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kennahjune · 1 year ago

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Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

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will80sbyers · 7 days ago

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No but this parallel is so insane because it goes on for the whole scene lol

both Jancy and Byler were talking about a conversation about saying "I love you" and Nancy said it to Steve when she wasn't really convinced and then she started thinking about how maybe she did mean it when she said she didn't love Steve... and then Mike starts that conversation about his "I love you" talking about how he didn't know what to say... Because he's not 100% sure lol and then the only thing changing his mind on this is Will's speech (A LIEEEE)

AND after this both Nancy and Mike get a "lightbulb moment" that makes the plot go forward and help them to solve the mystery, Nancy sees a guy with a tape recorder and Mike sees the pen not writing and discovers the phone number

Like they parallel the whole scene completely you cannot tell me this isn't 100% intentional cmon 😂

#byler #byler jancy parallel #will byers #mike wheeler

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michaelsfavgirl · 10 months ago

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in the studio

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: After weeks of no intimacy due to his demanding schedule you decide to pay Michael a visit at the studio in a short skirt. Oblivious to the effects it has on him you face the consequences.

Tags: dom!michael, sub!reader, slight exhibitionism, doing it standing up, against a wall, oral (fem receiving), fingering, pussy slapping, p in v, rough sex, creampie, orgasm denial.

Word Count: 3.9k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: Sorry for not being very active these last couple of weeks, uni has started again and it's kicking my butt.

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

As you walk through the bustling halls of the studio, your heart swells with anticipation, eager to reunite with your husband amidst his intense recording sessions for his latest album. Despite the excitement, a tinge of concern lingers in your mind, a nagging feeling that something has shifted in his demeanor lately. The late nights and early mornings, the relentless pursuit of perfection—it's all taken a toll on both of you.

You've noticed the change in him, how he's become more distant, more consumed by the music than ever before. It weighs heavily on his conscience, knowing he's neglecting the one person who means the world to him, you. But amidst the chaos of the studio, with deadlines looming and pressures mounting, finding time for each other has become increasingly challenging.

Determined to lift his spirits and offer some semblance of support, you've made the decision to surprise him at work, hoping to inject a bit of joy into his day. As you approach the door to the recording booth, the familiar sound of his voice washes over you, filling you with warmth and reassurance. Inside, you catch a glimpse of him through the slightly ajar door.

“Alright, Q roll the tape again, let’s move on to the adlibs now,” you hear Michael call out to Quincy Jones, the legendary producer, from the booth. His voice seems slightly strained from being in the studio before the sun was even up.

You watch as he readjusts his headphones on top of his head and clears his throat. The melody starts to play throughout the room and he begins to let the music overtake his body. His passion and dedication is evident in every note he sings. His curls bounce with each movement, his expression focused yet illuminated by the sheer love for his craft.

While he does so you look around the room and you spot a familiar face: Janet, sitting on the couch along with a few more people, Michael's colleagues you assume. She suddenly catches your eyes and smiles warmly, gesturing for you to come in and make yourself known. Gently pushing the door open, you enter the room with cautious steps, mindful not to disrupt the creative flow. Taking a seat beside Janet, you exchange greetings and exhale softly, allowing yourself to sink into the comfort of the couch.

"I'm surprised Mike didn't tell me you were coming," Janet whispers, her voice tinged with curiosity as she leans in closer to you, her words barely above a whisper in the bustling studio.

A wistful sigh escapes your lips as you gaze across the room at your beloved Michael, his figure immersed in the creative process, unaware of your presence. "I wasn't planning to, I just... needed to see him," you confess, longing evident in your voice as you speak of him.

Janet's expression softens, her hand finding its way to your arm in a gesture of comfort. "I know he's been a little distant lately. He's like that with all of us too. Hasn't even called Mom in a while, she's starting to worry," she confides, her concern mirroring your own.

You nod in understanding, your gaze still fixed on Michael, unable to tear yourself away from him. "You miss him, don't you?" Janet's voice interrupts your reverie. she looks at your outfit, immediately noticing the short skirt you’re wearing. You finally take your eyes off Michael and knit your brows in confusion. Before you can respond, she nudges you lightly with her knee, drawing attention to the tantalizing view of your legs. Heat floods your cheeks as you glance down at your exposed thighs.

“Oh- it’s, it’s not like that” you feel your cheeks heat up as you protest weakly, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt in a futile attempt to cover more skin.

A mischievous glint dances in Janet's eyes as she smirks knowingly. "Oh, spare me the excuses. It's obvious you two haven't fucked in a while," she teases, earning herself a playful swat from you.

"That may be true, but it's not why I'm wearing this, okay?" you retort, a hint of defensiveness creeping into your tone. "It's just a cute skirt," you add, though the words sound feeble even to your own ears.

Janet rolls her eyes in mock exasperation, but the teasing light in her gaze softens into understanding. "Whatever you say," she concedes with a knowing smile, letting the matter drop for now.

With a shake of your head, you try to refocus your attention on Michael. When you turn your head towards the booth you find his deep brown eyes already looking at you. A soft smile curves your lips as you wave at him, feeling a flutter of joy in your chest at the sight of his chuckle in response.

As Michael announces a short break over the microphone, Janet nudges you once more, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. Taking the hint, you rise from your seat, your heart racing with anticipation as you make your way towards the soundproof booth, eager for a moment of intimacy with your beloved husband.

Passing by Quincy on your way, you exchange a polite greeting which he returns automatically before whipping his head back quickly, his surprise evident as he realizes you've managed to slip past him unnoticed.

As you slip into the soundproof booth with Michael, the outside world fades away, leaving just the two of you cocooned in a bubble of intimacy. With a flick of his wrist, he turns off the microphone, ensuring that your conversation remains private. “I’ve missed you,” you whisper and wrap your arms around him, your head snuggling into his chest.

He returns the affection, feeling how much you’ve been craving his attention that he's unpurposefully depraved you from. Michael returns your affection, pulling you closer, his head resting atop yours as he breathes in the scent of your shampoo, a comforting reminder of home amidst the chaos of the studio. "I know, baby, I'm sorry for neglecting you these past few weeks. You know how hectic it gets here sometimes," he murmurs into your hair, his hand tracing soothing circles on your back.

You nod in understanding and exhale. The tension of your separation melting away in his arms. "I'm happy you came," he adds, his voice filled with genuine warmth, and you can't help but smile at the sincerity in his words.

"Good, I was worried. Didn't want to distract you too much," His response is a playful squeeze of your waist, accompanied by a tsk. "You could never, sweetheart," he counters, his affectionate gaze lingering on you.

"Although your little get-up might distract somebody else here," he remarks, his voice dropping to a deeper, more suggestive tone. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as you lean back slightly, meeting his gaze. His eyes trace over your body, settling on your short skirt, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you realize his intentions. You can see his pupils dilating even in the dim space. You try to release yourself from his arms to pull down your skirt but before you can do that, he tightens his grip around you, preventing your escape.

"Not so fast, baby. You'll have some explaining to do when we get home," he teases, a playful glint in his eyes. "I knew how desperate you can get after not being touched for a bit, but I didn't expect you to prance around here in your tiny skirt, trying to make me jealous," he continues, his tone sending shivers down your spine and causing you to press your thighs together instinctively.

"What? No, no, Michael, I'm not—" you begin to protest, but he cuts you off by cocking his head to the side.

"Shh, didn't you notice how they were looking at you?" he murmurs, tilting his head toward the glass window. Your eyes follow his gaze, catching the embarrassed glances of his producers before they hastily avert their eyes, and you flush with embarrassment, realizing the unintended consequences of your outfit choice. “Practically drooling over you like perverts.”

As you turn back to face Michael, his gaze pierces through you, sending a shiver down your spine. "Thought you could rile me up, hm?" he challenges, his voice dripping with a potent mixture of authority and desire. You open your mouth to respond, but your mind is too preoccupied with the overwhelming sensation pulsing between your thighs. God, you’ve missed his touch so much. Missed him fucking you spineless on your shared bed over and over again. Your mind drifts and you can almost feel the weight of him atop you, stretching you on his meaty cock. You can practically feel his tip rubbing against your clit deliciously.

Reality snaps you back to the present as Michael's strong hands grip your hips, pinning you against a secluded corner of the booth, a blind spot hidden from prying eyes. "I asked you a question, didn't I? Or have you forgotten your manners?" he demands, his fingers firm against your jaw as he lifts your gaze to meet his.

Stuttering, you struggle to gather your thoughts, your arousal evident in the flush of your cheeks and the erratic beat of your heart. "Aw, poor baby," he coos, his tone teasing yet tinged with a hint of affection, "can't even string a few words together." You whimper in frustration, attempting to focus amidst the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, but the slickness between your legs betrays your desire.

"...Didn't wear it on purpose," you manage to whisper, your voice barely audible. Michael grins, bringing his face tantalizingly close to yours, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "Speak up, sweet girl. Can't hear you," he taunts.

Your gaze drifts to the exposed skin of his neck, the unbuttoned collar of his shirt a tempting invitation for your hungry eyes. You repeat yourself once more, this time slightly louder for him to hear which satisfies him. "What am I supposed to do with you, hm? I thought you were my good girl, wanted to spoil you for being so patient, but you've ruined that for yourself now," he muses, his tone laced with a mixture of disappointment and arousal.

you look at him with needy eyes as you hear the word spoil. “I’ll be good, I promise,” you plead.

"Of course you will, or else I'll worsen the punishment," he warns. Before you can react, he spins you around, pressing you against the wall and hiking up your skirt to your waist. Gasping at the sudden change, you look over your shoulder but he groans and twists your head back towards the wall. “Be good,” he commands and sinks down to his knees.

Michael's breath hitches as his gaze falls upon your panties, dampened by your arousal. With a knowing smirk, he nudges your legs apart, revealing the tantalizing fabric clinging to your folds. "So predictable," he muses silently to himself, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit. A whimper escapes your lips, followed by the urgent bucking of your hips, desperate for more friction. He grumbles in response, delivering a firm spank to your pussy, eliciting a yelp from you as you jolt forward, your face pressed into the wall.

"Don't be greedy," he admonishes.

Hooking his fingers at the sides of your panties, he slowly pulls them down your trembling legs, stuffing them into his pocket without hesitation. Leaning closer, he spreads your cheeks, his gaze fixated on your soaked cunt. He licks his lips in anticipation before planting heated kisses on the skin, tantalizingly close to where you crave him most. You fight the urge to beg for more, knowing it will only lead to the opposite of what you need.

Without uttering a word, he wraps his full lips around your throbbing clit, sucking it into his mouth with precision and pulling away with a pop. A whimper escapes your lips as you press your palms against the wall, your body trembling with anticipation. Praying that nobody’s trying to sneak a peek.

Michael watches intently as your sensitive nub pulses under his ministrations, his own desire threatening to consume him. He dives back and flicks his tongue against the slick bundle of nerves. He sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, your breath hitching with each exquisite sensation.

Lost in the bliss of the moment, Michael savors the taste of you on his tongue. Lapping at your glossy folds with his eyes closed. The sweet yet tangy flavor makes him dizzy and for a moment, he entertains the thought of forgetting about the naughty little skirt, abandoning all restraint, and indulging in the primal urge to make you cum over and over again.

But the sound of your sweet whines snaps him back to reality, reminding him of the delicate balance between pleasure and control. Reluctantly detaching his mouth from your throbbing clit, he shifts his weight onto his calves.

"Please... fuck, please, Michael," you plead, your words tinged with desperation and arousal, the fear of being discovered only adding to the intensity of the moment. Making you unable to string coherent sentences together.

"What did I say, hm?" His voice is a low growl. "Is it that difficult to follow simple rules, or are you being bad on purpose?" Another sharp slap lands on your drooling cunt, eliciting a cry of both pain and pleasure from you.

You shake your head, unable to trust your voice as you struggle to maintain your composure. Your legs tremble involuntarily, aching to close, but you know better than to disobey so you keep them spread. Michael, ever the attentive lover, notices the tension in your body and grins in satisfaction.

