#pov: chrissy cunningham

[wheneverfeasible]

Cheerleader!Eddie AU pt 2

POV: Chrissy

Part 1

TW: body shaming, eating disorders, abusive family, toxic relationships, drug use

Chrissy knew there was something wrong with her. Of course she did. Not because her mom told her there was, but because her mom told her there was.

A mother shouldn’t comment on her daughter’s weight, or make implications that her daughter’s worth was somehow tied to it. A mother shouldn’t encourage a relationship with a boy who only saw her outside appearance as a trophy to be won, never caring to even notice the red rim to her eyes or the way her smile never reached them either.

Or who never noticed when she didn’t eat at lunch or, the few times she couldn’t stop herself, she always went to the restroom immediately after and came back smelling of mint.

It was too much. All of it was just too much nowadays. She wasn’t happy, she knew that. She played pretend so well that sometimes she thought she was, but when she was all alone with just her thoughts there was no denying the gaping hole in her chest.

It was after one of these times that Chrissy had been unable to avoid eating and had to purge herself in the school restroom that she met him. Eddie Munson.

She’d made certain the girls’ restroom was empty before she pulled the trigger, and then she curled up on the dirty floor unable to take it and let the tears come. Which was, of course, when a decidedly male voice entered whistling and stumbled upon her. She’d heard stories of him before, knew Jason hated him with a passion, as did Tommy and the others.

Yet, despite the rumors of devil worship and criminality, despite being a Munson, Chrissy never once felt unsafe with him. He had looked genuinely concerned, and though his nose had wrinkled at the smell of her sick, he didn’t say anything about it or laugh at her. Instead, he helped her off the floor, holding the marker in his hand and why he was there.

And…she laughed. She giggled at the thought of Marcus getting his comeuppance on a girls’ toilet stall, because…yeah, he wasn’t that nice of a person. She hadn’t known he was the reason that Eddie had a bruise on his face, which only made her dislike of the footballer even greater.

They weren’t friends, her and Eddie, not yet, even if she guiltily told the boy other things he could write on the stall in retaliation, even when one of the things was about Jason. However, that wasn’t the last time they met. He had offered her a discount if she ever wanted weed, told her where to meet up with him if she did, and…she did. She wasn’t certain about smoking, but she felt comfortable with him and…screw it, she was tired of being what other people expected her to be.

Somehow those meetings at the table in the woods became more frequent, even when Chrissy wasn’t buying drugs, using a friends and family discount until Eddie eventually stopped charging her at all. Instead, they hung out, smoked, and talked about anything and everything. Up to and including her relationship with Jason.

When she finally made the decision to dump him, she binged the most she’d ever binged. Eddie was right there with her after, cooing as he rubbed her back and keeping her hair out of her face after, telling her so many amazing things about herself that she didn’t believe, told her things about himself that made her heart ache for him, and he held her as she cried in the bathroom of his trailer.

Things changed after that. She was ashamed he had seen her like that, ashamed that she wasn’t strong enough, but she realized she wanted to be, not just for Eddie, but for herself. So she dumped Jason and took a seat during the next lunch period at the Freak table, head held high. She was done being what people wanted her to be. When she took a bite of her sandwich, Eddie’s warm eyes on her, she took his hand and stayed in her seat the whole of lunch. She wasn’t suddenly better or anything, but it was a start.

Her and Eddie got on like a house on fire after that and, even though it was decided that they did not like each other like that after a disastrous kiss, they didn’t care if anyone else thought they were dating. Their holding hands and hanging all over each other definitely didn’t help.

And then Chrissy needed an emergency. She needed Eddie to stand in with the cheer squad because one of the girls was sick and she had no one else to ask. She batted her lashes and stuck her hands beneath her chin and she knew she had won even before Eddie’s first eye roll. And then it kept happening, and soon Eddie was more or less an official member of the Hawkins High Cheer Squad.

She, of course, thought fair was only fair and joined Hellfire, settling in with the others almost as easily as she had with Eddie. They had been a little taken aback by her homebrewed half-Orc barbarian Uragoth the Undaunted, but Chrissy adored playing as him. Only Eddie knew his backstory that he had had to kill his own Orc mother to prevent her evil from spreading, though she was looking forward to his lore dropping the further into his story they got.

And then Steve happened.

Chrissy’s eyebrows had skyrocketed when she watched that unfold in realtime, not having expected the older boy to be like her friend but…really, there was no denying how often Steve’s eyes were drawn to Eddie when they practiced, or his expression when he teased Eddie about one thing or another. And Eddie flirted back.

Steve hadn’t been the worst of them, despite his kingly status, so Chrissy allowed it to happen. Steve’s best friend, Tommy, was by far the worst, though even Steve had put a stop to a lot of things and everyone had to follow the king’s orders. It helped that her squad had warmed up to Eddie after he proved he was more than what people said about him too, and she thought she was finally getting them to agree to run a one-shot campaign through with Hellfire. It was going to be a surprise for Eddie, who still sometimes doubted the squad even really liked him.

And then they hatched up The Plan. They’d scoured the rulebook first, making certain Eddie couldn’t get in trouble, and then they unleashed him at the championship game in all his skirted glory. Eddie’s goal was to distract the opposing team, but Chrissy’s goal was to get Eddie laid. And maybe a boyfriend.

When Eddie returned to school the next Monday, wearing a deep blush and Steve’s letterman jacket, Chrissy wore a smug expression for the rest of the week.

Steve joined the Freak table, which was quickly becoming a Freak-and-Cheerleader table with how often the squad joined them too, but despite how obviously halfway-in-love the two boys were, Eddie never made Chrissy feel left out. Steve even invited his new best friend to start hanging out with them so Chrissy didn’t feel like a third wheel, some band geek she’d seen around but never spoke to before.

Robin Buckley.

Chrissy didn’t know what she thought about Robin at first. She was sarcastic but quick-witted, and though she hung on Steve as much as Chrissy did Eddie, she never felt alarmed or worried about Steve’s affections being anywhere other than they should. When Robin explained that she and Steve were Platonic soulmates with a capital ‘P’, Chrissy and Eddie could only exchange a grin because…yeah, they got that entirely.

Soon Chrissy and Robin started hanging out more whenever the boys had their solo date nights, or had “double dates” with them where they could be the third wheel together, and Chrissy found she actually really enjoyed the brash girl’s company. A lot. She was smart, and funny, and kind, and she was unapologetically herself, and she fit into their little group like she had been there from the start.

Chrissy did not like, however, when Robin started talking about a girl named Vickie, though she only brought her up when she was talking to Steve alone. That fact alone made Chrissy unhappy. Robin was her friend too, so why didn’t Robin tell her about this apparently new friend of hers also?

Of course, Chrissy didn’t realize that she made a displeased face whenever she heard Vickie’s name being brought up. Eddie noticed, however, and he and Steve would share silent communication.

It all came to a head when, after walking in on Robin complaining to Steve about Vickie having a boyfriend in college, Chrissy may or may not have said something a little snarky about why Robin even cared about that, resulting in a confession Chrissy maybe wasn’t as surprised to hear.

“Because l’m a lesbian, Chrissy!” Robin exploded, throwing her arms out wide as she glared at Chrissy over the sensitive topic. Thankfully, they were at Steve’s house while his parents were out of town, so it was only the four of them there. Steve also took that moment to sneak away back to his boyfriend. “Do you know how hard it is to find a girl to date in this homophobic town?”

“Then date me.”

Chrissy hadn’t intended to say those words, hadn’t even known she thought them, but there was nothing but truth in those three little words. Robin, for her part, just gaped at Chrissy. And, yeah, one of the things Chrissy enjoyed most was how expressive Robin was about everything, how gangly and awkward she could be, and how cute she was when she was shocked.

Grinning a little, Chrissy walked forward and lightly closed Robin’s mouth with the tip of a finger under her chin. She leaned forward, brushing her lips over Robin’s cheek.

“WHAT!” Robin squawked, face flamed red.

Chrissy just giggled, dropping her hand to tangle Robin’s fingers with her own. “Just date me then, Robin. I think I’ve been waiting for that longer than I’ve even realized. Unless you don’t like me like that, then we can just stay as friends I hope.”

Robin shook her head, not in rejection, but in a baffled daze. When she looked at Robin again, her eyes were shining bright and there was a wide smile across her lips. Her fingers tightened on Chrissy’s and Chrissy didn’t know who moved first, but soon she was having her first kiss that sent fireworks across her skin.

Later, when Chrissy and Robin rejoined Steve and Eddie red faced, hair slightly a mess, and hands clasped tightly together, all Chrissy could do was shoot Eddie a raised middle finger at his own smug look.

