'd want you to know that if anyone has a problem with my dear friend Eddie, that he would definitely want to know about it. I would hate to have to tell him about that," Chrissy said. "Gosh, I hope I don't have to do that. He hates when his precious niece gets upset."

"Have a nice day," Officer Moore said and walked away.

They waited until they drove off before they turned to Chrissy. Eddie hugged her tightly.

"Holy shit! That was awesome!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Yeah, I definitely like you," Ronnie said.

"It was no big deal. Seriously though, if any cop bothers you, I'll make sure Hop knows, and he can fire their asses," Chrissy said. "He hates when cops do shit like that."

"I highly doubt that idiot is going to come back after that speech," Eddie said. "I feel like I owe you something. Oh, I could cook for you!"

"Eddie, she deserves to be thanked not to be killed," Ronnie said.

"Oh, ha, ha, Ecker," Eddie rolled his eyes. "I just never bothered to learn to cook. Surely, it can't be that hard."

"It's basically like making a potion sometimes," Chrissy said.

"I never thought about it like that before," Eddie gasped.

"Well, once you drop Ronnie off, maybe we can go to the store, and I can pick some easy starter meals for you to make," Chrissy said. "I can teach you how to cook."

"Good luck with that," Ronnie chuckled.

After dropping off Ronnie, Eddie drove them to the grocery store. Of course, shopping with Eddie wasn't easy. She lost him on multiple occasions, and when they finally did get the things she needed to help him make vegetable soup, he ended up revealing that he had nothing to make it in. The next stop was Melvald's. Chrissy wasn't too surprised to find Hopper in there chatting to Joyce.

"Hiya, Hop, Joyce!" Chrissy greeted with a grin.

"Hey, Chrissy, didn't know you were friends with Junior," Hopper said.

Chrissy looked over at Eddie and she could tell that he didn't care for that nickname.

"I'm not friends with Junior. I am, however, friends with Eddie," Chrissy said.

"What are you up to?" Hopper asked.

"I'm teaching Eddie how to cook," She said brightly and looked at him with mirth in her eyes. "What are you up to, Chief?"

"I stopped by to pick up something," Hopper said.

"I'm sure," Chrissy said with a knowing grin.

"Oh, I think you lost your friend," Joyce said.

"Every time!" Chrissy exclaimed, and then she saw him perusing the aisles.

"How was your first day back from break?" Joyce asked.

"Really good," Chrissy grinned.

"I'm sure it was," Joyce said with a knowing grin of her own.

"I better make sure Eddie's okay," Chrissy said, blushing and pausing. "You should probably keep an eye on one of your officers. Officer Moore."

"What did he do?" Hopper scowled.

"I don't think Eddie wants to make an official complaint or make a big deal out of it. He did stop Eddie without provocation. He wasn't speeding at all, and he kind of threatened to search his vehicle for drugs. It doesn't seem like this was the first time either," Chrissy said. "He seems to have it out for Eddie. I wasn't sure but I thought you ought to know."

"Yeah, I'll look into it. I know Moore has bad blood with Al Munson, but I didn't think he'd go after his kid," Hopper said.

"You don't think he'd make it even more difficult for Eddie because I told you, will he?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"I will make sure he won't, but in the meantime, maybe you should be riding with Eddie after school and tell me if he does it again," Hopper said, thinking out loud. "Meanwhile, I'll make sure Powell rides with Moore."

"Did you just give me permission to ride with a boy, Hopper?" Chrissy asked teasingly and Joyce laughed.

"No, that is not what I did. You know what, never mind, I shouldn't have asked you do that anyway," Hopper scowled.

"Really, I don't mind," Chrissy said and skipped away. "Me alone. . .in the back of his van. . .anything could happen, Uncle Hop!"

"Chrissy!"

"Didn't you need to pick up something?!" She asked, and she could hear growling followed by the sound of Joyce laughing.

Chrissy knew that as much as he wanted to, he wouldn't do the same thing that Moore was doing, but he was thinking about it. She found Eddie at the back of the store, looking at the kitchen supplies.

"You need to stop wondering off," she said in amusement.

"I figured I would let you catch up with your uncle," Eddie shrugged. "Is that his wife?"

"Practically. She would be if Hopper ever got his head out of his ass," Chrissy said. "Before he knows it, someone else is going to see how great Joyce is."

"Hmm, maybe he's just scared to lose her," Eddie mumbled.

"There's a chance of that happening no matter the situation," Chrissy said. "Why shouldn't he make the most of it while he can?"

"He definitely should," Eddie said with a grin.

Gathering the supplies he needed and a few extra things, Chrissy left with Eddie back to his house. It was a decent looking house, smaller than her own, but it was nice.

"It's a piece of shit," Eddie laughed when Chrissy told him that. "You don't really mean that, do you?"

"Of course, I mean it," she laughed as she set the stuff on his kitchen counter.