With deliberate care, he brings his right hand to your twitching inner thighs, his touch soft and soothing against your heated skin. The gentle caresses help to calm your racing heartbeat, even as the anticipation continues to build. Meanwhile, he palms his hard cock through his trousers, the friction adding to the heat of the moment.

His fingers move with practiced ease, scissoring against your warm, gooey walls, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your eyes roll back into your skull as your pussy greedily sucks his fingers deeper, desperate for the long-awaited stimulation it craves.

Oh, how much you've missed this. While you've tried to satisfy your desires in the past weeks, desperately rubbing your clit raw, nothing compares to the feeling of being touched by him. And now that your poor neglected pussy is finally receiving some much needed attention you can’t help but gush around his fingers. The wet squelching noises only serve to heighten the euphoric sensation.

You bite your lip to suppress the filthy noises threatening to escape your mouth, determined to maintain your composure. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, you resist the urge to look back at Michael, to look at his face as he pleases you, so you try to be a good girl, you keep your eyes fixed on the wall in front of you. Your hand trembles as you contemplate whether or not you’re allowed to play with your puffy pearl that’s aching for some loving.

As his gaze locks onto your wandering hand, inching dangerously close to your center, he delivers a stern warning: "Don't even think about it." You whimper in frustration, complying by bringing that hand under your shirt to play with your tender breasts, seeking some form of relief from the overwhelming arousal coursing through your body.

He continues to revel in the moment, his eyes glued on your glistening cunt, betraying the depth of his desire. Despite his stoic exterior, he's missed you more than words can convey. Countless times, he's found himself excusing himself from the studio to silently relieve his pent-up longing, imagining the sensation of stretching your pretty hole. Yet, afterwards instead of the satisfying sight of his release dripping out of you, he was met with the sight of his sticky cum on the floor.

Glancing down at his stiff cock, straining against the fabric of his trousers, he realizes he's reached his limit. He’s been holding himself back from ripping your clothes off from the second you walked into the booth with that adorable smile. With your slick coating his palm, he decides he can't wait any longer.

Though you pout from the sudden lack of stimulation, the sound of him rising to his full height, his warm minty breath tickling your ears, sends shivers down your spine. Then, the unmistakable sound of a zipper being undone and shuffling fills the air, followed by the sensation of his leaking tip at your entrance.

You gasp as his precum smears across your folds, mingling with your own juices in a tantalizing blend. His hand wraps around his fat length and guides his bulbous tip up and down your slick slit with agonizing slowness. With deliberate care, he pulls back his foreskin, revealing his sensitive cockhead to your needy heat, a silent promise of the pleasure to come.

His palm presses against the wall in front of your face, a silent command for you to lean into it. It's not the first time he's taken you against a wall like this, but this time feels different, more tender, knowing how fervently he's going to take you in just a moment. The juxtaposition drives you crazy. He steals a quick glance at the window, ensuring that no prying eyes are watching, before returning his full attention to you.

With a swift, fluid movement, he invades your tight hole, burying more and more of his meaty cock inside you without giving you a moment to adjust. As he fully sinks into you, his coily pubic hair brushing against your cheeks, he snakes his other arm around your middle, pulling you closer to him in a possessive embrace.

In no time, he's slamming his hips against yours with a fervor that leaves you gasping, your mouth hanging open in a silent plea for more. Your hands scramble to grasp onto him for support, seeking some anchor amidst the overwhelming sensation of being filled to the brim with his massive cock. Each thrust sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, the slight sting of his size stretching you to your limits mixing with the electrifying pulse of desire. Heavy balls slap against your clit as you hold onto the last bits of your dignity, before turn into a moaning mess for him.

"Missed me, sweet girl?" His gravelly voice whispers right behind your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your eyes flutter. You nuzzle your face against his hand, lips brushing against his skin in a tender gesture of affection, even amidst the raw intensity of your coupling. With each snap of his hips, your body surges forward, surrendering to the pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely. As you trail kisses up his forearm, he smiles at the gesture, goodness you make it so hard to stay mad at you.

With his front pressed firmly against your back, he continues his relentless assault on your eager body, his cock plunging into your slick walls with a merciless rhythm that leaves you powerless to resist. Uninhibited, pornographic moans spill from your lips, echoing in the dimly lit room as he drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. His movements grow more animalistic, his groans mingling with yours as he presses kisses to the nape of your neck, stoking the flames of desire that threaten to consume you both.

"Of course you did," he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of amusement and arousal as he notices your legs beginning to give way beneath you. "Look at you…can barely stand on your own two feet."

Your high pitched whines ring in his ears, the unmistakable scent of sex hanging heavy in the air as your pussy clenches around his thick cock, craving release. his veins dragging deliciously against your warm walls, molding your cunny back to his shape. Whilst he pounds his shaft in and out of you with each roll of his hips his round balls slap against your pulsing nub. intensifying the stinging sensation that drives you closer to the brink of orgasm.

"Mi-Michael, I'm close…oh god, fuck, gonna cum…" you manage to choke out between ragged moans, your entire body trembling with the impending release. Your eyebrows furrow, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes as the overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you entirely, your nails digging into his skin in a desperate attempt to ground yourself amidst the ecstasy.

"Gonna stuff you full of my cum, is that what you want?" His voice is deeper now, laced with a primal urgency that matches the frantic pace of his thrusts. You nod eagerly, your breath coming in short gasps as you cling to him, your entire being consumed by the need for release. "Yes…yes, please…"

Before you can fully comprehend what's happening, you feel the hot spurts of his cum painting your walls, each thick glob of creamy seed filling you up completely, leaving no empty space as his essence dribbles out of you and down his balls, creating a sticky mess. “God…such a pretty pussy, yeah, that’s it baby, take it.” His groans of pleasure echo in the room as he sloppily thrusts, your cunt milking him fully before he finally pulls out, his cock softening.

As he pants behind you, his breath tickling your neck, you squeeze around nothing, whimpering in confusion. Ignoring his cum oozing out of you, you finally dare to turn your head around. You watch in a daze as he stuffs his wet cock, your slick still clinging to his skin, back into his boxers and pulls up his trousers.

"...What...I-" you stutter, trying to clear your head, only for him to cut you off with a mocking pout and chuckle.

"What, baby? You thought I was gonna let you cum?" He smirks and fixes his hair. Looking so infuriatingly composed as if he hadn't just rocked your world while leaving you a disheveled mess with his seed leaking down your inner thighs.

"But, but you-" you start again, but he interrupts, turning you around carefully and pulling your skirt down lower than it was previously.

"None of that, don't be ungrateful. You're gonna tell me you didn't like getting your sweet pussy stretched, hm?" His tone is teasing yet firm as he tries to make you look as presentable as possible.

"I did, I just thought you'd...you know..." Your words trail off as you struggle to ground yourself, your gaze meeting his through half-lidded eyes.

"Thought I'd let you cum?" You weakly nod in response, swallowing hard.

"Foolish girl," he murmurs, his lips quirking into a small frown as you squeeze your thighs together, still feeling your clit throbbing for release.

"Come on now, let's go. I'll teach you a real lesson when we get home." He wraps his arm around your body, patting his pocket to check for your panties, not wanting Quincy to find them again and scold him like last time.

Taglist: @heartss444mj @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @youronlyonenini @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey

#kate's writing #michael jackson #michael jackson x reader #michael jackson x fem!reader #smut #x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #michael jackson imagine #king of pop

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malk1ns · 9 days ago

Text

december 21 @ devils, 3-0 loss

and what, exactly, was posted to the penguins youtube channel to cause the entire account to be terminated for violating terms and conditions?

Zhenya is making his escape down the tunnel at the Prudential Center when an arm reaches out and yanks him sideways into a side hallway.

“Hey,” he protests once he’s caught his balance up against the wall, frowning down at his assailant. It’s Jen, who never travels with the team anymore, and she’s got her arms crossed as she glares down the tunnel. “Jen, why you’re here? Almost kill me, like, what you do?”

“Oh, I didn’t do anything,” she mutters, but before Zhenya can ask for clarification she darts back out into the tunnel. When she returns, she’s got Sid firmly in hand, pinching him on his arm right where there’s no padded protection, and hard based on Sid’s wince.

Zhenya shrugs when Sid looks at him questioningly. He feels queasy, standing there in cowed silence with Sid as Jen ignores them in favor of stabbing furiously at her phone.

Jen really doesn’t travel with the team anymore, especially not for a quick overnight trip just a few hours away. Zhenya can’t even remember the last time she showed up unannounced like this.

“Mike, are you still there?” Jen says as she holds up her phone between the three of them. “Yeah, I’ve got Crosby and Malkin here. Sid, Geno, Mike from legal is on the phone.”

“Um,” Sid says, voice smoothed out to media-bland. Zhenya would chuckle if he weren’t so concerned. “Hi, Mike. Jen, what’s going on? We’ve got postgame and then the bus to the airport.”

“The team’s YouTube channel got taken down during the game tonight,” Jen says grimly. “For violating the platform’s terms and conditions. We got hacked, and whoever did it uploaded a video. We didn’t notice until we got the email that the account was terminated.”

No. Zhenya sways, hitting the wall with his back. When he looks to his side, Sid looks as pale and sick as Zhenya feels.

It’s not possible. It shouldn’t be possible. But Zhenya knows, deep in his gut, exactly what happened, what video it was the anonymous hacker put up.

“So,” Jen continues, eyes darting between the two of them, “is there anything you boys want to tell me?”

—

The video’s old, is the thing. You can tell from the very first frame, from the quality to the way Zhenya’s face looks, boyish and young still.

Young enough to record a sex tape with his new boyfriend without considering the consequences.

It’s not something either of them would do now, or ever had since. They repeat this over and over, to Jen and the growing phalanx of team lawyers that Mike keeps adding to the call—there’s only one video. Yes, they’re sure. Yes, they both knew that they were recording. No, they didn’t share it with anyone. No, they don’t know who has it, or why they’d post it now.

A few years ago, one of the hotels they stayed in for a roadie had an IT issue. The team found out later that their WiFi had been hacked. There had been a lawsuit, Zhenya remembers, something quiet and quick, and he and Sid had waited anxiously as days turned into weeks turned into months and the video never surfaced.

At the time, Zhenya figured neither his nor Sid’s computers got hit. He should have known that he wasn’t that lucky.

In the end, Jen doesn’t spend too much time lecturing them. There’s no point in scolding a pair of 22-year-olds that don’t exist anymore for making it in the first place, and when Zhenya hangs his head and apologizes for not telling her right away that someone could have accessed sensitive content, she softens. Plus, she and everyone else are more focused on what to do next.

The video hadn’t been up long, Zhenya learns. Just a few hours, really, but from what the team has been able to gather it had been watched a sickening number of times before the YouTube content team shut the whole account down. Sid had gone worryingly pale when someone on the line gave the number of views, and Zhenya reached for his hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing.

“Probably downloaded too,” Sid mutters, and Jen passes her hand over her face.

“We’ve got people checking social media, and…” she trails off, but Zhenya squares his shoulders and nods at her to continue. “Yeah, I mean. It’s everywhere. Not YouTube obviously, but Twitter, tumblr, even Instagram has some clips of it. There’s no way for us to stop it.”

Sid’s quiet for a long moment, but when he speaks it’s with his captain voice. “Alright. What do you want us to do?”

“Well, we’re working with YouTube to get the account back and see if they can help us track down who did it—we’ll press charges, of course, for stealing it in the first place and distributing it now. But now…you’re going to have to make a statement. Together, preferably, especially since…” She looks significantly down at where they’re still holding hands and sighs. “I wish you’d told me about this. Any of it, really. We could have made a plan. It’s not like you’re the only closeted gay men in pro sports. Half the teams in North America have contingency plans on file for shit like this.”

Before Zhenya can ask more questions, or even register a protest—he’s bi, not gay—Jen fixes them with a stern look. “You're going to say how shocked you are. You’re going to have to talk about how your private property was violated and something was stolen and distributed without your consent, and that you intend on pressing charges. And you’re going to have to apologize—genuinely, sincerely apologize—for the lack of judgment you showed in making the damn thing at all.”