He was going to be insufferable, she just knew it. But that was fine, because this time she had a girlfriend by her side that she was pretty sure she was already halfway-in-love with too.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kitchen-spoon]

Steve who finishes hair school in Indianapolis then moves to LA because he wants to do hair for movies.

He can’t find a job on a film set right away so in an attempt to get closer to the industry he starts booking at home hair drying & styling through an app.

When he starts its mostly older rich ladies who book him before dinners with their husbands business partners or soirées with their girlfriends. It reminds him a bit too much of his own mother but he pushes that aside in hopes that one day he gives the right rich lady an at home blow out.

That day comes but it isn’t a rich lady. Instead cut to Chrissy manager of newly famous up and coming band corroded coffin, desperate and scrambling. It was the day the band was meant to be shooting their music video for their latest single but the hair stylist they booked called in sick that morning. Out of desperation Chrissy gets on the app and hires Steve. He has 4 stars and over 20 positive reviews and she is running out of options.

Steve sees the name chrissy and sees its for a music video and assumes he is going to be doing some fun bouncy youthful hair for an up and coming pop star. Imagine his shock when heavily pierced and tattooed lead singer of corroded coffin Eddie Munson sits down in his chair with his curly birds nest of hair. Steve does his job though, detangling and defining Eddie’s curls. Steve is even more shocked though, when it turns out Eddie is actually super sweet and…kind of charming? He might even be flirting?

Steve is unsure through the whole day and all of the touch ups he does. There is plausible deniability to all the light touches and brushing against one another that happens. Until the end of the day when Eddie comes to him looking frustrated. Instantly Steve’s stomach drops, he seemed happy with the style all day! If he didn’t like it why film a whole music video with it?

“Steve.” Eddie stops in front of him. “Look, I’m just gonna be blunt.”

Steve’s eyes go wide and he clears his throat, “uh, yeah sure go for it.”

“Am I an idiot who has been flirting with a straight guy all day?” Eddie asked.

All the air left Steve’s lungs, he couldn’t help the small wheeze that escaped him. “No you haven’t I- god Eddie.” Steve started giggling with relief, he even felt a little dizzy with it. “I’ve been trying to keep it together all day, thinking I was delusional and you were just really nice.”

“Oh,” it was Eddie’s turn to widen his eyes. Then a huge smile broke out in his face. “No delusions there, I was definitely flirting with you all day.” He paused taking one of his curls between his hands and separating it causing it to frizz. “And uh, would love to keep flirting with you over dinner tonight…if you’re interested?”

Steve smiled reaching forward taking the curl from Eddie. He began smoothing it back together and smiled warmly. “I’d love to.”

[corrodedbisexual]

Stranger Things 4 | Chapter One | The Hellfire Club

Chrissy's death without the visions/Vecna scenes (requested by @klausinamarink) + the whole trailer scene leading up to it. With the lights on, obviously.

💡Stranger Things scenes you can actually see (5/?)

[unfinishedslurs]

prophetic nightmares of the dead (steddie)

Eddie’s been dreaming of dying. 

It started his first round of senior year, some kind of prophetic fuck-up from his brain. No one knows except Wayne. Wayne gets it, kinda, from his time in ‘Nam. Knows how vivid nightmares can get, knows all the tricks to waking up and remembering you’re alive. 

“It’s that damn music,” he mutters to make Eddie laugh through tears, after Eddie’s woken him up again with his shrieking and stumbling out of his room. “Or that game. Your imagination is vivid enough without you feeding it, boy.”

“You’re right,” Eddie responds unsteadily. “No more of that devil shit for me. I’m going on the straight and narrow. From now on it’ll be…fucking church hymns and songs about the Lord.”

Wayne hums in absent agreement, still rubbing Eddie’s back. The glass of cold water sits heavy in his hands. He takes a drink. 

It was practically routine. 

He got better at waking up silently, at not running to his uncle after the fourth, seventh, twentieth nightmare in a row. Avoided sleeping at all, showed up to school with bags under his eyes and cranky as all hell. His grades dropped lower than ever, Wayne got more and more concerned, and Eddie kept dying every night. 

The Queen of Hawkins High wasn’t the person he was expecting to understand his predicament. 

“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”

“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis.” He smiles, tries to make her laugh. Every day until I get out of this damned town. 

Slowly, he wheedles it out of her. 

“I keep having these dreams,” she admits. “Nightmares. Every night, for years. It’s always…it’s always the same.”

A chill goes down his spine. 

“I’m sorry, I sound crazy.”

“No, no, no,” he scrambles to reassure her. “Keep going, it’s okay. Safe space, right? It’s just me, you, and the trees here.”

She nods, unsteady. “There’s…a monster. And he…he’s after me. And when he catches me, I always…the dream always ends with me…” She raises a trembling hand to her eyes, not bothering to wipe away her tears. Almost like she’s checking if they’re still there. 

His blood runs cold. 

“Dying,” he whispers. Chrissy lets out a sob. “Every night, since ‘83, you’ve dreamed of dying.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it’s me, too, Chrissy.” He jumps up, pacing in circles. “I…every single night, since that Byers kid went missing. It’s not the same as yours but this is…this is fucking crazy, what are the odds—oof!”

Chrissy has barreled into his chest, clinging to him with her arms around his neck. He can feel the collar of his t-shirt getting damp. 

“Uh,” he stammers as she sniffles into his shirt. His hands hover around her, not sure what to do until he settles them around her back. “There, there?” He tries to soothe. It’s not very soothing, with the way his voice shakes. “It’s okay.”

“Something’s wrong with me,” she gasps. “It’s following me. I keep seeing things when I’m awake, my mother and a clock and a monster—“

“Shit,” he says, a sinking feeling in his chest. He’s not exactly superstitious, but he has a feeling there’s more to this than dreams. “Hey, listen, Chrissy, you’re gonna be okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”

She just shakes her head, burrows in closer like she can worm into his skin if she tries hard enough. He’s never been hugged like this in his life, and he has no idea what to do with the scared teenager in his arms. 

“Here, hold on,” he says, and carefully removes her arms from his neck. She wipes her eyes, looking away. 

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“No, no, it’s cool,” he says. “Promise. I just wanted to give you this.” 

Fumbling, he drapes his leather jacket over her shoulders. Her cheerleading jacket can’t be very warm, especially combined with the skirt she’s wearing. 

She pulls it tight around herself, even though it probably sticks like weed and cigarettes and Eddie’s BO. He’s a little too preoccupied to be embarrassed about that right now, though. 

The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Chrissy startles like a scared rabbit, dread coloring her whole face, and Eddie makes a decision. 

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Looks like Hellfire’s getting postponed after all. 

They make a stop at Family Video, partially to rent a movie or two, but mainly because Henderson never shuts up about Steve fucking Harrington so now Eddie knows exactly where he works. Why the little rich boy is working a dead end job with Keith as his manager is a mystery, but it’s not one he’s interested in uncovering. Hopefully he’s on shift today. 

All of Eddie’s shit luck must have worked to make the stars align, because there he is at the counter, in all his ex-kingly glory. He doesn’t look up as the bell rings, apparently focused on whatever he has in hand. 

“Welcome to Family Video,” he calls, chewing on a pen. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”

“Is that Blue Jeans?” Eddie asks, walking up to the counter as Chrissy goes to look through the shelves. Harrington jumps, slamming the magazine shut. 

“Hi, what can I get you—Munson?”

“Harrington,” he grins, reveling in the frown he gets in response. Harrington meets his eyes for one startled second before his gaze travels down to his Hellfire shirt, over his vest and bare forearms, and taking in the belt and ripped jeans. Eddie smiles wider. He oh so loves intimidating the jocks and moral majority of this town. 

“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Harrington finally asks, eyes jumping back up to meet his gaze. 

“That’s actually why I’m here, I need you to pass on a message for me. We’re skipping, and—“

“We?”

“Hey Eddie,” Chrissy says, appearing behind him. She lays three movies on the counter. “I picked some out, I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” he says as Harrington’s eyebrows jut up. Chrissy is still wearing his jacket, and he realizes exactly what this looks like. Shit, is Harrington friends with Carver? They probably have some jock bro code that’s totally going to end in Eddie getting beat up, shit—

“Hey Chrissy,” Harrington says agreeably. “Finally dump Carver?”

She blinks, startled at the insinuation. Her cheeks flush. “Oh, no—“

“It’s not like that,” Eddie breaks in, laughing to cover up the panic he feels. Trying to walk the delicate line between not a queer and not stealing a jock’s girlfriend. “Chrissy here just needs some company.”