"I hope your mom doesn't mind that you spent some of your money on this," Eddie blushed.

"It was my idea, I was happy to help. Besides, not all of it was my allowance. Some of it was when I worked at Benny's Diner," Chrissy said.

"Shit, you did work there. You didn't see. . .?" Eddie trailed off.

"I was supposed to work that evening, and when I arrived, the cops were already there. . . And I saw his body," Chrissy said sadly.

"I'm sorry, I'm guessing you knew him well," Eddie said. "I mean, I knew him too. Sort of. He was a good guy, funny, and generous too."

"Yeah, he was, and yeah, I did. He was amazing, and when I told him I wanted to save up to buy my own car, he was the first one to give me a job," Chrissy said and went quiet for a moment. "It's total bullshit that everyone is still saying he killed himself. He was murdered. Karma got his killer in the end, though. They got killed by a wild animal. . . Benny was supposed to go on a date with my mother that next weekend. . . Sometimes, I can still hear my mother crying about Benny. . . He was so great with Dusty too. . .he would have been a great dad."

The woman had actually got killed by El when they came for her. Chrissy tried not to think about how she was killed, and a part of her felt like she deserved it for what she did to Benny, but it also wasn't her place to judge considering how biased she was. She had been staring at an empty spot on Eddie's counter when she felt his hand slip into hers. He squeezed.

"Sorry," he said softly.

"Yeah, me too," Chrissy said, sniffling. "Anyway, let's get started! Eddie, what - "

Carefully, Eddie pulled her into his arms and hugged her gently. She froze for a moment before relaxing and hugging him tightly, letting the tears escape. Her body shook as she buried her face into his shoulder and cried. Everything had happened so fast that day, and the days after that, Chrissy hadn't really let herself mourn for Benny. Now, she was letting it all in. After crying into his shoulder for a while, she kind of just stayed there. . .not moving and not saying a word as she enjoyed the feeling of his arms around her. Slowly, Chrissy pulled back and wiped her eyes.

"Thanks," she whispered.

After a while, Chrissy managed to get herself together and began instructing Eddie to make vegetable soup. It was pretty simple, and when she told him that she measured by heart, he nearly dumped the entire thing of pepper into the soup.

"You told me to measure by heart," Eddie said.

"Within reason!" Chrissy giggled.

Eddie cackled and hip checked her. When they got the soup boiling onto the stove, Eddie threw his head back as he stirred, laughing madly.

"Yeah, I like this," he said.

"You're crazy," she laughed.

"Says the person who's choosing to hang out with me," Eddie said.

"Well, maybe I'm crazy too," she said and he paused to gaze fondly at her. "Stir the pot, Eddie."

"You look crazy too," Eddie replied.

"I meant, stir the soup in the pot!" She laughed.

Once Eddie managed to successfully make the soup, they sat down at the kitchen to eat it.

"Hey, I didn't do half bad," Eddie grinned.

"You did really good," Chrissy said.

"Well, I couldn't have done it without you," Eddie said with a smile and nudged her foot with his. "Nor would I have wanted to. It's kind of the perfect weather to have soup, you know."

"Yeah," Chrissy said softly.

After they finished eating, they put the leftovers away and started to clean up. Eddie insisted on helping even though he had been the one to cook. Chrissy figured he only wanted to help so he could flick water at her. He's such a menace. After putting the dishes away, Eddie brought her back to his room. They listened to Muddy Waters for a while and other blues music with Eddie telling her all about how he used to dance with his mom. Chrissy could tell by the look in his eyes that he really loved his mother, and even though he lost her when he was really young, he clearly missed her every single day.

He changed the record, and she smiled when she heard Bob Dylan start to play. He danced with her and spun her around the room, her laughter bouncing off the walls with the music. In that moment, it was just them and no one else. And when "Simple Twist of Fate" came on, he pulled her close to him. She knew what the song was about, a man having a moment with a woman, and all it took was him to fall in love with her, but it wasn't destined to work out. Chrissy was determined to have several moments with Eddie, and she hoped they would mean something to him as they did for her. And even though this song was about lost love and heartbreak, she could feel it in her bones that this was their song.

"Eddie?!" A voice from the living room called.

Eddie and Chrissy jumped apart pretty quickly, their faces red. Eddie shut off the music and turned to Chrissy.

"It's my uncle Wayne," Eddie said. "Sometimes, he comes to check on me."

"Aww," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, it's real cute," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"I wanna meet him," Chrissy said.

"What? No," Eddie said, and she gave him a look. "Alright, fine, but no asking him stories about baby Eddie."

"You know, I didn't think of that, but that's a good idea," Chrissy said, and Eddie groaned.

"Eddie?" Wayne called and popped his head into the room. "Oh, sorry."

"Hi, I'm Chrissy Henderson," she greeted and held out her hand.