She looks exhausted. Zhenya feels about two inches tall. “We can do at home?” he says, shifting in his skates. His feet are starting to feel uncomfortable in his damp socks. “Like, back in Pittsburgh, we do where it’s our rink?” Their media, he means—their reporters, the ones who have watched him and Sid grow up and feel kindly towards them, shield them when they can.

“You think I’d throw you to the wolves in some other arena?” Jen snaps, but she doesn’t really sound mad anymore. “Hell no. We’re getting you out of here as soon as we can, and you’re both to go straight home and stay there until we call you in tomorrow. We’ll have statements ready to review, and when you and your agents and whoever else are all comfortable, we’ll hold a presser.”

She looks between them, sagging a little. “I wish there was another way,” she says quietly. “Mike, anything else?”

The lawyers on the line all garble back something that must satisfy Jen, because she ends the call with a nod. “Okay,” she says, reaching out and patting their arms. “Go shower. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

—

The flight home is dead silent. The entire team gives them space, but Kris and Rusty both stop by their seats to grimace sympathetically at them, and Karl passes up some of the candy he imports by the ton from Sweden and never shares with anyone.

Zhenya drove them to the airport, so he white-knuckles them back to Sewickley, heading on instinct to his house, tucked away in the woods and behind a guarded gate.

Sid hasn’t said a word since they got out of the locker room. He spent the entire flight bent over his phone, typing back and forth with Pat and JP so feverishly that Zhenya worried over his wrist. He looks calmer now though, staring out the window at the dark highways with one hand on Zhenya’s thigh as they make their way back, thumb moving in a steady, soothing circle over Zhenya’s sweatpants.

“It’ll be okay,” he says when they’re finally tucked into bed, curled together in the cool dark of the bedroom. “I mean. It’ll suck for a while. And I don’t…JP said that you might need to stay in North America this summer, just to let things cool off. But we’ll get through it.” His voice is steady and sure, and Zhenya lets it wash reassuringly over him.

“I stay at your cottage,” he says, tangling their legs together and pulling Sid closer. “Take me up to castle, like, we pretend we’re hookup like you used to do.”

“It’s not a castle, it’s the Citadel,” Sid sighs, and Zhenya grins in the dark. Sid’s so easy to annoy. “That’s your big idea? We get busted for making a porno and you want to follow it up with someone catching us out in public?”

Zhenya digs his fingers warningly into Sid’s waist, a barely-there threat to tickle that still makes Sid giggle and squirm in his arms. “It’s good tape,” he mutters. “People lucky to see, like, it’s very hot. Maybe they want sequel.”

“Glad you’re ready to laugh about it,” Sid grouses, but his voice is light as he tucks their bodies together. “Get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be shit.”

“Watch video for reward at night,” Zhenya suggests, accepting the sharp jab to his belly with a grunt.

Sid didn’t say no, he notes as he drifts off.

#sidgeno #hockey rpf #my writing #my fic #24-25 series

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qqueenofhades · 2 years ago

Note

you don’t have to answer if this could cause some discourse, but what’s with all the republicans screaming about the documents biden had? that’s not the same situation, is it?

You tell me:

BIDEN

Is the sitting US President

Had one box of documents dating from his tenure as VP that, during a review by his own staff, were found to be classified

Immediately notified NARA (National Archives and Records Administration) that was the case, within one day

NARA came and retrieved them

The end

This "1,850 boxes!" thing Trump keeps screaming about refers to the UNCLASSIFIED documents that Biden put in his VP library

He does not own, physically possess, or use these documents; NARA does

TRUMP

Explicitly admitted (on tape) that as he was no longer president, it was illegal for him to possess these documents, much less encourage others to look at them, which he then did

Spent months refusing, ducking, ignoring, or obstructing requests by NARA to return the documents he took

Finally, when DOJ issued a subpoena, he also ignored/lied about it

This led to the raid on Mar-a-Lago and the retrieval of the documents, which had been carelessly stored in unsecured locations and shared with God knows who;

Some of these documents are still missing;

The indictment today explicitly spells out that these are extremely high level defense and national security documents, including nuclear, in regard to the US and foreign countries, and that there would be a substantial risk of harm to American interests or individuals if they were disclosed

Trump recruited staff and family in said months-long, ongoing attempted coverup, commiting more crimes (obstruction, etc) in the process

THIRTY ONE COUNTS UNDER THE ESPIONAGE ACT

That.... does not happen by accident. Or even because you took some papers and genuinely forgot to give them back.

Hey anyone remember Mike Pence?

I know, I try not to either

He was also found to have had a classified document at home recently

He returned it and therefore, was not charged

It's so easy to not get charged with 31 counts under the Espionage Act

I cannot emphasize enough how easy it is

Just give the documents back when they ask! Or better yet, don't take them at all! And definitely don't LITERALLY WAVE THEM UNDER PEOPLE'S NOSES AND BOAST ABOUT IT!

Republicans (at least the establishment ones; the crazies are in full-on alternate reality) know this very well

But don't expect to catch any of them saying so

Once again: 31 counts under the Espionage Act

At this rate we will be at 100 separate felonies by the time this summer is over

Or more

I'm not picky

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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biblio-smia · 1 year ago

Text

part one | part two | part three

every piece of you wants to stay, especially as abby looks up at you with big eyes and pouty lips, her small fingers holding onto yours like a lifeline.

"i'm sorry, sweetheart. tonight's not a good night."

abby gives you a heartbreaking look but she lets you go, sputtering out a reluctant, "okay."

there's a different look on mike's face (though you suspect it's in a similar strain) but you offer him a smile and a soft kiss on the cheek before he steps back inside and shuts the door behind you.

though regret settles in his chest quickly and only intensifies with each unanswered ring of the phone as he tries to calls max. mike groans as he hangs up the phone, glancing at abby with the realization that he's out of options. abby catches on, too, a glint in her eye as she smiles.

"i will work, and you will sleep..."

it's almost 7 pm. usually, you'd be eating dinner by now. before your few days of solitude, you'd be laughing and talking with abby while you did. now, for the past half-hour, you'd been standing in the door frame of your kitchen, trying to decide whether or not you should eat by yourself or drive over to mike's.

the landline ringing pulls you away from contemplating the very difficult decision.

"hello?"

"hey," mike's voice greets you and you feel your heart flutter. "are you busy tonight?"

you lean against the wall, twirling the phone's cord around your finger. "hmmm, i don't know. are you asking me out?"

mike is quiet for a moment, shocked silence - he'd almost forgotten how easily you make him blush. "not tonight, baby, i'm sorry."

you can hear the smile in his voice and you can't seem to frown.

"no, it's something more... serious. can you come over? it'll be easier to explain."

"give me ten minutes."

mike groans. "ten minutes too long."

you laugh, giving him a sweet bye before hanging up, picking up your keys and giving your kitchen a quick glance. really, at this point you should just move in.

you've barely arrived on mike's doorstep when the door swings open. you're in mike's arms before you can say anything, your arms wrapping around him like it was a natural instinct. mike's face presses into your neck, intoxicating himself with your scent. your presence is a comfort and your arms give mike the sense of safety he's been chasing for years.

mike sighs into your shoulder and you pull away to press a kiss on his cheek.

"something's wrong?" you guess.

mike nods, his arms pulling you close again for just a few more seconds before letting you go (not completely, though - his hand finds yours instantly).

abby's in her room and mike drags you into his. you take a seat on his twin size bed and he follows, making a dip in the mattress that makes your legs press against each other.

there's a book and a tape recorder on mike's bedside table. your eyes wander to the space above mike's bed, where something previously taped has been ripped off.

okay, it hasn't been that long since you'd been in here...

"okay," you nod, ready to listen to whatever it is mike has to say. you're patient as he hesitates, only momentarily, before he finally tells you a few very important details he'd left out from your last conversation. like how he's been reliving his childhood trauma for the past month or so.

you really try not to be upset. you hear the desperation in mike's voice as he tells you that dream... whatever-ing at freddy's has gotten him closer than ever to figuring it all out, finally. his hands shake as he pulls out a folded up paper from his back pocket. you could recognize abby's art from anywhere.

"and look! i... i don't know how, but they're connected, somehow. the kids- they posses the robots and they can talk to abby! they told her about garrett. they know something."

"mike." your hands are on his, urging him to slow down.

"look, i know it sounds crazy." mike's gaze is serious as he looks into your eyes, pleading for you to not think he was a total nut case. "i want you to come with us tonight."

"mike-"

"no, i'm serious. you can see for yourself." and mike is looking at you so desperately.

you sigh. "okay."

mike looks like he’s still ready to convince you, not expecting you to agree so easily.

and then his hands are on your face and he’s kissing you like his life depends on it.

“i seriously-” mike says breathlessly between kisses. “don’t know what i did in a past life to deserve you, but you are… amazing.”

and so you keep your grievances to yourself. you’re really not sure if you’ve gone one step forward or taken two steps back but mike is pulling you into the kitchen to have some of the soup he’s made and there’s really no time to gather your thoughts.

but there is time for the worry you've been feeling for mike to come back tenfold.

abby is somehow more excited than mike to hear that you’ll be tagging along tonight, jumping up and down and thanking you as if you’d just told her she'd won the lottery.

she’s still buzzing in the car and mike’s hand stays steady on yours as he drives. his face is grim as he looks ahead, his eyes occasionally rising to glance at abby and falling on you at a red light (mike would've completely missed the light turning green if it weren't for your hand squeezing his).

but that feeling in your chest only grows and it's starting to make you feel sick. you’re really not sure what you’ve just agreed to.

mike pulls into the front of freddy’s, parking line long since faded. it’s your first time, but even you can point out the cop car not quite fitting in with the rest of the picture.

“vanessa’s here,” abby comments.

"yeah," mike nods, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

"my friends talk about her sometimes," abby begins softly as you come up beside her, taking her hand.

"really?" you ask curiously. "what do they say?"

"that she's nice."

"abby," mike starts with a huff. "if i asked you to wait in the car, would you?"

"no." abby smiles before turning to you. "come on!" if her legs weren't so small, you're sure she would've lost you as she dragged you along.

"abby, wait!" mike calls uselessly.

"guys, i'm back!" abby announces as soon as she enters the large party room. "and i brought someone special!"

"abby."

"hey, vanessa!" abby is unstoppable, pulling you until you're on stage, right in front of her... friends.

"abby!"

you're frozen, standing there as you watch the giant mascots come to life, seemingly without anyone controlling them. they tower over you, large bodies whirring as they turn towards you. their expressions were limited, but you could tell by the way their eyebrows pointed and their mechanical eyes squinted that they did not like you.

"guys, it's okay!" abby assures before leaning in to whisper something. she giggles, and the animatronics... relax, returning to their normal expressions.

"okay, that's seriously freaky," you admit under your breath, watching as abby smiles and laughs with the mascots.

you stay by abby's side, reaching out to wrap a protective arm around her, eyes never letting any of the animatronics out of your sight.

there's a tug on your sweater and a look in abby's eyes you know too well.

abby presents to you, mike, and vanessa a rough blueprint for a fort made entirely by crayon. when abby reveals that she wants to build a fort for all of you, including the animatronics, you can't help but give her a look.

she doesn't seem to notice, caught up in all the excitement, but you catch mike's eyes and know he's sharing your sentiments.

"abby, look," mike starts, hand on abby's shoulder. "now, this is all really fun and exciting, but these things are big, and they could be dangerous, so i think we need to lay some ground rules, all right?"

"we're gonna watch our fingers and our feet," you add warmly.

"vanessa, what do you think?"

it's quiet as the two of you look up at her - mike has told you that vanessa knows a lot about freddy's (though he suspects she knows more).

"i think we could use the tables for the fort." vanessa smiles at abby, hanging back as abby runs off. mike's eyebrows furrow in confusion, but vanessa only throws him a triumphant look before joining abby.

"everyone, follow me! come on."

it's definitely a unique experience, building a fort with animatronics possessed by dead children. but they lift and build alongside you and soon enough, they're more endearing than terrifying.

you catch vanessa trying to bring a table over by herself, quickly placing yourself on the other end and helping her lift.