Harrington nods, clearly not believing them. 

“Seriously,” he presses. “I mean, can you really see a girl like her with a guy like me?”

Chrissy frowns, but Harrington looks him up and down again. 

“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But it’s really none of my business, I don’t get paid to care who dates who.”

Eddie blinks. It almost sounds like Harrington was calling him hot or something.

Before he can figure out what Harrington actually meant, he starts scanning the tapes. He pauses on the last one, brow furrowing, before he looks between Eddie and Chrissy with understanding in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t know why the sudden change of heart. 

“Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

Shit. 

He has to clear his throat. “You have that here?” 

They don’t. They shouldn’t. It’s not exactly small town video store material. Eddie had to go to Indianapolis to find it again, he knows damn well it’s not at Family Video in fucking Hawkins. 

But the cover stares up at him anyway. 

“I found it on one of the shelves,” Chrissy says. “It looked like it doesn’t get checked out a whole lot. Is it any good?”

Eddie braces himself for the slurs. For the bored retail worker to disappear and the Bible thumping, red blooded American to come out. It’s not Chrissy’s fault, she didn’t know any better, but if Harrington knows this movie and now he knows that Eddie knows this movie, there’s some bruises in his near future. 

“It’s pretty good,” Harrington says easily. Eddie blinks his eyes open to see him smiling warmly at Chrissy, handing her the tapes. “For a, ah, certain type of people.

Well color him surprised. This is an interesting turn of events. 

“I own it,” Eddie blurts out without meaning to. Harrington’s eyes snap to him, widening at the confession. “It’s, uh, hard to find, I had to go out of town for it. That’s why I was surprised.” 

 “Oh, I guess we don’t need to rent it, then,” Chrissy says, completely unaware of the staring contest that’s happening between him and Harrington. 

Harrington looks away first. “Right,” he coughs, and goes to cancel it. Chrissy pulls cash out of her pocket. 

“Oh, Chrissy, you don’t need to—“

“Don’t be dumb,” she says. “I picked the movies, I’m paying for them.”

He shrugs, unable to fight the logic in that. He’s not exactly in the mood to spend money right now, anyways, since he’s definitely giving her a discount on the drugs after this.

“What was it you needed me to do?” Harrington asks as he prints the receipt. 

“What?”

“You said you had a message.”

“Right,” Eddie says. He completely forgot about that. “You’re going to the game tonight, right?”

“How did you know that?”

“Sinclair said you go to all his games.”

“He talks about me?”

“Dude, those kids never shut the fuck up about you,” Eddie says. “Makes me want to pull my hair out.”

“It’s mutual,” Harrington snorts, looking a bit touched. “Henderson already phoned me to ask to join the campaign, man, I’m not filling in—“

“He asked you?”

“Yeah? Wait, if this isn’t about that, then what is it?”

“Tell Henderson he got his wish,” Eddie says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m postponing the campaign.”

“Wait, really? Lucas is going to lose his mind, he was gonna be so bummed if he missed your nerd game—wait, why are you telling me?”

“‘Cause we’re ditching, Harrington, catch up.” Sinclair was excited for the end of his campaign? It makes him feel a little bit guilty, somewhere deep in his nonexistent soul. Oh, well. He’s postponing now. 

“I’m going to wait in the car,” Chrissy says, and takes the tapes and Eddie’s keys with her. 

“I see what this is,” Harrington says, leaning closer to Eddie and pillowing his chin on his hand. “You got them all riled up, and now you want them to shoot the messenger.”

“You caught me.” He grabs his chest, pretending to be shot. Then he leans forward with a grin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Maybe I won’t tell them, make them wait for the entire time for you to show up. Henderson’ll do it, you know. Then who’ll be in trouble?”

Eddie laughs without meaning to. He doesn’t believe for a second that Harrington will do it, which surprises him. But it seems like Harrington is full of surprises this afternoon. 

“So she really hasn’t broken up with him yet?”

“Huh?”

Harrington nods behind him, to where Chrissy is in the van. It seems like she’s playing music, nodding along with a small smile. 

“I told you, man, we’re not—“

“That’s not what I meant, it’s just…” he grimaces. “She’s way too good for him. And she’s never seemed…you know. Happy.”

“Really? I’d have thought you and Carver would get along, you know, jock bonding or something.”

“The only jock I’m friends with these days is Sinclair, and he’s as much of a nerd as the rest of ‘em. Anyways, even if I was still on the team, it’s like…I dunno. He sounds like a preacher.”

“The devil knows scripture, too?”

“Something like that.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. How’d you two end up hanging out anyway?”

“Oh, you know,” Eddie says lightly. “Shared visions, strange dreams, things like that.”

He waits for Harrington to laugh it off, to roll his eyes and go back to his girly magazine. It doesn’t happen. If anything, Harrington grows sharp, gets a cutting edge Eddie’s never seen on him before. Not even for the time he spent as king, looking for peasants to push around. 

“Visions? Did you see any weird dust, or animals? People acting weird? Or anything else like that?”

“What?” Eddie blinks, startled. “No? They’re just nightmares, dude.”

Actually, his dreams do involve weird looking animals. A bunch of ugly bats, with teeth that hurt. Whoever said you can’t feel pain in dreams was a fucking liar. 

They’re not just nightmares, Eddie knows. At least, not for Chrissy. Not if she’s outright hallucinating. There’s something wrong with both of them, and Eddie’s of half a mind to just drive them both down to Pennhurst and get it over with. But that’s their business, and he’ll be damned if he tells King Steve Chrissy’s secrets. Even if he doesn’t seem that bad, now, out of the fluorescent lights of their school. 

“Right, right, of course.” He laughs, dragging a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m just…on edge, I guess. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Right,” he says again. “Well, have a good day, I guess. Tell Chrissy her tapes are due back in five days. And, uh, thank you for choosing Family Video.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Eddie says, feeling equally unsteady after the weird turn their conversation has taken. He heads for the door, only pausing when Harrington calls out. 

“Oh, and, uh, Eddie?”

“What?” He pauses, one hand on the door. 

“If anything…weird happens, let me know, all right?”

He has no idea what that means. “Don’t worry, Harrington,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder. “I live weird.”

When he gets back in the van, Chrissy studies him closely. 

“What?”

“What did you and Steve have to talk about? I didn't know you were friends.”

“We’re not,” he snorts. “Me, friends with the King? Can you imagine? Nah, we share custody of some of the freshmen in Hellfire.”

“I don’t know,” she says. “I feel like…” she trails off, biting her lip raw. 

“Like what?” He encourages. 

“You called me a queen. Does that mean we can’t be friends?”

“Uh…” Eddie says, stumbling a bit. He does want to be friends with Chrissy. Even without the fact that they’re probably going to end up at the same cell in the nuthouse, she’s sweet and quiet in a way that makes him want to ask if anyone’s ever told her she can be loud. Her eyes are big and sad, but he can see a smile glancing along the edges of her mouth when he looks at her. She’s clever, he’ll give her that. He’s been caught hook, line, and sinker. “No, I’d— I’d like that. To be friends with you.”

Her smile feels brighter than the sun. 

“Then what’s so weird about being friends with Steve?” She asks, glancing towards the Family Video window. Harrington looks like he’s back to reading his magazine, but glances up like he can feel them watching him. Eddie looks away and starts the van. 

“Well, for one thing, you’re not one of the assholes who called me names and pushed me and my friends around.”

Harrington’s not either, really. Too busy standing around and being self obsessed to bother. His friends did all the pushing around for him. Wouldn’t do to get his hands dirtied with the freak. The familiar bitterness rises in his chest, and he tries to push it down. Looks at Chrissy out of the corner of his eye as he pulls out of his parking spot. 

Her smile has faded, and he could kick himself. “Jason is, though,” she says quietly. 

“How long have you guys been dating, anyway?” He asks, eager to change the subject. He pulls out of the lot, all too ready to leave the video store and the man who resides in it behind. 

“Three years.”

Eddie chokes, not expecting that answer in the least. “Three years?”

“We got together when we were fifteen,” she says, a grimace pulling at her mouth when he glances at her. Shit, maybe Harrington was right and there is trouble in paradise. 

“How do you stand him?”

“He loves me,” she says. It’s not an answer. 

“Yeah, but Chrissy, he’s like, a major dick.”

“He loves me,” she repeats. “He wants to go to college together. He wants to live in Hawkins, and have a pretty white wedding, and a job that pays and a wife that’s pretty and sweet and doesn’t have nightmares about dying every night. A wife that’s not crazy. And she’ll have his kids, all two and a half of them, and she’ll always smile and stay at home and never do anything with her life because she gave up all her dreams for him—“ 

He pulls onto the side of the road. “Jesus,” he breathes, twisting in his seat. “Chrissy. That’s not love.”