"Wayne Munson," he replied, shaking her hand. "I didn't know Eddie had a girlfriend."

"What?! She's not my girlfriend," Eddie yelped. "I mean, she's my friend, and she just happens to be a girl. Technically, that does make her my girlfriend, but you know, guys and girls can be friends without it being romantic. Look at me and Ronnie except that we're not the same in the way. . .well, it's just different."

Chrissy bit her lip, repressing a giggle, and placed her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Eddie," she said and turned to Wayne. "He's my friend. . .for now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Eddie asked. "Wait, how long were you going to let me go on for?"

"Until it stopped being funny, but that would have gone on forever," Chrissy said and Wayne snorted.

"I like her," Wayne said.

"It's hard not to," Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

"I brought by some food for Eddie, but it seems like there's proper food in there," Wayne said.

"Oh, Eddie made vegetable soup," Chrissy said proudly.

"Eddie cooked?" Wayne asked.

"I had a good instructor," Eddie replied.

"It's really good. You're welcome to have some," Chrissy said. "Maybe you can tell me all about baby Eddie."

"That sounds like a good plan, darlin'," Wayne said.

"No, no, nope! No way!" Eddie said, shaking his head.

"Don't be such a bad host, Eddie," Chrissy mockingly scolded him and Wayne laughed.

"I should tell you about the time I caught him hiding comic books in the freezer," Wayne said as he escorted her to the kitchen.

Eddie begrudgingly followed them to the kitchen and plopped down next to Chrissy after she fixed Wayne a bowl. She could feel Eddie's eyes on hers as Wayne talked about him. She could feel him trying to figure her out, and Chrissy's grin widened, wishing him all the luck in the world. Oh, she forgot to show him her sketchbook. Oh, well, plenty of time for that later.

Chapter Six

[matttgirlies]

Matt & Me🎀

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24

a story heavily based on Priscilla Presley’s Book “Elvis & Me” based in the 1950’s - 1970’s.

fem! reader x singer! matt

disclaimer!! - in no way am i saying matt would ever support or do these kind of things, for the sake of the book certain unethical things do happen at times.

warnings - mentions of guns,, drug use,, threats,, mentions of affairs

y/nn = your nickname for any confusion🩷

Chapter 21

Putting together the best musicians, sound and lighting technicians, costumers, and choreographers, he was taking no chances this time. He scoured the music scene for the top sidemen in the business. Auditions were held and he handpicked each player—names such as James Burton, John Wilkinson, Ronny Tutt, Glen D. Hardin, Jerry Scheff. He loved the sound of the Sweet Inspirations, backup group for Aretha Franklin, and he hired them on the spot as a warmup act and to sing backup vocals. He also hired his favorite gospel group, the Imperial Quartet.

Before leaving Los Angeles, Matt rehearsed at RCA Sound Studios for ten days and then polished the act for a full week prior to the opening. It was the event of the summer in Vegas. Colonel Parker brought the preopening publicity to fever pitch. Billboards were up all over town. On the third floor of the International, administrative offices bustled with activity. No other entertainer coming into Vegas had ever stimulated this kind of excitement. The hotel lobby was dominated by Matt paraphernalia—pictures, posters, T-shirts, stuffed animals, balloons, records, souvenir programs. You’d think Barnum and Bailey were coming to town.

Back home there was also excitement as we girls discussed what we’d wear to the opening. “I want you to look extra special, Baby,” Matt said. “This is a big night for all of us.” I hit every boutique in West L.A. before finding just the right outfit.

Though it had been nine years since Matt had given a live performance, you never would have known it from his opening. The audience cheered the moment he stepped onstage and never stopped the entire two hours as Matt sang, “All Shook Up,” “Blue Suede Shoes,” “In the Ghetto,” “Tiger Man,” and “Can’t Help Falling in Love.” He mixed the old with the new, the fast and hot with the lyrical and romantic. It was the first time I’d ever seen Matt perform live. Wanting to surprise me, he had kept me from rehearsals. I was astounded. At the end he left them still cheering and begging for more.

Cary Grant was among the stars who came backstage to congratulate him after the show. But the most touching moment was when Colonel William arrived with tears in his eyes, wanting to know where his boy was. Matt came out of the dressing room and the two men embraced. I believe everyone felt their emotion in that moment of triumph.

I don’t think we slept that night. Nate Doe brought in all the newspapers and we read the rave reviews declaring, “Matt was great” and “He never looked or sang better.” He shared credit for his new success with all of us.

“Well, we did it. It’s going to be a long thirty days, but it’s going to be worth it if we get the reception we got last night. I may have been a real tyrant, but it was well worth it.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” we all agreed, laughing. “You were a tyrant.”

The International Hotel was delirious over Matt’s performance and the box-office receipts. The following day they signed a fiveyear contract with the Colonel for Matt to appear twice a year, usually around the same time, January and August, at the then unheardof salary of one million dollars a year.