"thanks," she says quietly, tight smile over her lips. "so, you and mike...?"

"together," you confirm with a nod. "for a while." there's a bit of awkward silence and you really can't tell if there's something you have to clear. "if you were interested-"

vanessa laughs, but you don't give her a chance to confirm or deny.

"-he's pretty... clueless when it comes to those things." you offer a smile and vanessa shakes her head, mouth open to say something when a stray chair catches your eye.

"hey, careful," you stop abruptly before vanessa can trip. she looks to her right and kicks the chair away with her leg.

"thanks," she smiles.

"yeah." you smile right back.

"okay, they're kind of cute," you quietly admit to mike after bonnie's little fall.

"seriously? you too?" mike frowns and you can't hide your laugh.

"what? i'm just saying, i get why abby likes them so much."

mike shakes his head, disbelief in his face as abby waves the two of you over.

"i mean... they're still just kids, right?" you whisper to mike, voice holding a hint of sadness that you try to shake off, tugging mike along to congratulate abby on her genius engineering.

"i like it in here," vanessa calls from her spot on the other side of bonnie.

"me, too," you admit, fingers lightly interlaced with mike's.

"me, three," abby grins. "but... i think it's gonna rain soon."

"sounds like we need a roof," vanessa smiles as she sits up and you can't help but appreciate how she got along with abby. "i'll go see what i can find."

"we'll, uh... we'll come with you," mike calls, pulling you up from your spot so suddenly you almost fall on bonnie. "sorry!" you whisper, patting his arm gently.

"yeah, i take it back, this place is creepy again." you shudder as you enter the storage room.

"what are you looking for, exactly?" mike inquires as vanessa begins digging through a bunch of boxes.

"tablecloths!" she responds like it's obvious. "they used to keep 'em back here for big events."

"right. and remind me how you know that?"

"mike." you warn.

but vanessa won't answer the question and you can feel you start to suspect her knowledge of the place, too.

"found 'em." vanessa smiles as she begins digging into a box and pulling out some fabric.

"god, what is that thing?" your gaze lands on a very creepy looking piece of metal slouched in the corner.

"one of the older models," vanessa comments casually. you stare at her, watching her fold the fabric to make it manageable, barely even glancing over. no, that definitely wasn't common knowledge.

"don't!" vanessa's urgency makes you jump, your head turning to see mike almost stick his hand somewhere it definitely didn't belong. "i wouldn't do that. they're spring locks. they're on all the older ones. they were designed to keep the animatronic parts in place, so that, uh, a person could safely wear the suit. they tend to be pretty unstable. let's see..."

vanessa picks up a broom to demonstrate, sticking it right where mike's arm would've been.

the metal snapped it in a split second. the visual makes you and mike both cringe.

"like i said. unstable."

"is there anything else you'd like to tell us about, vanessa? cause you seem to know everything about this place." mike's words throw no direct accusations, but his tone does. "and what'd if abby'd come in here? what if she'd found that thing?" mike's voice rises and he's on vanessa's tail, forcing you to follow.

"you're the one who brought her here, mike, not me," vanessa spins around. "what i can't wrap my head around is why."

and mike has no choice but to share what he'd told you earlier. e sighs, glancing at you as he begins his confession.

"all right, look. i think that they know who took my little brother. i can't explain it, but when i'm here, i feel closer to garrett. my dreams are more vivid, and it... it's like i can almost..."

"change what happened?" vanessa offers and you're positive she knows something. not even you reacted this calmly.

mike nods.

"did you ask them about this?"

"yeah, i tried. i don't think they like me very much. but... they do like abby."

and that's when it all clicks. you remember your phone call with abby, how mike refused to take her with him. how something about that conversation with mike hadn't sat right. you'd thought it been the whole dead children possessing giant robots then, but you realize what it is now.

"so that's what this entire thing is about? using abby to solve this?" your arms cross now, eyebrows furrowing as you turn to mike.

"okay, i'm not using her, i just asked her to ask them-"

"mike, you said yourself this place is dangerous-"

"yeah, and we're watching her."

a silence settles on the three of you as you realize that, no, you aren't.

you lead the way as the three of you pick up the pace on your way out of the storage room, vanessa and mike picking up their discussion.

"mike. you need to drop this."

"i don't really see how that's any of your business."

"i'm tellling you, you need to let it go."

"who the hell are you?"

"just someone who's trying to help."

you burst out of the dark storage room, eyes trying to find abby in the dim light.

"abby!" you cry, watching her get closer to bonnie - a hand coming up to string his guitar.

"wait, abby, don't!" vanessa cries, but all of you are too late.

sparks fly and abby's on her back, unresponsive when you get to her.

"abby? abby!"

her eyes finally open as she coughs and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"what happened?"

"it's okay, abby. you just had an accident. you're okay." vanessa pulls abby up into a hug - away from you and mike and you watch as his face falls. "i'm so sorry."

vanessa helps abby up and you take abby's hand. "alright, princess, we're gonna get you home."

you have a feeling the argument between them isn't over, so you open up the backseat for abby and get in with her, letting her wrap her arms around one of you and use you as a pillow.

you were right - it wasn't over. though it really wasn't an argument as it was mike getting yelled at and it makes you guiltily reminiscent.

but you don't move into the passenger seat even as mike gets it, already letting him know you're gonna have your own talk once you get home.

"she looked so angry," abby comments tiredly, her head resting against you as you soothingly run your fingers through her hair. "why does everyone always look at you that way?"

mike sighs quietly and you swallow thickly. "let's try to get some sleep, abs." you say quietly, a hand coming up to rub her shoulder.

really, all you did was blink. your eyes flutter open and see the sun has risen during the short drive from freddy's. you're warm, whether it's from the sun's rays or mike's gentle hand on your leg. you're still half-asleep, not really hearing what he's saying, only able to notice how beautiful he looks with the sun shining on him like that.

you almost forget you're upset with him.

mike carries abby in and you let him tuck her into bed (something tells you he needs it more than you do). your feet quietly drag on the carpet, turning into mike's room and pulling on something cozier (and that doesn't have the dingy, lingering scent of freddy's).

you're lingering in mike's door frame, only a few feet away as mike exits abby's room and closes the door quietly. your arms are crossed and you might be frowning as mike bites his lip. you know he knows. you don't trust yourself to even sit on mike's bed, the temptation almost impossible to resist even out of the corner of your eye, so you make your way down the hall to the dining room and mike wishes he could watch you walk around in his clothes under different circumstances.

you sit in the sunlight, silently, and mike thinks he'd rather you yell at him than this. he picks at his cuticles, ripping at a hangnail until it's gone, a little red spot slowly taking its place.

birds chirp brightly outside as you gather your thoughts. you don't want this to be like last time and you're trying really hard to be patient with mike. you can't imagine what it's like to lose a sibling, but he could've lost another last night. wasn't that enough to snap him into reality?

"mike," you begin and mike hopes he never hears you say his name like that again. "i would never ask you to let something like this go," and mike sighs at the familiar request. "but it's becoming... too much."

mike looks up at you now, eyebrows furrowed, ready to be angry. "'too much?' what does that mean, 'too much?'"

you're careful with your next words, taking mike's hand softly, reminding him that you do love him.

"i mean, we got lucky. abby... abby could've gotten seriously hurt."

"okay, it wasn't like i forced her, she wanted to go."

"and you were against it until you realized those... things liked her!"

mike pulls back, his jaws clenched.

"you don't understand."

"so help me, mike. help me understand, because i'm really trying to."

"finding the man who took garrett is the only thing that matters to me!"

"so abby doesn't matter?" and mike falters. "i don't matter?"

mike's heart churns and his head drops. "that's not what i..."

"yeah," you sigh, crossing your arms. it's quiet again and mike can't manage to look at you.

"mike," there it is again. "this is becoming an obsession."

mike scoffs. "it's not-"

"yes, it is! tell me mike, how many nights have you been going there for the past... month?"

mike can't answer. he truly doesn't know. he's still trying to think of a response when your hands are on his face, forcing his eyes to look at you. your fingers sweep over the bags that have taken the spot under his eyes for a while now, wishing you could rub away the dark hues. you thumb over the hair on mike's face - he hasn't shaven in a while, but he hasn't taken care of himself in longer.

"you haven't been yourself, mike. this was the problem the first time. i'm just.. worried, alright?"

mike's heart sinks as he starts to see all of the stress on your face, too. your tired eyes and the small frown on your face. something in him aches and he regrets ever dragging you into this.

your eyes catch the time and you sigh as your hands drop mike's face.

"i have to get to work."

"w... work?" mike stammers. why would you agree to tag along if you had work in the morning?

"call me if you need anything. please." you press a kiss to mike's cheek before taking off, leaving mike to sit there in silence.

he sighs, rubbing his eyes. his body is exhausted but he can't rest. not until it's finished.

"hey, it's mike. i need your help."

that night, you linger in the living room. mike hasn't called, but you just can't shake the feeling that something's not right. you take a seat on the couch, that awful sense of dread in your stomach keeping you from doing anything else.

you're not sure when the exhaustion catches up, but when you wake up it's dark outside and you're not sure if the ringing you heard was just in your head.

and then your answer machine begins to play a bright voice you could recognize anywhere.

"my friend's taking me to freddy's! i don't know where mike went but i'm mad at him... what? okay! i have to go-"

the message ends abruptly and your hands feel clammy as you replay it.

it takes a few more minutes and more than a few deep breaths before you race to your car, fingers fumbling as you get in and hit the gas.

something's wrong. you can feel it.

you're barely in the parking lot of freddy's before you're out of your car, panting and having no idea how you'd made it without getting pulled over.

you approach the entrance and consider yelling out mike and abby's names on the off chance they'll pop out and assure you everything's okay. but before you can get too close, a figure is running out towards you, pulling you towards the side of the building and out of sight of the cameras.

"vanessa?" you're surprised to see her outside of her uniform, holding something that looks dangerous and with a frantic look in her eyes. "vanessa, what's wrong?"

her eyes fall on you as she tries to even out her heavy breathing and she looks wild.

"they've got abby."

"w... what do you mean? they like her, right? they won't hurt her?"

vanessa shakes her head quickly, her eyes teary and her voice quivering. "mike, he..."

"vanessa, please."

"they want to make her like them."

your heart's in your throat as you follow vanessa through the vents, dust and anxiety making it hard to breathe. you feel like you're going to be sick and you would push vanessa if you weren't sure that she was going as fast as she could. the vent cover is already off, making it easier for the two of you make it to the party room. bonnie and freddy are down on the stage, but you and vanessa are crouched and quiet, trying to listen for where abby could be over the sound of your own heart pounding.

foxy doesn't notice as you come up behind him and vanessa electrocutes him, your arms immediately fishing for abby as she screams.

"it's okay," you assure quietly, pulling abby in tightly, the relief you feel so intense tears almost slip out of your eyes. "you're okay."

"foxy!" abby calls out as she backs out of your arms, eyes sad for her friend.

"we're gonna get you somewhere safe so we can go help your brother, okay?" vanessa says worriedly, eyes checking over abby as her hand rubs her shoulder. her eyes fall on you and you nod, picking abby up and listening to vanessa's directions towards somewhere safe.

though there's not much you can do but chase after abby once she spots her brother on the floor, unconscious. you're on your hands and knees, eyelashes fluttering hazily, not quite able to process seeing your boyfriend bloodied and bruised. not quite able to fathom what it'll mean if he doesn't wake up. abby's screams don't quite reach your ears as her small hands try to shake him awake.

"mike, please." you don't even recognize the sound of your own voice, so desperate and shaky.

at last, mike stirs, weakly twisting onto his forearms.

"the drawings," he chokes out. "the yellow rabbit hurt your friends. show them what really happened."

mike's weight is on you as the two of you stumble through the dank hallways, lights flickering and mike panting. "here, here," mike directs and you pull him into a control room. mike stumbles as he reaches for a box, steadying himself against the dusty wall as he grunts, flipping the switch from off to on. you're not sure what it does but your arm is around mike again, pulling him out of the room as quickly as you'd gotten in.

there's a layer of sweat on your face as you push past a door, the last door that finally leads you back to abby.

she calls your names as she runs over, away from the man who's been behind it all. you let mike catch his breath for a second as you pull abby close, the three of you watching as the yellow rabbit is finally punished.

lights begin to fall, shattering the instant they hit the ground.