“He’s safe.” She looks at him imploringly, eyes wet. “I just have to make it until summer. He can have his pretty little girlfriend, his pretty little life. He can have whatever he wants. I just have to make it to summer.”

He swallows back bile. “What’s summer?”

She looks down. “I got an early admission. University of Chicago. I have scholarships. I’ll pack everything, and run away there, and I’ll never have to see him or my mom or anyone else in this fucking place ever again.”

“I used to hate Steve,” she whispers. “Even if he was nice to me, I used to…just wish he didn’t exist.”

“Shit, Chris, so did I. He was an asshole.”

She shakes her head. “No, because it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t because of that. I was just…jealous.”

“Of Harrington? I think everyone’s been jealous of him at some point.”

Her face screws up. “You don’t get it,” she says. “I didn’t want his house, or his money, or his car, I just wanted…”

“Him?”

“No!” She pulls her hair in front of face, looking at him desperately. “I wanted to be him, because he was…”

He really doesn’t know where this is going. “Because he was…?”

“Nancy,” she breathes with a sigh. “He had Nancy Wheeler, and she was pretty, and smart, and I…I wanted it to be me.”

Oh. Oh. Holy shit, Chrissy Cunningham is coming out to him on his ratty couch. He’s safe, she’d said about Jason, and he’d thought she was talking about all the other ways he was convenient, but… there’s safety in a shield. Easier to hide behind a boyfriend then have people asking questions you can’t answer. He’ll eat his shoes if Jason knows, but at least he’s good for something. 

She’s turning pale. “I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I don’t know why I thought—“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he says, grasping her hand as she tries to flee. “Chrissy, I—Chrissy, wait. Me too, okay?” 

She freezes. “You too?”

“Yeah, Chris, me too.”

“Like you had a crush on Nancy too?”

The look he gives her speaks volumes. 

“Oh.” She settles back down on the couch, her too-thin wrist trembling in his grip. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, just to make sure. 

“Okay,” she says. 

“Good.” He sighs, lets go of her hand to run his fingers through his hair. “So, Wheeler, huh?”

A flush blooms across her face. 

Steve breaks the surface again, looking panicked, before being dragged back under. 

Immediately it’s chaos. 

“Steve?” Nancy calls, looking over the side of the boat frantically. “Steve?”

Robin jumps in. 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie says, as something determined flashes over Nancy’s face. “Let’s think about this—“

She takes a deep breath and dives in after her. 

“Shit!” He looks at Chrissy, eyes wide with dread. “We’re not going in there, are we?”

Sounds echo from the shore. Shit, the police. 

They’ll probably die if they go down there. But if the cops find them, they’ll take Chrissy’s Walkman, and then she’ll definitely die. 

He sees the same resolve settle over her face. 

“This is crazy,” he mutters. “This is crazy! Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

 She takes his hand. “On three?”

He lets out a hysterical laugh, gripping her hand tightly. 

Chrissy counts to three. 

They jump. 

He spits blood. It dribbles down his chin, and Eddie follows it down, down, watches a few drops land on that glorious chest and thanks every god there is that he’s too scared for the frankly impressive boner that wants to form. 

Chrissy elbows him. 

“Hey! What was that for?”

“You’re drooling,” she whispers. 

“Can you blame me?” He hisses back. “Look at him! That was some fucking Ozzy shit right there!”

She gives him a look. 

He toes one of the dead bats by his foot. Ugly little fucker, with sharp teeth. It’s almost familiar. 

He doesn’t get too far with that train of thought. 

“Sense of humor still intact, that’s good.” She chuckles nervously. Then she shakes him. 

“Ow, Rob!”

“You have to stop doing shit like this! ‘Hur, dur, I’m Steve, I’m going to go into the highly dangerous portal and get eaten by bats because I’m stupid—“

“I don’t sound like that!” He bats her hands away from his torso. “Also, you seem to be forgetting the part where I was dragged against my will.”

“You can’t take any more concussions, Steve!”

“No concussion,” he says, and takes her hands in his. She pauses to breathe. They look like they’re in their own little world, and something bitter twinges in Eddie’s chest. “No rabies, no concussion, I’m okay.”

“You’re definitely not,” Nancy says as she moves in to wrap his injuries. He grunts in pain. 

“I’m fine,” he insists, and Eddie snorts. He gets a scathing look in return. 

“We are not fine,” Eddie says. “We’re in some sort of hell dimension, shit, I…” he turns in a circle, finally taking in the world they’re in. Everything is grey and barren. Red lightning cracks across the sky. 

It looks exactly like his dream. 

He lets out a nervous laugh. “What the fuck,” he says. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—“

“Eddie?” Chrissy grabs his hand, and he turns to her with wide eyes. 

“Chrissy, it’s just like my dream. This world, those weird fucking creatures, it’s exactly like…”

She turns pale. 

“Dream?” Nancy asks, sharp. “What dream?”

“It’s crazy,” Eddie says weakly. He’s starting to believe it less and less. 

“It’s both of us.” Chrissy straightens, raising her chin. “It’s always the same thing. For me, it’s a monster. He takes my eyes, snaps my limbs.” Mercifully, none of them point out the similarities with the recent killings, although all three of them straighten. “For Eddie, it’s…”

“Bats,” he says. “Ugly fucking bats, with sharp teeth. Everything is grey and desolate, and there’s this kid—“

The other three exchange what can only be described as a look. 

“I’m crazy,” Eddie pleads, trembling. Please, for the love of God, please tell me I’m crazy. Stick me in the loony bin, tie me up and leave me on the front steps of Pennhurst. Please. 

“You’re not crazy,” Nancy confirms. It feels like a death sentence. 

“So, what’s the story there?” Eddie asks, tripping over a rock. “How’d you figure out the whole ‘Prophetic Nightmares mean death’ thing, anyway?”

Steve furrows his brow. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”

“I’m not.” Eddie lets out a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not at all. But I think some part of me had always known, you know? Like, it was too real to be just my imagination.”

Steve nods. “As far as we can tell, it’s only people who die from the Upside-Down,” he tells Eddie. “Has to be directly from it, no second-hand murder or anything.”

“Great.”

“Yeah.” He grimaces. “And it can change, you know? You might be having nightmares one night, and then you do something significant enough to change your…fate or whatever, and they’re gone. Or maybe something happens, and you start having them. It’s not always set in stone, you know?”

“Well, good,” Eddie breathes. There’s a chance they get out of this. “That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“How do you know all this? Like, do people just come up to you and tell you their nightmares? Do you go around asking everyone in Hawkins what they dream about?”

“As far as we can tell, it started with Barb.”

“Barb?”

“Yeah, uh, Barbara Holland?”

“The one who died from the chemical leak?”

There’s a heavy silence, where Steve looks at Nancy. There’s regret in his eyes. 

“She had a nightmare, the night Will disappeared. Told Nancy a monster took her, something with no face and lots of teeth. Nancy told her to lay off the horror movies.”

Something sinks in his stomach. 

“That night, they came over to my house, you know? We were messing around, being stupid, and Barb cut herself. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, we told her to go home and went inside. The next day, she was missing.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathes. “The chemical leak?”

“Bullshit,” Steve confirms. 

“Shit.”

Steve blinks, eyes jumping back up to his. “What?” He asks, sounding breathless. Poor guy. Those bites must hurt like hell. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie says, even though his mood sours a bit at the idea of Steve not listening to him. “I was just saying, you and Wheeler looked pretty cozy. I think you’ve got a chance.”

Steve stares at him. “…what?”

“Christ, Harrington, your ex-girlfriend! Nancy Wheeler, who leapt after you without a second thought and was giving you eyes the whole time she was patching you up. I’m telling you to win her back.” Sorry, Chrissy. She'd told him she was over that particular crush, though, so he figures it's fair game.

“Nancy? You want me to date Nancy again?” He asks, as if the idea is so far out of the realm of possibility that it’s baffling. 

“Do you not?”

“Not really.”

“Why?” Eddie asks, because if there’s anything he’s learning about himself these days it’s that he’s a bit of a masochist. “Isn’t she the perfect girl for you?”

She is. They fit so well, Eddie could see it from space. Nancy Wheeler, with her determination and fearlessness, guns in her room and fire in her heart. Steve Harrington, the hero, the protector, standing at her side where he belongs. It’s so storybook it practically writes itself. 