Matt literally took over Las Vegas for the entire month he was there, playing to a packed house every show as thousands more were turned away. No matter where we looked, all we could see was the name Matt—on television, newspapers, banners, and billboards. The King had returned.

Initially, Matt’s triumph in Las Vegas brought a new vitality to our marriage. He seemed a different person. Once again, he felt confident about himself as a performer and he continued to watch his weight and work out every day at karate.

It was also the first time that I felt we were functioning as a team. I made several trips to New York, trying to find unique accessories for him to wear onstage. I bought scarves, jewelry, and a black leather belt with chain links all around it that Bill Belew would later copy for the famous Matt jumpsuit belts.

I loved seeing him healthy and happy again, and I especially enjoyed our early days in Vegas. The International provided an elegant three-bedroom suite that we turned into our home away from home. During his show I always sat at the same table down front, never tiring of watching him perform. He was spontaneous and one never knew what to expect from him.

On occasion, after his midnight show, we’d catch lounge acts of other performers playing Vegas or we’d gamble until dawn. Other times we’d relax backstage, visiting with entertainers captivated by his performance. This was the first time I’d been with Matt at a high point in his career.

With the renewed fame came renewed dangers. Offstage he could be guarded by Sonny and Red. Onstage he was a walking target. One night that summer Nate and Sonny were tipped off that a woman in the audience was carrying a gun and had threatened to shoot Matt. A true professional, Matt insisted on going on. Additional precautions were taken and everyone was on the alert. Matt was instructed to stay downstage, making himself a smaller target, and Sonny and Jerry were poised to jump in front of him at the slightest sign of suspicious movement in the audience. Red was positioned in the audience with the FBI agents.

The show seemed to take an eternity. I glanced at Patsy apprehensively and she in turn grasped my hand as we comforted each other, longing for the night to end without incident. James remained backstage, never letting Matt out of his sight and praying, “Dear God, don’t let anything happen to my son.”

Because of this and other threats, extra security was arranged wherever Matt appeared. Entrances through backstages, kitchens, back elevators, and side exits became routine.

Matt had his own theory about assassinations, based on the murders of the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., and Robert F. Kennedy. He felt that the assassins gloated over their “accomplishments,” and told his bodyguards that if any attempt were made on his life, they should get the killer—even before the police. He didn’t want anyone bragging to the media that they’d killed Matt Sturniolo.

Sonny and Red lived in so much tension these days that they were constantly frenzied. Suspicious in crowds of overzealous fans, they were quick to respond to any sign of danger. Compared to Sonny’s diplomacy, Red’s reputation was to act first and ask questions later. Eventually, numerous assault-and-battery charges started piling up against Matt. When James warned him about Sonny and Red’s aggressiveness, Matt said, “Goddamn, Red. I hired you to keep the sons of bitches away from me, not get me in any legal binds. Somehow you’re going to have to control that redheaded temper of yours.”

Although Matt would joke about the death threats—and there would be several more throughout the Vegas commitments—the fear and constant need for security heightened the pressure of nightly performing.

In the beginning when Matt began doing regular Vegas engagements, we girls visited frequently. We’d fly in over the weekend, sometimes bringing our children, spend three or four days, and then return home.

On the days we were apart I’d take hundreds of Polaroids and home movies of Charlotte. She was growing so rapidly I didn’t want him to miss out on her development. Daily he’d receive his “care packages,” as I’d refer to them, including tape recordings of me teaching Charlotte new words and Charlotte mimicking me. Each week, upon my arrival, I’d paste photos on the mirrors in his bedroom to remind him that he had a wife and child.

During his first couple of engagements he still seemed humbled by lingering doubts of whether the public was fully accepting him. At this point he had no interest in outside affairs or flirtations, his concentration on daily rehearsals and performances every evening excluding everything else.

Later he would become more cocky. The crowds’ admiration took him back to his triumphs in the early fifties and he found it hard to come down to earth after a month of nightly cheers. His name on the International’s huge marquee would be replaced by the next superstar. The offices on the third floor would be cleared out and incoming calls for reservations would stop.

Thriving on all the excitement, glamour, and hysteria, he found it difficult to go home and resume his role as father and husband. And for me the impossibility of replacing the crowd’s adoration became a real-life nightmare.

At home in Los Angeles, there was just the usual group around—strictly a family atmosphere. This abrupt change was too much for him and soon he developed the habit of lingering in Vegas for days, sometimes weeks, after a show. The boys were finding it increasingly difficult to resolve the conflict between working for Matt and maintaining a home life.

Crazed with inactivity and boredom, Matt became edgy and temperamental, a condition exacerbated by the Dexedrine he was again taking to control his weight.