"alright, we gotta go." you scoop abby up, mike using you as support as you try to navigate your way out safely. you bite back a gasp once you see vanessa on the ground, pale and unresponsive.

"okay, okay." you set abby down and you and mike crouch down to each sling one of vanessa's arms over your necks. mike stumbles, almost falling as he tries to stand and your face tightens with worry.

"hold my hand," you instruct abby. "hold tight. don't let go."

the animatronics are dragging the yellow rabbit somewhere, but you can't spare any attention, focusing on not dropping vanessa and making sure mike is still upright. you're almost at the exit when the ceiling starts to come down, your own panting mixing with mike's pained grunts as the four of you finally make it outside.

"abby, i need you to open up the car for me, okay?"

abby nods and grabs your keys, running up ahead to click the button on your keys. the lights blink and she opens up the back for you and mike to sit vanessa in. you strip yourself of your sweater, laying it over vanessa as abby climbs into the opposite side. "hold her tight, alright?" abby nods, clicking her seat belt before holding onto vanessa's arm. good girl.

you help mike into the passenger seat, kissing the top of his head as he continues breathing irregularly, holding his side and gasping.

you're not the best example for abby as you skip your seat belt, shoving your keys into the ignition and turning them quickly. you peel out of freddy's, trying to remember the quickest route to the hospital. you're way over the speed limit, but not an ounce of you cares.

"keep putting pressure on it," you manage out, hands sweaty against your steering wheel. mike holds himself steady against your dashboard and your eyes constantly bounce between the road and mike, so distracted you almost drive on the curb as you pull into the hospital. it's okay, it's okay, you repeat to yourself as you head straight for the emergency room.

it'll be okay.

mike is cleared first. it's been a few hours and abby's asleep in the chair next to yours. the pounding of your heart kept you awake, tired eyes waiting expectantly each time a staff entered the waiting room.

finally, someone called you over.

"he's awake," the lady with the clipboard says with a smile and you gently shake abby awake. she's still half-asleep as the two of you are led to one of the hospital rooms, bright daylight shining in from the window making your eyes hurt.

but then you spot mike, raised up in his bed and awake and breathing and the weight on your shoulders is gone.

"mike!" abby cries happily, running over to throw her arms around her brother.

"careful, abs," you say softly, though you're barely containing your own excitement.

"no, no, it's okay. i can barely feel a thing," mike assures, pulling abby up into a tight hug.

you come up behind her, the tears you've been holding for hours finally finding their way out, relieving some of the pressure in your chest.

"hey, come here," mike says softly, his arms, still so strong, pulling you close. abby digs her way in again, head resting against your back until you pull her in, too. "i'm okay," mike whispers just before you all let go.

"yeah," you nod, wiping your face before abby can see. "you're okay."

the ride back home is exciting, the three of you making a stop for abby's favorite fast food before you make it home. abby is reluctant to let go of mike as you all trudge in, but her little eyes are closing and she'll wake up with a sore neck if she falls asleep on the couch.

you go straight for mike once she's tucked in. you're pressing him against the wall as you kiss him, careful not to hit any of the bruises on his face. there's no argument from him as his hands find your hips, his thumbs pressing softly into your skin. the both of you are trying to articulate your feelings through the desperate kisses you share, lips swollen and breathing heavy by the time you're finished.

but mike's had something on his chest for a while now, too.

"you were right," he breaths out, chest still heaving from the kisses. "about everything. i was stuck in the past and i wasn't focusing on what was right in front of me," mike's hands are on your face now, making sure you're looking at him (as if you could tear yourself away). "you and abby are the most important things in the world. and i... i love you."

your eyes are wide as you glance from one of mike's big brown eyes to the other, watching him watch you desperately. his eyes stay steady on yours, his fingers slowly thumbing over your face.

"i love you," he whispers again, reveling in the feeling of the phrase slipping off his tongue. "i love you." one more time, just for good measure.

and then you're grinning so wide, your face suddenly warm under mike's hand. your hands are on his, pushing them a little to catch mike in a kiss, completely different than before - this one's slow, the two of you dragging it out as long as you can, each trying to engrave the other in their memory.

but that's not where you want to live. so you pull away and cup mike's face in your hands, forcing him to be present with you again.

"i love you, you idiot. and i'm gonna make sure you know it every single day."

mike nods as he buries his face in your shoulder. he thinks he's crying and you might be, too. there's so many words he wants to say, but he can't quite figure out how to string them together. there's promises to for him to make and to see through, but for now, mike settles on one phrase, repeated into the material of your shirt. he's not even positive you can hear him, but he knows you know.

"i love you. i love you. i love you..."

final part!!! yay!!! i'm still not sure what to call this little mini-series, so let me know :p. & if you want any bonus content for them... requests are open! <333

(also, i am ignoring aunt jane because i have NO IDEA what happened to her in the movie)

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt angst #fnaf x reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #v + mike #v writes

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boombox-fuckboy · 7 months ago

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any podcast recommendations for guys Going Through It. im a sucker for whump and i’ve already listened to TMA and Malevolent sooo

Fiction Podcasts: Characters Going Through It / Experiencing the Horrors

Gore warning for most, here's 15 to get you started:

I am in Eskew: (Horror) David Ward is arguably the Guy Going Through It. Stories from a man living in something that very much wants to be a city, and a private investigator who was, in her words, "hired to kill a ghost". Calmly recounted stories set to Eskew's own gentle, persistent rain. The audio quality's a bit naff but the writing is spectacular. If you like the writing, also check out The Silt Verses, which is a brilliant show by the same creators.

VAST Horizon: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Thriller/Suspense Elements) And Dr. Nolira Ek is arguably the Gal Going Through it. An agronomist wakes from cryo to discover the ship she's on is dead in the water, far from their destination, and seemingly empty, barring the ship's malfunctioning AI, and an unclear reading on the monitors. I think you'll like this one. Great sound design, amazing acting, neat worldbuilding, and plenty of awful situations.

Dining in the Void: (Horror, Sci-Fi) So, the initial pacing on this one is a little weird, but stick with it. A collection of notable people are invited to a dinner aboard a space station, and find not only are they trapped there, but they're on a timer until total station destruction: unless they can figure out who's responsible. And there's someone else aboard to run a few games, just to make things more interesting. The games are frequently torturous. If that wasn't clear.

The White Vault: (Horror) By the same creators as VAST Horizon, this one follows a group sent to a remote arctic research base to diagnose and repair a problem. Trapped inside by persistant snow and wind, they discover something very interesting below their feet. Really well made show. The going through it is more spread out but there's a lot of it happening.

Archive 81: (Horror, Weird Fiction, Mystery and Urban Fantasy Elements) A young archivist is commissioned to digitize a series of tapes containing strange housing records from the 1990s. He has an increasingly bad time. Each season is connected but a bit different, so if S1 (relatively short) doesn't catch your ear, hang in for S2. You've got isolation, degredation of relationships, dehumanisation, and a fair amount of gore. And body horror on a sympathetic character is so underdone.

The Harrowing of Minerva Damson: (Fantasy, Horror) In an alternate version of our own world with supernatural monsters and basic magic, an order of women knights dedicated to managing such problems has survived all the way to the world wars, and one of them is doing her best with what she's got in the middle of it all.

SAYER: (Horror, Sci-Fi) How would you like to be the guy going through it? A series of sophisticated AI guide you soothingly through an array of mundane and horrible tasks.

WOE.BEGONE: (Sci-Fi) I don't keep up with this one any more, but I think Mike Walters goes through enough to qualify it. Even if it's frequently his own fault. A guy gets immediately in over his head when he begins to play an augmented reality game of entirely different sort. Or, the time-travel murder game.

Janus Descending: (Sci-Fi, Horror, Tragedy) A xenobiologist and a xenoanthropologist visit a dead city on a distant world, and find something awful. You hear her logs first-to-last, and his last-to-first, which is interesting framing but also makes the whole thing more painful. The audio equivalent of having your heart pulled out and ditched at the nearest wall. Listen to the supercut.

The Blood Crow Stories: (Horror) A different story every season. S1 is aboard a doomed cruise ship set during WWII, S2 is a horror western, S3 is cyberpunk with demons, and S4 is golden age cinema with a ghostly influence.

Mabel: (Supernatural, Horror, Fantasy Elements) The caretaker of a dying woman attempts to contact her granddaughter, leaving a series of increasingly unhinged voicemails. Supernatural history transitioning to poetic fae lesbian body horror.

Jar of Rebuke: (Supernatural) An amnesiac researcher with difficulties staying dead investigates strange creatures, eats tasty food, and even makes a few friends while exploring the town they live in. A character who doesn't stay dead creates a lot of scenarios for dying in interesting ways

The Waystation: (Sci-Fi, Horror) A space station picks up an odd piece of space junk which begins to have a bizzare effect on some of the crew. The rest of it? Doesn't react so well to this spreading strangeness. Some great nailgun-related noises.

Station Blue: (Psychological Horror) A drifting man takes a job as a repair technician and maintenance guy for an antarctic research base, ahead of the staff's arrival. He recounts how he got there, as his time in the base and some bizzare details about it begin to get to him. People tend to either quite like this one or don't really get the point of it, but I found it a fascinating listen.

The Hotel: (Horror) Stories from a "Hotel" which kills people, and the strange entities that make it happen. It's better than I'm making it sound, well-made with creative deaths, great sound work, and a strange staff which suffer as much as the guests. Worth checking out.

#audio drama #fiction podcast #rec lists #recommendations #I DID A LIST. Horray for procrastination.

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trevlad-sounds · 6 months ago

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For the Birds 9

12.07.2024

Intro 00:00 Lee Hannah-Thermal Pool 00:08 Runaway Horses-Condensa 04:01 Mike Dickinson-Wreckage 06:54 Willebrant-Inlet I 11:20 Darren Harper-Trickle 21:01 Time Rival-Mill St. + Offset Sequencers (Prairie Trail 6-21-23) 22:27 Ruby Singh-Lost in the Grasslands 26:09 Bethany Ley-Cycles Renew 32:21 Simone Gatto-Living In The Paradox Of Consciousness 36:45 Hans Kammerer and Marston Mortaine-Species 44:35 lofield-internal whisper 50:32

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hellfirenacht · 5 months ago

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Wing Man 15

Fic Summary: Steve ‘the Hair’ Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you’ll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

Chapter Summary: Everyone prepares for take off. The final chapter.

8.5k words

(Master List 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14)

“So, do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

Paige’s voice was professional over the phone, but that didn’t stop Eddie’s stomach from dropping at the question. It had been about a month since the audition, and even though Paige had said that she would get back to Eddie with an offer, the stretch of time had made everyone nervous. Corroded Coffin had been left hanging, wondering if this had been too good to be true.

“Bad news first.” Eddie said, rubbing his forehead.

“WR Records interfered, and they need more from you than the audition.” Paige sighed. “They remember you flaking out a few years ago and they want proof that you aren’t just going to turn tail and run.”

“I’m not!” Eddie protested. “I mean- we’re not! And I didn’t in the first place I just...”

“They don’t care why you didn’t come last time.” Paige continued. “You didn’t show up after I had stuck my neck out for you and that’s why we’re in this position to begin with.”

Eddie didn’t need the reminder. “So, what do they need? Do they want us to go to LA? It was hard enough getting everyone to go to Live Mike-”

“No, they don’t want you all in L.A. Not yet anyway.” Eddie could hear the exasperation in her voice, and he didn’t know if it was at him or the situation.

“So what-?”

“They want to see your stage presence. More than in just the audition tape we used. They want you to put on a show. A real one.”

“I take it that means that the Hideout doesn’t count?” Eddie asked.

“They want to see fans, Eddie.” she explained. “They want to see Corroded Coffin with the real target demographic. Not just a handful of drunks wincing at your latest cover of Paranoia.”