But Steve’s shaking his head. “We weren’t…good together,” he says haltingly, as if he’s debating on whether to even tell Eddie this. “I wanted to ignore it all. I was scared of what I’d seen, scared of the government guys whose NDA’s I signed, just…scared. I wanted to pretend like it never happened, like  everything was normal. Nancy couldn’t do that. She lost Barb, and I…told her to forget. I told her to just put out the story the Feds were selling, because I was a coward. Barb’s parents sold their house to hire an investigator for a girl we knew was dead, and god, Nancy’s face…”

Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to hear this. He looks back up at the girls walking ahead. Nancy looks as fiercely determined as usual, but for the first time, he wonders what’s behind it. 

“I hurt her, and she hurt me,” Steve continues. “I…shit, I really thought she loved me, you know? I thought we would get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. Realizing it was all…well, bullshit, that was almost worse than any concussion I’ve had, but I don't blame her. I wasn’t what she needed.”

“And now? I mean, you’re clearly a different guy than you were back then,” Eddie says, because he’s kind of nosy at heart. Steve’s being all introspective and shit, just giving up all this information for free, and he wants to know more. It’s not at all because something in him turns smug when faced with the fact that the world’s most fated couple aren’t fated at all. Are actually kind of terrible together, if Steve’s to be believed. 

“It’d just be the same thing all over again. I’ll always love her, but we want different things. Different priorities and stuff. I wouldn’t be able to keep up, and she’s not going to slow down for me.”

It doesn’t mean he has a chance. Eddie’s got, like, negative chances with Steve Harrington. Still, the little peacock in him preens. 

“What does she need, then?” 

Steve’s face is almost wistful. “She needs someone like Jonathan. He’s got…drive, or whatever. He’s someone you know you can trust to do what needs to be done. The two of them made sure the stuff about the chemical leak was published, you know that? Nancy needed closure, and Jonathan made it happen. He’s cool like that. And he’s good to have in a fight, too. Throws a mean punch.” He smiles wryly at that, touching his temple like he’s lost in a memory. “He’s passionate, and caring, and he’s so stressed all the time, but he still manages to be, like, soothing. And he’s got those eyes, you know? They’re big and sad and like, wet all the time. He always looks like he’s about to cry, but it works for him. He’s just…he’s good at making people feel safe.”

Eddie barely processes the words, too busy staring at Steve in confusion, jealousy churning in his gut. Which is to be expected, given that he’s been pushing said jealousy down for this entire conversation, but he doesn’t know how they went from Steve’s relationship with Nancy to how pretty Jonathan Byers’s eyes are. 

He’s good at making people feel safe. God, he had it all wrong. In the wake of finding out they’d lived through three world-ending apocalypses, that might be the greatest confession of love he’s ever heard. And it’s from King Steve, about a boy that humbled him so bad he drop-kicked his crown straight across the country. 

Steve catches him staring and shuts his mouth with a click. Everything has a washed, gray tinge to it, but he swears his cheeks flush.

“I’m rambling,” he laughs, looking slightly panicked. “I was just trying to say that Nancy and I don’t fit together. Not like that. I don’t really know if we ever did.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I’m starting to see why.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”  

“Nothing,” he squeaks. Well, in for a penny, out for a pond, right? He’s already in hell, might as well try and sus Harrington out while he’s at it. “Just…Byers? Really?”

“I don’t—“

“Didn’t he kick your ass?”

“Not you too!” Steve groans. “I already got the third degree from Robin. I was asking for that beatdown. Shit, some of the stuff I said was so nasty it makes me want to take a shower when I think of it.”

His eyebrows fly up at how easily he’d given up denial. “Gotta say, I didn’t think he’d be King Steve’s type.”

“He—I—he’s not—“ he stammers. Never mind, then. Denial still firmly in place. 

At least until Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t know why I’m trying to deny it. I can see that hanky in your pocket.”

Eddie’s eyes widen innocently. “Oh, this?” He asks, tugging it a bit for emphasis. It stays firmly in place, because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pin it. He learned after the first three he lost to miscellaneous chaos. 

“Don’t play dumb, that’s my job,” Steve complains. “Shit, I can’t believe I said all that. That’s fucking embarrassing.”

“I mean, I just tried to get you to win back your ex-girlfriend when you’re in love with her boyfriend,” Eddie says mildly. “I feel like we’re both embarrassed here.”

Steve’s flush would be visible from outer space. “I’m not in love with him.” 

“Who are you trying to convince here?”

“I’m not!” He protests. “Like, yeah, I used to be, but I’ve moved on. Firmly moved on. I love him in the same way I love Nancy, you know? Like, she’s the first person I ever loved, and he made me realize that I like both. They’re always going to be part of me. But I’m not in love with him anymore.”

Eddie’s heart takes off without his permission. 

“Don’t tell Lucas,” she pleads. 

“I won’t,” Steve promises. 

Max hesitates.

“You don’t have to tell me if—“

“I’ve been having Nightmares.”

Eddie sucks in a breath. 

“What?” Steve sounds…shit, there’s not a way to describe how broken Steve’s voice is with just those four words. 

“Ever since Billy died,” Max says. “I can’t…it’s Vecna. I know it is. He gets me.”

“Max, why wouldn’t you tell us? We could have—“

“I thought it would be easier,” she tells him, voice cracking. “If I just pulled away, I thought maybe it would hurt less when I finally go. And I think—I think I wanted to—“

She cuts off with a sob, and Eddie’s heart fucking shatters. 

“Max,” Steve says helplessly. 

“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here, and I’m sorry for thinking I wanted to die but Steve I don’t, I don’t, I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to, Steve, I don’t know what to do—“

Steve pulls her into his chest. She curls her fingers into his shirt, and he meets Eddie’s eyes over her head. Eddie sees tears streaking down his face before he ducks his head back down. 

“I’m here, Max,” Steve promises. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I’ll do everything I can to fix this. You just keep that Walkman on.”

She nods into his shoulder, still crying. It’s violent, her sobs shaking her entire body. She looks smaller every time Eddie sees her, like she’s retreating into herself, and now she looks tiny. Looks all her fifteen years, clinging to the only adult in the vicinity she trusts like he’s her lifeline. And Eddie sees the resolve settle on Steve’s face, knows without a doubt that he’s going to do something stupid. 

“Yes, we do,” Max says quietly. Even from here, Eddie can see her trembling. 

“No,” Steve says. “No, no, no, no, no.”

She’s got a whole plan though. Outlines it with steel in her voice, confident enough that everyone nods along. If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d believe in it too. 

Steve looks damn near apocalyptic. “Max,” he says through gritted teeth, “can I talk to you in the other room?”

Lucas stands up with her, but Steve stops him with a look. Still, he doesn’t sit back down until Max puts a hand on his arm. 

“It’s just Steve,” she tells him quietly. “We just need a minute.”

No one says anything as they close the door to Max’s room behind them. A deafening click of the latch in the silence. 

As soon as the door is closed, Dustin and Erica have their ears pressed to the wood. Chrissy isn’t far behind. 

“Guys,” Nancy hisses, even as she creeps closer, “really?”

“This should be a private conversation,” Robin whispers, wringing her hands as Lucas tiptoes across the room to join them. “Like, you know how Steve gets about you munchkins, obviously he wouldn’t take this well. Honestly, I’m not taking this well, and I’m not your guy's babysitter-slash-big brother-slash-dad. But it’s the best plan we’ve got, unless we want to just let Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One to give up and find his fourth victim somewhere else and we wouldn’t know who it was and then he really will open the gates and kill everyone we know—“

She’s shushed by four different people. 

Eddie gives in, crossing the room as silently as he can to join their little eavesdropping party. Robin follows him. 

“—said you weren’t ready,” Steve is snapping, voice barely muffled through the door. Thank God for shitty trailer soundproofing. “I told you all you had to do was keep the goddamn Walkman on, and that’s what you’re going to do! We’ll find another way.”

“There is no other way, Steve!” There’s a light thump that Eddie thinks might be the stomping of a foot. “It’s our only shot at winning this. It has to be me.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“What are we gonna do? Wait for him to target someone else? Wait for them to die, because I was too selfish? Because I’m a fucking coward?”

“Yes!” Steve hisses, clear as day. Their little group of eavesdroppers look at each other with wide eyes. “Fuck, Max, if that’s what it fucking takes to keep you alive. He’ll find another target—“

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“I’m not letting you die on my watch, Mayfield. I’m not letting you die, period.”

Max sounds close to pulling her hair out. “You’re not letting me do jack shit. I know the risks. I’m willing to do what it takes.”

Eddie’s heart twists. Jesus, she’s a fucking kid. He’s with Steve, on this one. 