Sometimes, to ease the transition home, Matt would insist we all pile into cars and head for Palm Springs. Since our marriage we had spent-many weekends there sunning and watching football games and late-night television, but after Charlotte was born, my needs changed. The Palm Springs heat was too much for her, the long drive boring, the idleness of resort life wearying. One weekend I suggested, “Matt, why don’t just you and the guys go down?”

From that time on, the guys developed their own lifestyle in our secluded desert home. Occasionally we wives would be invited to spend the weekend, but by and large, Matt now considered Palm Springs his private refuge.

He made it clear that this time away was good for him, giving him a chance to think, to hang out with the guys. In reality Matt was lost. He did not know what to do with himself after Vegas. He escaped in more powerful, unnecessary prescribed drugs to raise his spirits and ward off boredom.

After he had conquered Vegas, it was agreed that Matt should go back on the road. Colonel immediately began booking concert tours around the nation, starting with an impressive run of six sold-out shows in the Houston Astrodome, which earned over one million dollars in three nights.

The night I arrived in Texas to watch the performance, Amber, Judy, and I flew in on a private jet. I looked down on the Astrodome and found it hard to believe my eyes. The length of a football field—and already sold out. It made me nervous. I could imagine how Matt felt.

Matt too found the Astrodome overwhelming. “Goddamn,” he said when he first walked in. “They expect me to sell this son of a bitch out? It’s a goddamn ocean.”

However dwarfed he was by the giant facility, he electrified his audience. Houston was our first run-in with mass hysteria. The limousine was strategically parked by the stage door for Matt’s immediate getaway. Even so, screaming fans surrounded the car, frantically yelling out his name, presenting flowers, and trying to touch him.

If anything, Houston was an even greater victory than Vegas. The King of Rock and Roll was back on top. The strain of sustaining such a hype was just beginning and, for the moment, I could believe that everything would still be all right. I did not realize the extent to which Matt’s touring was going to separate us, that this in fact was the beginning of the end. After Houston Matt began crossing the country, making one-night stands, flying by day, trying to catch some sleep to maintain the high energy level demanded by his performances. From 1971 on, he toured more than any other artist—three weeks at a time with no days off and two shows on Saturdays and Sundays.

I missed him. We talked constantly of being together more, but he knew that if he let me join him, he couldn’t refuse the requests from regulars whose marriages were also feeling the strain of long separations. For a while a group of us would fly in from time to time, but this didn’t last long. Matt noticed that his employees were lax in discharging their duties to him when spouses were present, and he established a new policy: No wives on the road.

I didn’t really miss the one-night stands, a tedious routine at best: Jump off the plane, rush to the hotel, unpack as little as possible, since you had to check out the next day, go to the performance, then back to the hotel for a little rest before heading back to the airport. Everything was the same except for the name of the town.

It was the day Matt suggested I come to Vegas less often that I became really upset and suspicious. He’d decided that we wives would attend opening and closing nights only.

I knew then I’d have to fight for our relationship or accept the fact that we were now gradually going to grow apart as so many couples in show business do. As a couple, we’d never sat down to plan out a future. Matt, individually, was stretching as an artist, but as man and wife we needed a common reality.

The chances of our marriage surviving were slim indeed as long as he continued to live apart from Charlotte and me, and in bachelor quarters at that. It came down to how much longer I could stand the separation. Matt wanted to have his cake and eat it too. And now, as the tours and long engagements took him even further from his family, I realized that we might never reach my dreams of togetherness.

I had trouble believing that Matt was always faithful, and the more he kept us apart, the more my suspicions grew.

Now when we went to Vegas, I felt more comfortable at the openings. He was always preoccupied with the show and I felt he needed me then. On closing nights I always felt uneasy. Too many days had gone by, enough time for suspicions to poison my thoughts. The Vegas maître d’s invariably planted a bevy of beauties in the front rows for the entertainer to play to. Curious, I would scan their faces while watching Matt closely to see if he seemed to direct his songs to any girl in particular. Suspicious of everyone, my heart ached—but we were never able to talk about it. It was to be accepted as part of the job.

Backstage one night James was jokingly negotiating for a key that had been tossed to Matt. She was an attractive middle-aged blonde—James’s type. Matt said, “Dad, you’ve got enough problems at home with one blonde. You certainly don’t need two.”

“Well, okay,” James said. “You’re going to have problems of your own if your wife goes out in the street looking like that.” I had begun wearing skimpy knit dresses and see-through fabrics that were daringly revealing. Steven and Charlie whistled and gave wolfcalls, while Matt proudly showed me off.

The jokes I played on him were also efforts to get his attention. One night, after he’d left early for a show, I put on a black dress with a black hood and an exceptionally low-cut back. When it came time for Matt to give away kisses to the girls in the audience—a regular part of his show—I went up to the stage. Instead of kissing me, he kept on singing his song, leaving me to stand there. With my hair hiding the dress strap around my neck, I appeared from the back to be nude from the waist up. I could hear the “oooh”s and “ahhhh”s of the audience. They were under the impression that a topless girl had cornered Matt and that he couldn’t figure out what to do.