He knew she was right, even if it did suck. When it came to fans, you were the only real one that they had at the moment that would fit the description of what WR was asking for. How the hell were they supposed to suddenly find people to support them, let alone like them?

“Shit.”

“It’s not going to be easy, but it’s not impossible.” Paige said. “You just need to put on a good enough show that they’ll sign off on you with Left Turn.”

“Why does this feel like a punishment?”

“Because it is.”

“Shit.”

“It’s not a lost cause.” She continued. “They didn’t exactly give us a time limit on this, especially since we’re still setting up shop in Indiana. Everything is ahead of schedule and we’ll have everything set up by late May or early June.”

“So we just have to prove ourselves by Summer and we’re in?”

“Plenty of time for you to find some fans.” Page laughed.

“Yeah, finding fans in a town that thinks I’m a satanic cult leader. My fate rests in the hands of people who’d rather run me out with pitchforks than touch a die with more than six sides.” Eddie began lightly smacking his forehead against the refrigerator. “Sounds easy.”

“You’ll figure it out. Besides, there is good news to incentivise you.”

“Yeah?”

“When we get the green light from WR, Left Turn is willing to offer you a two record deal.”

Eddie froze with his forehead pressed against the cool exterior of the fridge for the moment. “Wait,” his head snapped up and he pulled the receiver away from his ear to stare at it, wanting to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. “Are you joking?”

“I don’t joke about business.” Her tone was serious. “We discussed it, and we really think Corroded Coffin is going to be the breakout band that gives Left Turn what it needs to no longer be the place where second rate bands play third rate songs for passive income for WR. We want you, Eddie. You all have something special.”

Special. The only time he had been called that was when the jocks called him Special Ed after he showed up for his fifth year of high school. Shit, who was he kidding, they called him that even before then.

“Two records?” Eddie repeated. Did they even have enough songs for that? Corroded Coffin had maybe five original songs, and at least two of them were incomplete.

“It'll be easier to go over the details with everyone in person. But the long and short of it is that if you can pull off a halfway decent show for the label, you’re in. And, okay, I know I said that they didn’t give us a time limit but we’d really prefer to start giving you all studio time next summer.”

“Wow that’s...” An eternity away? Too soon to even conceive? The most exciting and terrifying thing to happen to Eddie Munson, outside of stealing weed from a reefer truck and being in a shootout when he was eighteen?

“The best deal you can hope to get.” Paige finished his sentence for him. “Trust me, we are bending and breaking a lot of rules for you, Eddie. Most bands would kill for this kind of deal that we’re offering you.”

He believed it, because it seemed like every time Paige came to him with any kind of news about his band he felt like he stepped into an alternate universe.

“So do a show, get fans, and get signed.” It was a three step plan that would work in theory, and Eddie had created campaigns and encounters on flimsier ideas. Then again, right now he wondered if fighting a litch would be easier than getting people in this town to like him.

“We’ll talk more about this later. I’m heading back to California tomorrow but I’ll be back in a few weeks for the holidays and we can talk business then. Give the boys the good news and start working on a plan for your show.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good night, Eddie.”

“‘Night, Paige.”

Winter passed in a blur of slush and snow and dreary days, while you found your life suddenly filled with more warmth and light than you had ever expected. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, all came and went with Eddie. You got to know his uncle Wayne, and Eddie spent his weekends more often than not at your apartment, watching movies, listening to his tales from school, and discussing his band.

In January, you found yourself sneaking into Hawkins high on occasion to join Hellfire. You didn’t want to risk coming every single week, but when Eddie needed a sub, or when he said that he would be running a one shot, you were there. He had spent a night at your place helping you create a character, and you had admittedly gone overboard and ended up coming to the sessions with a new character each time because you had so much fun making them. You weren’t always clear on the rules, but you had enthusiasm and that counted for more in Eddie’s book, even if he had killed two of your characters.

In February he surprised you for Valentine’s day by playing you a song that he swore up and down he only tolerated because you liked it. In a card he bought was a paper heart that he had folded himself and had doodled hearts and skulls on.

“It’s not as good as what you make, but you always show interest in my stuff, so...” Eddie had just shrugged.

That was the first time you said ‘I love you.’ to Eddie Munson.

His brown eyes had gone wide, and he had stared at you in surprise at those words. He didn’t say it back, not then. You didn’t need him to. You knew how you felt about him, and by the look in his eyes, you had an idea that he wouldn’t be far behind.

Eddie had kissed you in response, and you don’t think that the two of you stopped kissing until you had to force yourself to pull away to give him his gift; a mix tape of both of your favorite songs and a tape recorder so that he could keep better record of all of the music he was trying to make.

It wasn’t the world, it wasn’t a stage, or a record deal, but it was from you.

You found that dating Eddie was easier in March and April. Spring had come and there was a lot more that you could do together outside of your apartment. The two of you fell into Lover’s Lake a handful of times, courtesy of Rick lending Eddie his boat and the two of you having horrible coordination. One weekend, the two of you drove past the old theater, and found it to now be fully closed and under some sort of construction as a radio tower was put on top of the building.

Fine, good riddance.

You remained Corroded Coffin’s number one fan, and had dragged Steve and Robin to the Hideout to watch them whenever you could. You tried to get other people to go see them play, and put up fliers for the band on the days where Keith wasn’t around. On the odd occasion you had seen a new face at the Hideout, but no one had stuck around for more than one set.

Eddie was getting discouraged by the time May came around, and it was breaking your heart. He was putting everything into this band, and even though the past few months they had worked so hard on new music, they weren’t able to find that spark that would get people talking about them. As much as he believed in this band, in their music, it wouldn’t matter if this town wouldn’t give him a fucking chance.

You... were not doing much better. Actually, if you were being completely honest with yourself, outside of spending time with Eddie and his friends and the occasional movie night with Robin and Steve, you were feeling more lost than ever.

What was it about finding yourself, that made you feel even more out of place? With Eddie you could breathe, so why did it feel like in every other aspect of your life you were treading water?

Because all of those stupid rom coms that you had watched also lied to you. Turns out that by getting a man, it didn’t magically fix anything wrong in your life. Not that it had ever been his job to fix you, nor was that your intention but still.

With Rocky Horror long gone, you had tried to focus your efforts on Corroded Coffin instead. It wasn’t the same. The harder you saw your boyfriend working towards his passions, the more you realized that you had no idea what the fuck you were doing with your life.

Being the assistant manager, who did more work than the actual manager sucked. You were pulling in so many hours with little to no reward. You nearly hit a breaking point when Keith tried to change your schedule so that you had to work on Tuesdays, and even though your day had remained intact, you still felt like you had lost somehow.

Time spent with Eddie was the only time you didn’t feel stuck at work. Even when you were hanging out with Steve and Robin, all they seemed to be able to talk about was work or Steve’s dating life, or whatever movie was on.

Everything came to a head one afternoon in May. It was Saturday, the busiest day of the week and you were staring at the door to your apartment with dread. Outside was the perfect day, finally warm enough to wear whatever you want without it being too hot or too cold.

And yet, you felt clammy all over, you felt frozen in place staring at the door. You could already hear customers complaining about movies, Keith blowing off any responsibility, and-

“I’m sick.” you said bluntly into the receiver.”I’m not coming in.”

You didn’t give Keith a chance to respond before hanging up and unplugging the phone.

The drive to Gareth’s neighborhood was a blur and you pulled up behind Eddie’s van. You sat there for a moment before forcing yourself out of the car and walked over to the garage.

The few times you were able to swing by during practice, it was usually a cacophony of music that echoed down the street, but not this time. You heard Eddie’s voice before you saw him with the band, they were all standing around and Eddie had his arms crossed.

Zack was the first to notice you and gave you a wave, and you waved back. Eddie turned around and you saw the way his face relaxed as you approached. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and kissed your forehead.

“Thought you had work today.” Eddie said.

“I...” you shook your head. “I don’t even want to talk about work right now. What’s going on over here?”

“Oh, we’re fucked.” Gareth shrugged, spinning his sticks.

“We aren’t fucked.” Eddie snapped.

“I don’t know man, we seem kind of fucked.” Jeff sighed.

“Fucked like a cheap whore.” Zack added.

“Stop!” Eddie snapped, his eyes narrowing at his band. He removed his arm from around you and crossed his arms. “We aren’t fucked until I say we’re fucked.”

“...Fucked.” you said, and everyone looked at you. “....I felt left out.”

Eddie sighed from deep in his soul. “We have no venue, and no steady following except for you.”

Ah, this again. You had been hearing about this problem for the better part of four months now. You honestly didn’t know what WR Records expected from a bunch of high schoolers with no money and no idea how to put on a show. You’d been here for this conversation so many times that you could practically recite everyone’s responses.

“Let’s just... everyone take five. I need a smoke.” Eddie said.

“Take it to the street, mom is gonna kill me if she finds another one of your butts on the lawn.” Gareth said.

“Right, right.” Eddie grabbed your hand and led you to the side of his van as he pulled out his cigarettes.

“Still no idea about a show?” you asked, leaning against his van.

“Not a clue.” Eddie took a long drag of his cigarette and exhaled. “But it’s nothing you haven’t heard a thousand times over at this point.”

“I’m surprised that you haven’t used the frustration to write any new songs.”

“It’s hard to fight demons when they won’t even give you a battlefield.” He gave a subtle laugh. “At this point I’d rather be fighting a real demon.” Despite his smile, you saw the stress in his eyes, and that worried you.

“How would you even do that?” you asked. “Baseball bat with nails? Molotov cocktail? The power of friendship?”

“Obviously through the power of metal. I’d play a guitar solo so sick that a demon’s head would explode.”

“Effective.” You nodded.

“So... why aren’t you at work?” Eddie asked, flicking his cigarette. You watched as the ashes fell to the ground and disappeared on the tar of the street. “It’s not like you to play hooky. Am I really that bad of an influence on you?”

“It’s not important-”

“Please.” Eddie turned to you and looked into your eyes. Sometimes you hated how intense his eyes could be, it was like he could see straight through you. “I’m so sick of hearing about my own shit. What’s going on, Sweetheart?”

Your gaze tilted up to the sky, it was a perfect shade of blue that you’d only see in photo books or inspirational posters in a library. “I... am so sick of feeling stuck.” you started, and from there a dam burst. “I’m sick of being at work, I’m sick of Family Video. I’m so tired of just waking up and going to work and coming home, just to turn around and go back to work. Keith is making my job so fucking difficult, I don’t even get to be on shift with Steve and Robin for more than maybe two or three hours a week, and if I have to hear one more person complain about movie ratings I might actually throw up.” Eddie reached out and rubbed your back. “I just... everyone else has something they can do. Steve does sports, you’re about to record an album, Robin knows like, 5 languages, and I’m...”

You didn’t want to finish that sentence. You didn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“I want to quit.” you admitted. “I wish I could just quit and throw caution to the wind and give some sort of big dramatic speech about sticking it to the man and running off into the sunset. But I can’t.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie said, finishing off his cigarette and crushing it under his worn sneaker. There was a small hole in the side of the shoe, threatening to expose his sock which probably also had a hole in it. “You’re smart, you should be able to get any job in town.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, and I know you’re right and that sucks.” You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I want to leave, but I feel stuck, and I feel stuck because I won’t leave. It’s a vicious cycle.”

“Says the girl who kept showing up to my shows after I blew her off at the arcade.” Eddie nudged you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders again. “You had no problem going after what you wanted back then.”

“I knew what I wanted back then.” you looked up at him. “You were an easy choice, Eddie. Right now, I just know what I don’t want.”

There was a look in his eyes that was hard to read. Eddie was always a bit of an enigma, even after almost six months of dating. He was so expressive, and it was usually so easy to tell how he was feeling at a glance but there were moments like this, where he’d look at you with that distant expression and you couldn’t help but wonder what he was really thinking.

“And what don’t you want...?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t want to feel stuck, and I don’t want to hear people complain about movies ever again.” you said firmly.

HIs expression continued to be unreadable and he looked down at the smashed cigarette butt by his feet. “You know... if this doesn’t- I mean if we can’t get our shit together to do this deal then we might be stuck.”