“Well I’m not,” Steve replies harshly. “And if those guys out there knew, they wouldn’t be so gung-ho about it either. You know damn well if you told them you were having Nightmares—“

Dustin loses his balance, and falls on the floor with a thud that seems to echo in the sudden silence that follows. Everyone freezes. 

When Steve opens the door, he’s glowering. Eddie can’t help but notice the tears in his eyes. 

“Seriously?” He demands. 

“You’re having Nightmares?” Lucas asks Max, heartbroken. 

Max’s face is thundering. “That was a private conversation.”

“If you wanted privacy, maybe you should have better soundproofing,” Dustin snarks. “We could have heard you from the living room.”

“Sorry for assuming we didn’t have to ask after closing the goddamn door,” Steve growls. 

Max pushes past them all, heading straight for the back door. 

“Max, wait—“

“Max!”

“Hold on—“

Steve starts after her, stopping them all in their tracks with a glare when they try to follow. He doesn’t say anything, just lets out a derisive huff before slamming the door shut behind him. 

They stand there, crowded in the tiny hallway, frozen. 

“I think we may have fudged that one up,” Robin says quietly. No one disagrees with her. 

By the time they come back inside, everyone else is scavenging for apology food. Max is wiping her eyes, and Steve’s hands shake like he needs a cigarette. 

“I’m the bait,” Steve announces. No preamble, no room for debate, just laying it down and expecting everyone to go along with it. 

Obviously, he was hoping for too much given the kids they hang out with. 

“Will that even work?” Erica scrunches her nose. 

“Yes.”

“Wanna elaborate on that?” Robin asks quietly, moving into his space. He gives her a look, but lets her close the distance between them until she’s taking his arm and dragging him to the couch. He sits obediently, and Max immediately moves to the side Robin’s not on, leaving a bit of distance between them like she wants to be close but is scared to touch. 

“Nope.”

“How do we even know if it’ll work?” Dustin asks. “You can’t just decide Vecna will go for you instead, that’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works.”

“He’s right, Steve,” Nancy says apologetically. She backtracks at Steve’s deadly look. “Obviously, we won’t use Max anymore if she’s having Nightmares, but we have no way of knowing if Henry will come for you.”

“I could do it,” Chrissy offers quietly. Bile floods Eddie’s mouth, and he swallows it back with his protests. “He might still come for me, since I was cursed.”

“You’re not cursed anymore,” Steve reminds her. “You don’t even need the Walkman. Plus, he wants someone El knows. We don’t know that he’d come for you.”

“We don’t know that he’d come for you, either,” Lucas says. 

“He will.”

“He will,” Max affirms quietly. When Eddie looks at her, she’s staring at her own hands. 

“How do you know?” Erica asks. 

“Because I had my first vision while we were outside,” Steve says. 

That shuts them up. 

They’re distracted by Robin standing up abruptly enough to knock over her chair, yelling something incomprehensible at Steve about his “stupid box,” and where he can shove it, whatever that means, and storming off. Steve stays sitting exactly where he is, head down, looking defeated. 

Eddie and Dustin exchange startled glances. 

Chrissy creeps up to Steve cautiously. “Are you going to go after her?”

He shakes his head. When he raises it, Eddie notices his eyes are rimmed red. “You should,” he mumbles. “You’d probably help more than I would, right now.”

She nods and slips away. Eddie sends Dustin in the Sinclair’s direction, and plops down in Robin’s empty seat. 

“She not doing too hot with all this?”

Steve grimaces. “I told her where my will is.”

“Ah,” Eddie says, genuinely at a loss for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“You not leave her anything?” It’s a shit joke, one that he kicks himself for making, but he laughs. It’s hoarse and cold and all too fake, but it’s a laugh. 

“Like, almost everything I have. To be divided as she sees fit.”

“Making her do all that? No wonder she’s pissed.”

Steve’s snort is real this time.

[yellowdevilkitten]

This is for the lovely @a-little-unsteddie hope this was what you were wanting!

“No, no way Chris.” Eddie starts his monologue the same way he’s been starting his monologues lately. Eddie knew Chrissy was a troublemaker that’s what made them best friends in the first place. So he doesn’t really know what he could’ve expected when Chrissy asked him to be her maid of honor(he’s honored really!) but it definitely wasn’t to come get a manipedi with the rest of the bridesmaids. Why does she need a manipedi anyways, her nails are looking great as ever(acrylic with tiny gemstones a light purple-ish color).

“Why not? You paint your nails. What's so wrong with somebody painting yours for you? Plus you get a free massage out of it.” She agrees, clearly done with the conversation they’ve been having for the past thirty minutes.

 Eddie doesn’t hate the idea of of getting a manipedi he just prefers to do his nails himself and honestly he’s offended that chrissy doesn’t think he’s capable of his nails turning out nice and neat(he isn’t he gets too impatient and they typically turn out smudge, chipped, and smushed). The part that he isn’t going to enjoy is all the gossip and don’t get him wrong he loves gossip but he doesn’t enjoy listening to middle aged women gossip about how much they hate their husbands.

 He also knows that the bridesmaids and Chrissy are all going to gossip but he’s heard all that gossip before, plus he knows he’s not going to be able to sit still for X amount of time. So Eddie going to go get a manipedi is a bad idea for many reasons but chrissy doesn’t seem to be budging and he knows it’s her wedding and she knows that he’s going to say yes either way and him denying is all for good fun. 

He lets out a dramatic and long sigh before ending the conversation. “Fine, I’ll go.” He puts his hands up in a surrender after he says that so Chrissy knows he’s serious. Her answering smile is everything Eddie needs to know this is a great idea. 

— The day of the wedding Eddie and the girls are all squished into a car to be pampered(which Chrissy forgot to inform him that they’d also be getting their hair styled, she knows how he feels about his hair, the rat). Which leads them to their last stop, The nail salon which doesn’t look as ominous as he thought. 

He’s squished in the middle between jenna and Molly who is talking enthusiastically over him about some guy name Carl(gag carl was one of the hair stylist doing kelly’s hair he kept making creepy comments about kelly’s hair he honestly doesn't know how jenna and molly can even look at him and see someone worth dating). Eddie doesn’t even realize they have parked too cought up in his thoughts about Carl. 

“Alright you guys ready?” Chrissy asks before opening her car door. 

“Don’t really have a choice.” he mumbles under his breath waiting for the girls to get out of the car so he can. 

—

Once they walk into the salon Eddie’s immediately hit by the smell of nail polish. Before he can register anything other than the overwhelming smell of polish he hears a admittedly handsome voice call out,

“hi, do you have a booking with us?” 

“Uhm-” Eddie starts before Chrissy cuts him off. “Yes we do, it should be under Chrissy Cunningham.” 

The guy, which Eddie realizes has a nametag on that says ‘steve’, walks up to the front desk to type into the computer and he nods his head that Eddie takes to mean he found the name. 

“Okay, it says here everyone is getting a manipedi is that correct?” Hot guy, Steve, double checks. 

“Mhm, expect I’m getting acrylics done too.” Chrissy corrects. 

“Great you ladies and gentleman,” he winks at Eddie, “Can take a seat at those six pedicure chairs after you pick out your colors.” 

He’s off before Eddie can get a word in, Chrissy taps on his arm and he turns toward her. She has a knowing look on her face and he shakes his head no. She shrugs and drags him over to the colors. 

—

Eddie’s amaze at Steve for being able to keep up with all the bitchiness of the girls. Of course Eddie’s not paying that much attention because he’s holding his hand. Nobody told him a hot guy was going to hold his hands for about twenty minutes and he hasn’t even got the polish on yet. If he knew this he would be getting his nails done regularly. 

Even the strong smell of nail polish is bearable with Steve holding his hands. The only disappointing part is that it means nothing, which is a shame really, Eddie can see it now him and Steve could have a life together too bad this is a nail salon and chrissy is about to get married maybe he’d have time to flirt.

 He doesn’t realize he’s squirming in his seat until Steve says, “Relax your hands.” He’s

 pretty sure his face burns red when he says that. 

“It’s okay, it happens all the time.” Steve reassures, which doesn’t really calm Eddie’s nerves but he still tries. 

He looks around the salon to see Kelly talking her nail tech’s ear off and the poor girl is trying her best to keep up. Eddie also realizes that right next to Steve is a girl who isn’t doing any nails but is just chilling there. He also realizes that Steve and the girl are talking together, he worries that maybe the girl is Steve's girlfriend. 

“Robbie, I can’t just ask that I’m at work.” 