I kept whispering to him, “Kiss me, kiss me, so I can sit down,” but he decided to turn the joke on me, and made me wait in the spotlight for the duration of the song. Planting a big kiss on my lips, he surprisingly introduced me to the audience. I felt a bit embarrassed and made my way back to my seat.

Later in the show he’d strut back and forth onstage, tease his audience, talk to them, tell them stories, even confide in them. “You know,” he’d say, “some people in this town get a little greedy. I know you folks save a long time to come and hear me sing. I just want you to know, as far as I’m concerned, there won’t be any exorbitant raise in price when you come back. I’m here to entertain you and that’s all I care about.”

Matt was having an ongoing love affair with his audience and the next time I was home alone I knew I had no choice but to start more of a life of my own.

It was with that thought in mind that Amber, my sister Michelle, and I planned a short trip to Palm Springs. In the course of the weekend I opened the mailbox to check the mail and found a number of letters from girls who had obviously been to the house, one in particular signed “Lizard Tongue.” My immediate response was disbelief, followed by outrage. I dialed Vegas and demanded that Nate find Matt and bring him to the telephone. When Nate said Matt was sleeping, I told him about the letters and insisted I speak to Matt. Nate promised that he would have Matt call as soon as he woke up. He did, but it was clear that Nate had filled him in on the situation and Matt had his explanation ready. He was totally innocent, the girls were just fans, they were out of their minds if they said they’d ever come to the house, and besides, it was their word against his. As usual, in the end I apologized for putting him on the spot, but things at this point were becoming too obvious.

He said, “Get out and do things while I’m gone, because if you don’t, you’re going to start getting depressed.”

Although my choices were limited—he still objected to my taking a job or enrolling in classes at college—I continued my dancing and started taking private art instruction.

Matt was a born entertainer and although he tried to avoid crowds, disliked restaurants, and complained he “couldn’t get out like a normal person,” this life-style suited him. He handpicked the people he wanted to be around him—to work with and travel withand they adjusted to his routine and his hours and his temperament. It was a pretty close clan throughout the years. A few arguments erupted and a few couples left over some misunderstandings, but they usually returned in a week or two.

My view of life had been fashioned by Matt. I had entered his world as a young girl and he had provided absolute security. He distrusted any outside influences, which he saw as a threat to the relationship, fearing they would destroy his creation, his ideal. He could never have foreseen what was happening as the consequence of his prolonged absences from home. A major period in my growth was beginning. I still feared our separations but felt that our love had no boundaries, that I was his and if he wanted me to change, I would. For years nothing had existed in my world but him, and now that he was gone for long stretches of time, the inevitable happened. I was creating a life of my own, starting to achieve a sense of security in myself, and discovering there was a whole world outside our marriage.

Over the years of playing Vegas, other pressures began to mount. There were more death threats and lawsuits, including alleged paternity suits and assault-and-battery charges. Jealous husbands claimed they’d seen Matt flirting with their wives, and others continued to charge that Sonny and Red were manhandling them. Matt began to get bored with these nuisances as well as with the sameness of the show. Inevitably, he tried to change the format, but then he felt it just didn’t have the same pacing as the original. He’d add a few songs here and there but then revert to the original. Pointed suggestions that he make changes before the next Vegas date added to the pressure.

Bored and restless, he increased his dependence on chemicals. He thought speed helped him escape from destructive thinking, when in reality it gave him false confidence and unnatural aggressiveness. He started losing perspective on himself and others. To me he became increasingly unreachable.

Excerpt from: "Elvis and Me" by Priscilla Beaulieu Presley. Scribd. This material may be protected by copyright.

a/n - welll..🎀

[sprnklersplashes]

Q with Jdronica 🫶🏻

Here's the thing with JD getting sick; he likes to power through it. Pretend he doesn't feel it, keep calm and carry on, insist that his immune system is as unbreakable as the rest of him,

Here's the other thing about JD being sick; Veronica sees right through it. It's been two years, after all. She knows him like the back of her hand. If he thinks he can still bullshit her when she has explored every inch of his body... he's nowhere near as smart as he thinks he is.

Especially when she comes over on Saturday morning to see him hunched over the kitchen sink with his hands clasped behind his neck. She lingers in the doorway, watching as he scrunches his face, buries his fingers in his hair. The pained breath lingers in the air, twisting Veronica's heart in ways she didn't expect.

Her steps are light as she crosses the kitchen, cushioned by the maroon rug Claire bought at a yard sale last spring. She clears her throat just before approaching him, the sound as tentative as her steps. It still makes him jump, and he turns at a speed that makes Veronica wince.

He blinks twice, swallows thickly. Then, he gives his best approximation of an "everytning's normal" smile.

"Ronnie," he says. He runs a shaky hand through his hair. "Didn't know you were coming over."