“Eddie-”

“I’m just saying that I get it if you signed up to be with some big time musician. If this falls through, I don’t want you to be stuck with more than just your job.”

“Eddie.” You said again, sharply. “I liked you that first night at the arcade when you blew me off, I liked you the night I first saw you play, and I like you now because you’re you, Eddie. Of all the things I’m stuck with, you are the thing I choose to be stuck with. Everything else in my life might range from mediocre to shitty, but you are the one thing I’m sure about right now.”

“Are you sure?” Eddie asked.

You grinned wickedly at him. “I’m not stuck with you, you’re stuck with me.” Your arms wrapped around his waist tightly. “Sorry, no refunds. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You are a brave woman.” He said.

“Not brave enough, apparently.” You leaned against his chest and sighed. “Bleh.”

“Are you two done making out yet?” Jeff’s voice carried over, and you remembered that you had technically crashed their rehearsal. “We want to at least play something before Gareth’s mom runs us off.”

“Eddie’s putting his pants back on!” you called back, resulting in a mix of laughter and groans. “Looks like the show must go on.”

The two of you made your way back to the driveway, and Eddie went for his guitar. You took a seat on the driveway, feeling the warm, rough concrete against your palms.

You watched them take off and fly, the same way you had seen over and over again. Despite their frustration with the lack of venue, they lost themselves in the music, using it as a way to battle the demons in their own heads.

You wished you could feel that way too. To be able to feel that power inside of yourself and just let go and lose yourself in the moment. Your eyes closed and you leaned back, tilting your head towards the sky. In your mind, you visualized your own world with their music, one where fighting demons was easy, and that any problem could be solved with some sort of sick solo.

Your mind drifted, as you imagined demons taking over Family Video, and you and Eddie fighting them off while the store was being destroyed. That was a nice thought. There wouldn’t be a lot of room in the store though, it’d be better to take the high ground, maybe fight on top of the strip mall? Once the plaza was thoroughly destroyed in your mind, you moved the battle elsewhere; the old movie theater.

No, you still cared for the old theater. But you did still have it out for one Chris Morrison. You could imagine him with his horrid toe colored hair as some sort of ugly demon and kicking him in the nuts again, only this time in your mind it came with a satisfying pop sound. He’d never be able to harass any women ever again.

You let Corroded Coffin’s music be the catharsis needed after a long and stressful winter. As they played you imagined beating the shit out of every grievance you’ve ever had, and some that weren’t even yours. Eddie’s voice carried such weight as he sang about a demon who had demanded that he drop his weapons and tried to banish him-

The idea struck you like lightning, and charged every single nerve ending in your body. You felt the hair on your neck stand up and your body prickle with goosebumps as your eyes snapped open.

Oh, shit. This was going to be a bad idea. A brilliant idea, but probably a bad one. One that might get you all in trouble.

But it was so stupid, it might actually work.

Eddie’s eyes met yours and he must have seen something in the way you were staring so intensely at him. He motioned for the band to stop after the song they were playing.

“You’re glaring a hole in my head, sweetheart.” He said. “Was it that bad?”

You shook your head. “I have an idea for your show. It’s stupid, and could get all of us in trouble and might be illegal. I can’t say for sure.”

Eddie stared at you, looking slightly worried. “Care to share with the class what you’re thinking?”

“Can’t be worse than some of the schemes we’ve come up with.” Jeff said.

Eddie helped you stand up, and you told them exactly what you were thinking, and how it would be stupid and reckless but that you had an idea about getting an audience, and a large one at that.

They were all quiet as they listened and thought about what you were saying. “That’s... jesus, you’d really help us do that?”

“Do you think you can pull it off?” you asked. “Don’t worry about me. What do you all think?”

The boys looked at each other, and you could feel the air crackling with excitement.

“You’re right, it’s a stupid plan.” Jeff said. “But...”

“Mom would actually murder me.” Gareth said, but despite his words, there was a wicked grin on his face.

“We’re so fucked.” Zack muttered under his breath.

You looked at Eddie. Eddie looked at you. “Well?”

Eddie’s frown slowly moved up into a grin. “That’s pretty risky. You sure you want to do this?”

“It’s easy to go for something when you know what you want.” You grinned back.

The rest of the day was spent hammering out all of the details of this plan. For the first time since your audition for Rocky Horror so many months ago you felt excited, like you were really a part of something. You felt... real.

Eddie’s excitement over this plan didn’t wane for the rest of the day. He followed you back to your apartment after rehearsal, and decided that actions spoke louder than words to show his gratitude towards you.

The sun was just starting to set and Eddie was sleeping on your chest now. Your fingers were running through his hair as he clung to your naked form, while you stared at the ceiling. In a bit you’d probably wake him up for dinner, but for now your mind raced and went over the plan over and over again. The rational part of you was screaming that this would be a bad idea, but when you glanced down at Eddie, and remembered how he looked when he was with his band, all doubts went away.

If you could do one thing right, it would be this.

You arrived at the Munson trailer far earlier than you’d like to help Eddie get ready for graduation. Eddie had spent the morning with you sitting on his bed and him taking off and putting on every single shirt he owned. Normally you wouldn’t mind seeing him constantly removing his shirt, but this wasn’t the time. Eventually you had to step in and hand him his Hellfire Club shirt.

“This is your legacy, Eddie.” you said. “This is what you’re wearing today.”

Eddie’s curls were being especially unruly after he’d showered last night and slept in wet hair. You pulled his hair back into a low ponytail to try and get his graduation cap to stay on, but he hated how it looked. He shook his hair free and you opted to use some bobby pins you had laying in the bottom of your bag instead to keep it on.

Eddie needed to be at the school early, and you rode along with him with the promise you’d save Wayne’s seat. Your boyfriend was practically bouncing in his seat as he drove to the school and parked. The two of you went over the plan one more time, and you both adjusted the walkie-talkies that the two of you had borrowed from the freshmen.

You walked with Eddie to the auditorium where graduates were being told to meet up.

“You got this, Eddie.” you said, squeezing his hands. “No matter what happens today, I’m proud of you, okay?”

He leaned in and gave you a kiss, the tassel from his cap hitting your face as your lips met. “I don’t think I could have pulled this off without you.”

“I know you could have.” you said.

“Maybe, but it’s a hell of a lot better with you helping out.” Eddie hugged you and kissed your forehead. “I’ll see you on the other side, mk? In two hours, you can officially say that you are no longer dating a high schooler.”

“Oh good, because I was getting worried that at some point I was going to be put on a list.” you snorted. “Knock ‘em dead, Eddie.”

“Trust me, that’s the plan.” He said before disappearing into the auditorium.

With that, you made your way to the football field where the actual ceremony was being held while the graduates did one last practice run in the school. You made your way to the bleachers and made your way to the very top, near the announcers booth and set your bag down next to you.

People filed in steady for the next while. In the front row of the bleachers, you saw Steve and waved to him. The freshmen were all gathered in a group a few rows over, and the rest of Corroded Coffin wasn’t too far from them. You kept scanning the crowd diligently before spotting a girl with short dark hair chatting with a few members of the baseball team. Perfect.

Wayne showed up about a half hour later, as the stands were starting to fill up with people. He stopped to speak to a woman you had seen around the trailer park the few times you had visited, as well as the tall woman next to her. You moved your bag as he took a seat next to you, and he looked over the field.

“You know, I never did make it to any football games in my day.” he said. “Too noisy.”

“I went to a few, but mostly stayed because of my friends and the snacks.” you replied. In the months that you had been dating Eddie, you had gotten to know his uncle fairly well. He was a quiet man, a bit stoic, but surprisingly easy to get along with. You had a soft spot for his dry sense of humor as well.

“Didn’t think I’d ever come to one of these.” Wayne continued. “I always had hope though.”

You had a feeling that he wasn’t talking about football anymore.

“He worked hard.” you said. “He really wanted it this year.”

“Well, he finally had some motivation to finish this year.” Wayne pulled a cigarette from his pocket.

“Yeah, the promise of a record deal will do that.” Behind you, people were going into the speaker booth and started playing some filler music before the ceremony started. You took a second to look up, confirming that things were in place.

“I ain’t talking about that.” He shook his head and looked over at you. “My boy isn’t exactly the best at expressing himself, but it was more than just his band that gave him that final push.”

You felt your cheeks warm up and you shook your head. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did more’n you think.” he continued. “He used to only talk about his band and his games. He never did talk much about the future, always avoided it. Eddie talks about it now, and he can’t say more than two sentences without including you in it.”

Eddie thought about a future with you? He talked about you in the future tense with his uncle? The idea made you feel flustered more than you cared to admit.

“I’m glad he’s with you.” Wayne concluded. “You’re a good influence on him.”

The music to cue the ceremony started, which was a blessing as you had no idea how to respond to that. Did Eddie really see a future with you...?

Everyone in the bleachers started cheering as the graduates in a sea of Tiger’s green made their way to the field and took their seats in the folding chairs. The next thirty minutes were filled with boring speeches by the faculty as they all stroked their own egos about how amazing the school was and how good of a job they did at teaching the students.

As you watched, you saw someone in the seats move from one row to the row in front. A few minutes later, they did it again, moving down the row this time.

“What the hell is that boy doing?” Wayne said, realizing before you that it was, in fact, Eddie, who was seat hopping from the back row.

It was the strangest game of Frogger that you had ever witnessed as your boyfriend moved from seat to seat for the next ten minutes before finally settling in the third row and not moving from then on.

“What do you think that was about?” you asked, but Wayne just shrugged.

After what felt like an eternity, it was finally time for the graduates to walk the stage. You politely cheered for most of them, but you were here for one person only.

Okay, fine, two people. You hadn’t forgotten that Robin was also graduating. But you knew it your heart that right now you were here for-

“Eddie Munson.” Anyone with ears could hear the waiver of disdain in Higgin’s voice as he called out the name. You had never heard his name said with such contempt.

The cheers for Eddie were noticeably quieter than any graduate from the general crowd. You decided that it wasn’t a bad thing as you and the rest of Hellfire cheered and screamed loudly for him. You were shameless, hollering and clapping as Eddie strode across the stage as if he owned the place and stopped in front of the principal.

True to his word, Eddie snatched the rolled up piece of paper out of the older man’s hand and everyone in the bleachers gasped and laughed as Eddie flipped him off. He then turned to the audience and, in true Eddie fashion, threw up his fingers like devil horns and hissed before cackling like a mad man and running off the stage.

You stood up and asked Wayne to watch your things as you quickly made your way down the bleachers, meeting him behind them. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.

“Congratulations, Eddie.” you said as he hugged you tightly,

“If you hadn’t helped me study, I might not have made it.” he admitted.

“You could have.” you said. “Also, what the fuck were you doing down there?”

“Jocks cut me off in line, and I had to find a way to get to my assigned seat.” Eddie took off his cap and gown and you took the items and folded them up carefully. “Now, are you ready for the most metal concert that Hawkin’s High school has ever seen?”

“Everything is all set up and ready to go.” you said. “Wait for the signal. I’ve already gotten the all clear that it would just take a flip of the switch and everything will swap over”

Eddie’s smile lit up his face, excitement radiating off of him now. “Let’s do this.” he handed you his diploma and you expected him to run off to get in position for the plan, but instead he stayed still for a moment just staring at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Don’t tell me you’re getting stage fright now.”

His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into a deep kiss. You barely understood what he was doing, but you kissed him back on reflex. You reached up and grabbed his shirt, holding onto him. You had never thought you were the type to make out with someone under the bleachers, but it seemed there was a first time for everything.

“I love you.” he said quickly. “I’ll see you after the show.”

That was when he turned tail and ran off, leaving you dazed and stunned at his drive-by confession.

I love you.

Those three words echoed in your head as you were left speechless and frozen in place.

Oh.. that prick. He thinks that he can just drop that on you and then run away?!

He can and that’s the worst part. You would have to kick his ass and kiss him senseless later. For now, there was still a job to do.

Eddie’s kiss haunted your lips as you made your way back up the bleachers and set his items down next to Wayne.