“Please, you’ve flirted at work before, dingus.” Robbie(?) responses with a flippant hand. ‘Oh great’ Eddie thinks of course he’s trying to flirt with one of the girls. What else was Eddie supposed to expect? They are all like Carl. It’s pretty disappointing to learn that this guy is just like the rest. 

“Is this the polish you picked out?” oh Steve’s talking to him again, ew is that butterflies in his stomach. He should not be getting butterflies for this straight guy. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says but it comes out as more of a question. 

“Great, it's a lovely color.” Steve replies with a gorgeous smile. Eddie wouldn’t have picked the color if it wasn’t for chrissy it’s a black with hints of purple to match his suit. 

The other bridesmaids are also wearing purple to match Chrissy’s light yellow dress. Chrissy is having a nature theme wedding so her braid is wearing greens and blues. He smiles remembering when he helped chrissy pick out her dress it matches her ring which is a gold butterfly. 

He watches as Steve paints his nails in silence until Steve speaks up. “So what brings you guys into the salon?” 

“Oh, my best friend, Chrissy is getting married and she wanted us all to get manipedis together.” Eddie answers with a small smile. He can’t believe that Chrissy is getting married. It feels just like yesterday since they met. 

“That’s lovely, you got a date to bring with you?” He questions. Eddie’s face burns red for what feels like the tenth time because he does not in fact have a date.

 If he did he’d probably not be blushing everytime he remembers that Steve is holding his hands. Because that’s the most intimate thing ever(how does Chrissy deal with doing this every month?)! Eddie might combust if he thinks about Steve holding his hands one more time. 

“No, no I do not.” Eddie answers with a shake of his head and accidentally moves his hand. “Shit, shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine you’ve been doing it the whole time.” Steve shrugs. That just serves to make Eddie blush harder, why hadn’t he asked Eddie to stop? Any other person would’ve gotten pissed by now. 

“Annnnd you’re done.” The girl calls from Steve’s shoulder. He sees Steve shoot her a glare. 

“Well technically you aren’t done, you still have to dry.” Steve points where the rest of the girls minus chrissy are talking with their hands under a table. He nods before standing up(he tries to be mindful of his nails). 

—

Once everyone’s nails are done it’s time to check out. Eddie mentally prepares himself for the price of the treatment. Molly and Danielle are both looking at their nails and gossiping about some boy named David at work. Chrissy is talking to her nail tech, which he believes his name is Win, short for Winston. Jenna and Kelly are talking to the girl next to Steve, who he believes goes by Robbie. Eddie’s just standing by the desk waiting for one of them to check them out. 

“Alright, are you guys ready?” Eddie startles when he hears Steve’s voice from behind him. 

“Uh- yes.” He says, sounding unsure. 

“How are you paying?” Steve questions with an encouraging smile. 

“Split payment, hey Chris it’s split payment six way even, right?” Eddie shouts hoping to catch her attention. 

“Yes, yes.” She waves him off with a cheeky smirk. 

“You heard the lady.” He smirks at Steve. 

“I put it all on separate payments. If you want to start, you can put your card in the reader.” Steve grins. 

Eddie pays for his then Jenna, Kelly, Danielle, Molly, and then Chrissy. Before they walk out Steve hands him a piece of folded paper that has the nail salon and the number to call. 

—

Before he walks into the venue for Chrissy to get married off he unfolds the paper and realizes it reads, ‘I enjoyed holding your hands hoping I can hold your hands for a different reason  -Steve’ with his number to call him. 

Eddie smiles to himself and folds the paper and puts it in his breast pocket before walking into the venue because first he needs to watch his best friend get married. 

[emily-mooon]

Noticed there wasn’t a ton of photocheer fanart and I wanted to change that (which why isn’t there more these two dorks are so cute together!!!!)

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7

Chapter 8: Master of Puppets

WC: 5053 | AO3 link

Eddie woke to the sound of a phone ringing in the distance and his head throbbing. 

He rolled over, cracking one sore and puffy eye open to find himself surrounded. The two boys were already up—Max and Erica too. A graveyard of empty cereal bowls lined the coffee table in front of them, while Saturday morning cartoons played quietly on the TV. 

Despite how miserable he felt, something about seeing these kids just… being kids, filled him with a surge of renewed affection for the little shits, and reminded him of all the countless reasons he had to not fuck this up again.

He drug himself up off the couch, grunting with the effort like a 90 year old man with aching bones and deteriorated joints, and made his way to the kitchen—called by the siren-smell of good strong coffee. Steve appeared in the doorway as he approached, watching the scene just as Eddie had with a fond look in his eyes. He held two mugs, handing one off with a lopsided grin. 

Eddie looked down at the drink, finding it pale with too much cream for most people’s preference, but exactly how he liked it, and could almost smell the tooth-rotting sweetness of the excessive amount of sugar. It was perfect. How did Steve know?

“I love seeing them like this.” Steve said quietly, taking a sip from his own cup. Eddie didn’t need to look to know his was black. Blasphemy. “They don’t get to do it enough.”

Eddie offered a sad smile, humming his agreement. He looked back over his shoulder at the kids, and could only imagine how three years of fighting interdimensional monsters had cut pretty severely into each of their childhoods. Steve’s too, really. They often got caught up in worrying about the younger teens but Steve would have been what, 16 or 17 when this started? 

Babies, all of them. 

He turned back to say as much, but Steve tipped his head towards the kitchen, beckoning Eddie to follow. 

“That was Joyce on the phone.” Steve began, standing close—too close for so early in the morning when Eddie’s defenses were down, speaking low to make sure no one else overheard, the rumbling tone of his voice threatening to set Eddie’s skin on fire. 

“Owens’ people are sending a car to pick them all up, today.”

“What about Hopper?” Eddie whispered.

Steve sighed. “Well, she had to tell the Doc a little about our situation to explain why she was contacting him.”

“How’d that go?”

“She said he was weirdly accepting of the whole time loop thing, almost like he wasn’t surprised? Which, I guess they do research all kinds of weird shit in those labs, and he’s worked with kids like El for years, so maybe it just wasn’t all that unexpected. He knew some things about Vecna—Henry, whatever. Once they got talking she decided to tell him about the ransom note too, figuring he might have the resources to get Hop out, and they certainly owe us at least this much. He said they would handle it.” 

He shrugged, clearly trying to appear unconcerned, but suddenly wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie knew him too well by now to be fooled. Something was bothering him about all this, even if he was trying to pretend like he was fine. 

“It’s okay if you’re worried. I know you don’t exactly trust these people.” Eddie said.

Steve tried to turn away, but like muscle memory Eddie reached out to lay a hand on his upper arm, giving him a knowing look.

“It’s stupid.” Steve said.

Eddie tightened his grip around Steve’s bicep, squeezing reassuringly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“First I was worried about her going out there, and now—I know she’s right, they probably have ways to get to him that are much safer than her and Murray just fucking off to Alaska to meet with god-knows-who, and I’m happy that it’ll keep her out of the line of fire…” 

“But?” Eddie prompted.

“But, if anyone can bring someone back from the presumed dead, it’s Joyce Byers. I don’t know how much you remember from back when Will went missing, but she never gave up. Not when they found a body in the quarry, or when the whole town treated her like she was crazy for believing her son was still alive. Against all odds she fought for him, went into the Upside Down and brought him home. I just… Hopper deserves that. Someone who cares enough to bring him home no matter what.”

This time Eddie couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Steve. At least now the other boy knew they’d been close before—friends. Friends could hug. 

As he had so many times before, he wished he could tell Steve that everything would be okay—but he just didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie and offer false words of comfort. 

To his surprise Steve hugged him back, tentative at first, but he quickly melted into Eddie’s embrace as though he were starved for touch. It felt wonderful and devastating all at the same time to touch Steve like this—and to have Steve’s arms around him again too. It was a painful reminder of all that he’d lost, but still he refused to be the one to let go first. 

“Thank you.” Steve said, pulling back and roughly clearing his throat.

All at once Eddie realized how quiet it was. Steve’s headphones sat down around his neck, which wasn’t weird in itself, it was something Eddie had seen Max and Chrissy do whenever their ears needed a break too, but they never let the music stop. Steve's song wasn’t playing at all, and Eddie couldn’t handle watching him be taken like that again. 

He reached up, lifting the earpieces back over Steve's head, fingers itching to caress his cheek as they brushed by. He clenched his fist instead. 

“Your tape stopped.” Eddie said, breathless, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

Steve’s wide eyes never left his face as he nodded absently. There was a sudden tension in the air stretched perilously tight between them and Eddie had to force himself to take a step back before it snapped. 