"What's up?" she asks him instead of replying. She watches as he straightens up, inhales slowly through his teeth. One hand is wrapped tightly around the kitchen counter, the knuckles white as if he's holding everything in that one hand.

"I'm f-"

"Jason, if you say 'I'm fine', I'll smack you so hard," she tells him. His mouth opens, the closes without a sound, eyes widening slightly before he leans back into the counter. Guilt prickles in her chest as she notices the pallour of his cheeks, how he doubles over slightly against the pain in his stomach. She brushes her fingers against his, silently, softly, whispering "I'm sorry" without words. It works; a tiny hint of a smile flickers on his face.

"I may or may not have food poisoning," he sighs. "That's the conclusion I've come to anyway. That or I'm pregnant."

"Oh I use a condom and you're on the pill." He barks a laugh at that, although it's quickly undermined by a pained whimper. Logic tells her that it's fine, that it's just a bad stomach and in 24 hours she'll be laughing with him about it. But another part of her, the part that's bundled up with him, feels like that's too far away.

"Okay buckaroo." She presses a kiss to his hair and grabs the glass of water on the counter. "Couch. Now."

"Veronica, I'm-"

"What did I say about the F word?" she asks. She glances him over again and grabs crackers from the cupboard. Then she turns, raises her eyebrow and gestures with the glass. "Coach. Now."

"Yes ma'am," JD mumbles. He trails Veronica into the living room, dragging his hand over his face as he goes. Despite his attempts at putting up a fight, he all but collapses onto the couch, knees pulled to his chest in an attempt to make the pain stop. As she places the water and crackers on the table beside him, she sees him biting the skin on his thumb, face tight so it doesn't show how much pain he's in.

It's a classic JD thing. Sometimes she wonders if he's aware she's doing it.

"Sorry I ruined your Saturday," he says weakly. Veronica just shrugs and curls up next to him, so close that his sock-clad feet tickle her legs.

"I didn't have anywhere else to be," she tells him. "Just remember that if you puke, do not do it on me. I like this skirt."

"I bought you that skirt."

Veronica sighs, hiding her grin in her hand. Something settles in her chest, warm and gentle and peaceful. God, she loves this boy. She's going to spend the rest of her life with this boy.

For now though, she just scratches his back and watches him sip water.

"Yeah. You did." JD chuckles, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on the couch.

"I've got good taste."

(Definitely spending the rest of her life with him)

"Yeah. You do."

tip me on ko-fi (completely optional)

[lolahasmoxie]

let's get to the good part (e.m)

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x childhood best friend

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts (some somno stuff because yes, please), awkward conversations, Eddie and Wayne being cute AF.

Part 3 in my series. Takes place right after Part 2.

Part 1 / Part 2

You pulled your car into Benny's parking lot. After turning off the engine, you sat staring ahead, hands on the steering wheel. This was different from how you had foreseen your Saturday going.

It had started with Eddie's face between your thighs, setting your senses on fire as the sun began to crest over the horizon. He had also managed to sneak into the shower with you under the guise of "conserving water." It took minutes for you both to resort to a tangling mass of giggly limbs as he took you under the shower spray.

That was part that you had planned for. You weren't prepared for Eddie on the phone as you exited your bedroom after getting dressed. You weren't prepared for Eddie to tell you that Wayne and Ronnie wanted him to ask you to join them for breakfast.

Now you were here. You had taken your own car because you weren't ready to answer Ronnie's questions. And you knew he would have questions because he was amazingly perceptive for a four-year-old and Eddie's nosy mini-me. You would also have to sit in front of his uncle and pretend like Eddie hadn't completely ruined for all other men the previous night.

The bell over the door announced your arrival, and you didn't have to look long before you heard Ronnie calling your name. You couldn't help but smile as you saw Eddie and Wayne wave at you. The elder Munsons were seated on one side of the booth, and Ronnie all but dragged you to sit next to him. Before you could even say hello, he told you about what he and Grandpa Wayne had done the night before.

"Whoa, son," Wayne chastized as Eddie flagged down a waitress. "She just got here; try again."

"Oh yeah," he said before getting on his knees on the booth seat to see you better. "Hi."

"Hi, Ronnie." You couldn't help but smile as he told you about his night. While he recapped the scary movie he had watched with Wayne, you couldn't help but glance up to see Eddie looking at you. His pretty face rested on his hand, his gaze making you feel the same warmness you had felt when he woke you up. When he winked at you, you were shocked you hadn't melted into a puddle on the linoleum floor.

45 minutes later, after you'd had much-needed coffee and waffles smothered in maple syrup, you wondered if every Saturday could be like this. You were laughing at a story Wayne told when Ronnie alerted the table that he needed to pee. Wayne offered, but Eddie shook his head.