“What is this?” he asked, frowning at you.

“So, I don’t have any time to explain.” you said. “And you are about to take back everything you said about me being a good influence.”

Wayne’s frown only deepened, but Higgins was now shaking hands with the last student on stage. You turned and made your way to the announcement booth where Dustin was waiting for you by the door.

“Ready to do something stupid and reckless that’ll get us into every sort of trouble ever?” you asked.

“Is that a hypothetical question?” he smiled at you and the two of you made your way into the booth.

Being friends with Steve meant that you were friends with Dustin, Mike, and Lucas. By knowing the kids, you were vaguely aware of their siblings.

You had never officially met Johnathan Byers or Nancy Wheeler. If anything, Nancy was more of a mythical being, the ex of your best friend. You knew that she and Steve had famously dated, broke up, dated again, broke up for good, and now she was dating the man next to her holding a camera. The whole thing seemed messy, but this wasn’t the time for that.

“You might want to get down to the field if you want to get any good pictures of this.” Dustin said to Johnathan.

“Wait, what’s going on?” you asked. This had not been part of the plan that you recalled. You had asked Dustin for help as he had been involved with the AV club, which meant that he knew how to work the booth but Nancy and Johnathan hadn’t been anywhere close to this plot.

“Dustin told us what was going on.” Nancy said, holding a pen and paper. “And we were promised an exclusive if we help.”

“You-” you shook your head. “You want to do a story on this?”

“A graduation being taken over by a small town underdog band that could get signed?” Nancy asked. “Eddie is about to do something so stupid that it could get him run out of town. I’m going to make sure that this gets spun the right way.”

“You said you needed a show and an audience.” Dustin shrugged, making his way over to the booth. “Corroded Coffin needs press. I called in a favor. Now get over here, we’re running out of time.”

Shit, the kid was right. Higgins was in the middle of his closing speech and you didn’t have much time left. You could already see some parents gathering their things to beat traffic.

Now or never.

Dustin flicked a switch and suddenly Higgin’s microphone cut off. He kept talking for a moment before realizing that his voice was no longer echoing across the field. He tapped the microphone a few times before looking up towards the announcement booth.

You pulled out the walkie talkie. “Paper Crane to Corroded Coffin, are you ready? Over.”

There was a beat before static crackled through the device. “Corroded Coffin to Paper Crane. We’re ready.”

“On my signal.” you said, and set the walkie talkie down.

Dustin flipped a switch and music started blasting again, this time instead of the cheesy family safe hits that had been playing before, the screeching guitar of Metallica echoed across the grounds. You had no doubt that this was going to be heard for miles.

With this distraction, Corroded Coffin stormed the stage with their instruments, setting up in record time just like they had practiced. Higgins was too stunned to speak for a moment, before seeming to sputter and yell at the boys.

That’s what you were assuming anyway, as you could only see him and in no way hear him.

Eddie didn’t seem bothered at all as he swung his guitar around so hard that you were sure it would have caused some serious damage had it actually hit the man.

Dustin hit your arm to get your attention. “Introduce them.” he said, pushing the booth microphone towards you.

“I’m sorry, what?” you asked.

“Introduce them! This is a concert, you have to tell everyone who they are!” He said again. “You said you’d give the signal so give it!”

“What are you talking about, that’s their job! I’m just here to push the buttons and-”

“Just do it!” Dustin pushed the button to turn on the mic and shoved it in your face.

For a moment, you were suddenly back on stage at the middle school talent show, with the hot lights beating down on you. You were back in the theater with Chris Morrison before you even had a chance to audition. You were in the back row (fuck the back row) dancing and yelling at a screen with dozens of people as you watched a movie you had seen a dozen times before.

Something inside of you snapped and you grabbed the mic.

“And here they are to close out todays’ ceremony, let’s all put our hands together for Hawkins High School’s favorite Hellions- Corroded Coffin!”

The reception to your introduction ranged from luke-warm to confused. You saw a few people clapping, but most people had no idea what was going on.

If the reception put off the band, they didn’t let it show for a moment. They took off like a rocket, flying high with a bust of energy as they launched into their first song. Higgins stood there, gobsmacked as they played, his face a bright shade of red that you could see even from here. He attempted to yell, but it was no good.

Then, the oddest thing started to happen.

It started with the graduates, as they all stood up and started to cheer. You tore your eyes away from your boyfriend long enough to see people clapping. You weren’t sure if they thought that Corroded Coffin was actually good, or if they all just thought it was part of the ceremony but it was happening.

Higgins turned to the crowd, still fuming with anger, but froze as people started to warm up to the band on the make-shift stage. Slowly, the excitement moved backwards from the Graduates on the field to the bleachers.

Sure, there were some parents who were quickly grabbing their kids and ushering them out of the area as quickly as possible, lest the Devil take their soul for daring to be in the same vicinity of someone playing an electric guitar. But be it by genuine curiosity, novelty, or seeing Corroded Coffin as you saw them, people were staying.

With the court of public opinion swaying in their favor, Higgins had no choice but to storm off the stage in a huff. That’s what you liked to believe at least.

Corroded Coffin flew through two songs without stopping, so deeply in the zone they seemed to forget where they were and who they were playing for.

As the guitar shrieks came to a close, Eddie signaled for his band to stop.

He looked out at the crowd of people, who were (for the most part) cheering for him. His eyes went wide, and you wondered if anyone at school ever gave him any sort of positive attention like this outside of his friends.

Stunned for just a moment, he grabbed the mic and leaned forward. “Thanks everyone, we have one more song before we close out this whole thing.” he said. “For the past, oh, six years, I’ve been fighting my way out of the bullshit that is Hawkin’s High school. It took me longer than expected but now I’m proud to announce that your resident Freak is now going to be set loose on the town during regular school hours.” Eddie grinned wickedly, and you saw a few parents and students shift uncomfortably. “Get ready Hawkin’s because this year Corroded Coffin has officially been signed!”

Cheers and confusion rang through the stadium. You couldn’t stop smiling and you felt your eyes start to water. You were just so damn proud of Eddie in that moment.

Eddie’s gaze moved to the announcer booth, and you could feel that he was looking at you. He extended a finger towards you and called out your name.

“This one’s for you.”

You felt your heart jump in your chest and your face heat up a million degrees. Eddie’s guitar started on a riff that you had heard so many damn times it was nearly seared into your brain.

But, you hadn’t heard them play this song before. The idea had always been three songs, but this song was not part of the line up. When had they learned this one? When had they practiced this one?

You held your hand over your mouth as Eddie started to sing.

“It’s astounding. Time is fleeting... Madness takes its toll...”

There was still a part of you that stung thinking about those days at the theater, but seeing Corroded Coffin on stage, playing something that he knew had meant so much to you...

Rocky Horror. Eddie was singing Time Warp from Rocky Horror.

That absolute jerk. How dare he tell you that he loves you and then runs off before you could respond, and then plays this?!

This just confirmed what you had known for months now. You were in love with Eddie Munson.

When Officer Hopper came up to the booth, looking at you, Dustin, and Nancy, he seemed more annoyed than angry. You quickly surrendered the controls to him, letting him pull the plug on Corroded Coffin. You loved Eddie, but you also wanted to minimize whatever trouble everyone was about to get in.

You were escorted off the campus by Hopper who said that Higgins wouldn’t press charges as long as you and Eddie swore to never step foot on the school grounds again. Easy enough, with Eddie’s diploma safe in hand now.

Wayne had laid into Eddie for being an idiot, but it was clear his heart wasn’t really in it. How could it be with Eddie smiling like a maniac the whole time, still high off the thrill of his takeover of the school that had shunned him for so long?

There were pictures taken. In true Eddie fashion he held his diploma proudly as he flipped off the camera. A copy of that photo would sit on your bedside table for many years after that.

Paige dropped by the Munson trailer that night, cackling maniacally at how insane Eddie had been for using his own graduation for the concert. Eddie, of course, had given you all the credit for the idea.

Corroded Coffin did not get the front page, despite Nancy Wheeler’s best efforts. They did get the starring headline for the entertainment section though. Your name was even mentioned in the article, as Nancy couldn’t leave out Eddie’s dedicated song to you.

That article was also framed and hung up in your small living room, and after reading it at least once a day, it wasn’t long until you had it memorized.

You couldn’t pinpoint the day that Eddie officially moved in that summer. At one point he came over for a movie night and just... never left. It became so easy to just have him stay the night, wake up next to you, fight over stupid things like how late he stayed up to play guitar or what to make for dinner.

And, of course, as Corroded Coffin’s appointed emotional support fan, you were there the day that they stepped into the recording studio, this time as an officially signed band.

When Paige had said that they had been setting up a new studio near Hawkins, the last place you expected for that to be was the old theater. You had froze outside of the building, the marquis had been torn down, and the radio tower now loomed over you instead. You had avoided being anywhere near this area since that day in November, and now here you were with your boyfriend as he got to live out his dream in the theater where you had one day hoped to live out yours.

Jealousy wasn’t the word you were sure you were feeling. There was something there, maybe more akin to disappointment or irony at the situation. Whatever it was, you shoved it down. The past was the past, and were the odds that Chris would be there...?

Pretty high, actually.

Chris was standing next to his dad, glaring a hole in the newly installed carpet of what had once been the theater lobby. Paige shook Papa Morrison’s hand and took some keys from him. You froze when Chis looked up and made eye contact with you, but Eddie squeezed your hand protectively and all Chris could do was cross his arms and follow his dad out of the theater with his tail between his legs.

You’d learn much later from Robin (who heard from Columbia), that Papa Morrison had never intended to keep the theater, just hold it to sell out to someone else. Rage hadn’t been the feeling you had felt, but something between anger and disappointment conflicted with the fact that Corroded Coffin was finally getting the start they deserved here.

Summer had never felt so bittersweet.

It wasn’t all disappointment though, there were certain perks that came with being with the band. Every time they were in the studio, you found yourself talking to the staff, learning more about how studios worked, and that this specific studio was special. The radio tower that had been placed on top wasn’t just for show, Paige had decided that the best way to get Left Turn on the radio was to become a 2 in 1 radio station.

You were enamored instantly.

While Corroded Coffin worked with writing and playing, you found yourself bothering anyone who would talk to you until Paige decided that it would just be easier to allow you to intern with them on the radio side.

You didn’t even bother giving Keith your two weeks notice. Your ugly polyester vest was dropped off with your last movie rental and keys. You hugged Steve and Robin, thanked them for everything that they had done for you and never looked back. Thankfully, you didn’t have to go to that store ever again, as there was a new rental chain called Blockbusters starting up right down the street from your home.

“So, they’re really going to let you play Time Warp as your bonus track?” you asked one night as Eddie restrung his guitar. “I thought there’d be like, copyright stuff or something like that.”

“Paige explained it to me, it’s a bunch of weird legal loopholes but that’s the plan.” He said, plucking one of the strings.

“And you’re good with it?” you asked, taking a strand of his hair and twirling it around your finger. “It’s not exactly about fighting demons or D&D.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the song that helped us get signed.” Eddie reached up to take your hand in his, and you laced your fingers together. “I have a soft spot for it.”

“I hope you all get to shoot a music video for the cover.” you smiled. “I would pay anything to see you in Tim Curry’s lingerie.”

“Not in a million years.” he laughed and kissed your hand before letting go. He fiddled with his guitar, checking the tuning as he started playing. You always found the electric guitar a little funny sounding, especially when it wasn’t plugged in.

Eddie’s voice had gotten better over the last few months since Corroded Coffin started working professionally, but there was something about his voice that was distinctly him. Something raw and real, that couldn’t be replicated or trained.

“I love you, Eddie.” you said, interrupting the chorus. He stopped and looked up at you with a grin.

“I love you, too.” Eddie said back, and you leaned in and kissed him again.

Let’s do the Time Warp again

Let’s do the Time Warp again.

a/n: Well folks, this is it! This is the official last chapter of Wing Man. The epilogue and post-credit scene will come out on Friday (the one year anniversary of me posting chapter 1!). I'll have more to say about that later, but for now, thank you all for the support. I couldn't have done this without you all <3

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

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