"I'm on the outside; I got him. Let's go, little man." You couldn't help but watch the two of them. The way Ronnie looked up at Eddie, the gentle way that Eddie led him. Your brain couldn't help but conjure an image of Eddie leading another rugrat with his other hand. You were met with a knowing smirk when you turned back to Wayne.

"I take it Eddie stayed the night?" You nearly spit out the coffee in your mouth as he took a sip from his own cup. You buried your face in your hands as you willed the floor to swallow you whole.

"Is it that obvious?"

"Just a hunch," he said as he leaned towards you. "'Sides," he continued, "the way his face lit up when you walked in told me pretty much everything." Wayne sighed as he looked out the window in front. "You also didn't quite get that hickey on your neck." You grumble as your hand goes to cover the mark. "You know, he's loved you since he was 13 years old."

"He told me that last night." You admit, a coy smile on your lips.

"I don't think he knew what it was, but I could tell. You two were attached at the hip the moment you met," he chuckled. "thick as thieves, passed out in the living room every weekend while you watched those cheesy-ass horror movies."

You chuckled at the memories of your childhood. "We had to be sat apart in EVERY class we had together in elementary school."

"Oh, I know it," he replied. "When did you realize you loved him?" You sat silently, hating how Wayne could always read you so well.

"Beginning of senior year. It was like I was seeing him for the first time. It felt like someone had turned on this switch in my brain, and...boom." Wayne nodded in understanding.

"Well, I'm glad everything worked out. Just," he paused as he took a deep breath. "Eddie's always been a gentler soul than he lets on. He feels everything deeply; when Ronnie's mama ran out, he was a wreck. And Ronnie is the same way, so..."

"Wayne, is this your "don't hurt him or else" speech?" you ask with a grin. Wayne just shrugs his shoulders as he sips from his mug.

"Wouldn't dream of it, darling. I know you'll be good to them. He really struck gold the day he met you." You want to cry at the compliment, especially since Wayne holds them close to his vest.

"All done!" Ronnie breaks the moment as he clambers next to you. "Daddy, let's go to the park! Y/N can come, and she can push me on the..."

"Whoa there," Eddie says as Ronnie practically vibrates in his seat. "Y/N might have plans today; you can't just assume..."

"It's ok, Eds," you interject softly as you glance down at Ronnie. "An afternoon in the park with my two favorite boys sounds perfect."

Later that night, Eddie carries a sleepy Ronnie to bed. When they left the park, Ronnie talked about how he couldn't wait to see you again. Eddie smiled as Ronnie drifted off midsentence when he tucked him in. When Eddie climbed into his bed, he wondered what you were doing. Within seconds he reached for the phone, dialing your number and hoping you were awake.

"Hello?"

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"No," you said softly. "Is Ronnie asleep?"

"Yeah. You know, he talked about you all evening."

"Oh yeah? I bet you hated that."

"I did, it was awful," Eddie said as he made himself comfortable. "I'm glad you came with us."

"Me too," you said softly. "Hopefully, I'll get to see you both..."

"I love you." There's silence after Eddie's gentle declaration. He can hear you breathe on the other end, and he can't stop himself from holding back. "I love you, and I know that this may be fast. I know it is, but nothing about this feels weird or wrong, right? It feels like this is all how it was always supposed to be, and I..."

"Eds." He stops when he hears you call his name. You wonder if he remembers any of his 3am declaration of love the night before. Still, it makes your heart palpitate. "I love you too."

"You do?" His voice is soft and unsure,

"Of course, after all this time, how could I not? And I agree; this feels right. Makes me think about all the time we wasted."

"Does that mean you might want to see me Friday?"

"Hell, I'd see you now if I wasn't afraid of falling asleep behind the wheel." He could hear you yawn; he could picture you stretching out in your bed. "So, is it a date?"

"Hell yeah!" he says enthusiastically but groans a second later." "Shit, Wayne won't be able to come over to watch Ronnie. He's going on a fishing trip with some guys from work."

"Just bring Ronnie." Your comment was stated like it was so obvious. As if there could be any other solution to this predicament.

"You mean it?"

"Of course, we could order dinner and watch some movies. And if you spend the night, we can get to the good stuff when he goes to bed." You can hear Eddie groan lightly, a smirk on your face when you realize you have him hook, line, and sinker.

"You're evil. You put a tantalizing situation like that in my head, and now I have to wait six days to see you again. You're a cruel mistress."

"I'll call you tomorrow night; we can talk then."

"Promise?"

"I promise," you giggle. "Love you, Eds."

"Love you too, Sweetheart. Now go to sleep."

"Night, Eddie."

"Night, Y/N." Eddie placed the phone back on the receiver. Oh, how he simply couldn't wait to get to the good part.

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

@kimmi-kat @feltonswifesworld87 @mrsmunsonxquinn @iguessyourejustwhatineeded @hahahafucku @emilyroxy @ihatepeanutss @mackyboo21