Shaking himself, Steve finally looked down, popping the tape out of his walkman to flip it and begin again, the volume set as low as it could be, and still be heard. 

Eddie took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” He asked, managing to sound almost normal. 

“The kids should probably go home or something, spend time with their families and stuff before things get worse. We’re still going to need to stock up on weapons, right? Even if El gets her powers back?” Steve asked.       

“Yeah.” 

“Feel like doing some shopping today?”

Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised. It made sense for all the same reasons that it had in the last loop. The War Zone was closed on Sundays, and there hadn’t been a single murder yet in town to raise the alarms with the public or the Hawkins PD. Still, he felt a shiver make its way up his spine at the idea of the past repeating itself. Thinking not only of the store, but what happened after. 

He did his best to push those thoughts way, way down.

“Sure. I’ll let you break the news to your children.”

“Our children.” Steve corrected, grinning.

Fuck.

Eddie gulped, backing his way out of the room, stammering, “I-I’ll go tell Robin and Chrissy t-to get ready.”

-

Predictably, the kids fought back, having no interest in being separated now. As before, they all decided to go to Mike’s together, and it wasn’t until Steve picked up the phone to call and let Nancy know the plan that Eddie realized she and Mike hadn’t come back this morning the way they did last time. Funny how some things changed while others stayed the same, without obvious rhyme or reason. 

The trip to The War Zone went smoothly and pretty much as Eddie recalled. He’d racked his brain on the drive there, wondering if there was anything they could have used more or less of. Fire seemed to be the most effective weapon against the creatures of the Upside Down, so the molotov cocktails were still a good choice. 

If only they could source an actual flamethrower. 

Ultimately he didn't think any different number or type of weapons would be what turned the tides. This thing would come down to a battle of wills, he’d bet his life on it. 

Nancy got quiet as they were unloading the supplies after returning from the store, and Eddie could almost hear the gears turning over in her mind. It was no surprise to him when she eventually spoke up. 

“I want to go look for Fred.” She began, holding up a hand before anyone could argue. “And I know what you’re going to say. If we couldn’t find him last time what’s the point—but you said his body turned up in the trees behind his house right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “Sometime overnight or early in the morning they found him.”

“Okay so, that’s a clue we didn’t have before, and a place I’m sure I wouldn’t have looked.”

“How about this—the three of us,” Robin jumped in, indicating Nancy, Chrissy, and herself, “can go for a fun-filled hike in the woods, and we’ll leave you two here to hold down the fort in case Joyce or Eleven calls.” 

She met Eddie’s gaze, winking at him like she was doing him a favor. He grit his teeth and scowled. How she’d caught on already that there was anything going on between him and Steve, he had no idea.

…Not that there was anything going on since he was doing everything in his power to stay far far away from that possibility right now.

Steve didn't seem to notice their little exchange, thankfully, and was only watching the three girls with obvious concern. “If that's what you want to do. Just… be safe, okay?”

“Always.” Robin said, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder before getting back into the car with Nancy and Chrissy. 

The anxiety Eddie had already been soaking in all day reached a critical level as he and Steve were left home alone together, and more than once he found himself obsessively staring at the spot on the kitchen floor where he’d first held Steve, as he fell apart after Vecna had so ruthlessly attacked him on this same afternoon in another life.   

He had to find some way to distract himself or he was going to lose it.

There was only one surefire way to settle at least some of his nerves, but Eddie was too afraid to go outside and smoke—afraid to let Steve out of his sight for even a second actually, and so when he wandered away from him—for the dozenth time—to the living room, Eddie had no choice but to follow. As he did he recalled the bag of tapes he knew was stashed in the entertainment center—bingo.

He moved to the cabinet and pulled it out, digging for the only decent film among the bunch, not caring that he’d just watched The Goonies a week ago. Ironically, he thought the familiarity of it might even offer him some comfort. He glanced back over his shoulder to ask Steve if he minded, only to find him with his headphones off and silent, again. 

“Dude, how many times—” Eddie stomped across the room, his concerned frustration at Steve's carelessness spilling over to rage. 

How hard was it to keep a fucking tape going? 

He reached for the walkman clipped to the other boy’s waistband and yanked it off him—huffing as he popped the tape out, flipped it over, and shoved it back in, jamming his finger into the play button so hard he almost broke the damn thing, before shoving it back into Steve’s hands. 

“It needs to be playing to work, asshole, and you really need to start keeping those on your ears more.” He flicked the hanging cord of the headphones as he leveled Steve with a hard glare. 

“It’s–they–they’re uncomfortable.” Steve mumbled in half-hearted defense of himself.

It occurred to Eddie suddenly that this had never been a problem for Steve before. He’d never forgotten to keep his tape running, and never once had he complained about having to wear the headphones. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Really, Harrington? Because I’m finding it hard to believe that you can’t deal with a little mild discomfort to keep that fucking monster at bay after all the other shit you’ve endured.”

“Okay, fine. Just… listen, If Vecna doesn’t attack me before we go after him, how can we be sure I’ll be on his radar—that he’ll take me as bait?”

“Wait, were you–were you leaving the music off on purpose so he could get to you? What the fuck, Steve?!” Eddie shouted.

“What was your plan then, huh? To make Chrissy play the lure? How is that fair?!” Steve yelled right back. 

Eddie honestly hadn’t thought it through that far yet, and maybe Steve had a point. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of poor Chrissy being put on the chopping block again, but this certainly wasn’t the answer.

“It’s not fair to you either!” Eddie growled. “It’s not fair, period!”

“I can handle it!” Steve bellowed, smacking himself in the center of his chest. “And if it’s gotta be someone—why not me, huh? At least I have experience with this stuff! At least El knows me a little! If this whole thing winds up hinging on her piggybacking in someone's brain again, isn’t it better—easier if it’s someone she knows?!”

Again Eddie was brought up short. He shook his head—he couldn’t argue with the bulk of Steve’s logic, but–

“You don’t know what you're signing yourself up for! You have no idea what he’s capable of! Steve, don’t do this to–”

“Why does it matter so much to you if he takes me anyway?!”

Eddie recoiled, feeling the force of Steve’s words like a slap in the face.  “What? What do you mean why? Steve, you’re my—” He snapped his mouth shut, fighting to retain control of himself even as he spiraled further into panic. 

“We’re friends. I care about you.”

Right in front of his eyes, Steve’s face hardened into a cruel mask. 

“Friends,” Steve mocked with a bark of laughter, mouth twisting into an unfriendly smile. “We’re not friends, not really—you do realize that right? If you hadn’t gotten yourself caught up in all this, I would have never said two words to you. Why would I?”

All the blood drained from Eddie’s face. It felt like he’d been kicked off the edge of a cliff. 

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought of himself. A nagging fear in the back of his mind, that any feelings Steve was developing for him were circumstantial at best, nothing that would stand up to any sort of test—that it wasn’t real. That Steve had only clung to him because he was there—convenient and willing. 

He’d thought, after the kiss– 

Well, he’d started to hope he was wrong. Almost believed it when Robin gave him so much shit for doubting Steve when they’d spoken in the woods. But here it was in front of him. Proof that he’d been right to worry. 

“Honestly,” Steve went on, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I’ve only been pretending to be nice to you so you’ll help us. Why else would I ever want to be associated with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“Wh–what are you saying?”

Eddie’s eyes grew wet, hot tears threatening to fall. Oh god, what an idiot he’d been. 

“Poor thing,” Steve cooed at him, all pouting lips and false sympathy. “You should know, when you told me you were gay?” He paused, shuddering. “I was completely repulsed. I had to pretend otherwise of course, so you’d cooperate, but it made me sick having to lay next to you night after night.”

“Wait, I didn’t…” Eddie breathed, a barely audible whisper. “But, that didn’t happen this time.”

Something was very, very wrong here. 

He started to slowly back up, eyes darting between the doorway to the kitchen and the hall leading to the front door, trying to calculate his best move.  

“You’re not Steve.”

“Not quite.” The thing that wasn’t Steve smirked, folding his hands together locked behind his back. “Hello, Eddie. We meet at last.”

He was still wearing Steve’s face, but the voice coming out of his throat was becoming something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous.

Any relief Eddie felt for the fact that it hadn’t really been Steve saying those awful things to him was overshadowed by the terror of meeting his enemy in person for the first time, and in his own domain no less.

“Fuck you.” Eddie spat, projecting a bravery he absolutely did not feel. 

Steve—Vecna began to pace a slow circle around him. “I don’t know how you’ve managed this trick, sending yourself back in time over and over again, but it’s no matter. I’ve seen what’s in your head now. I know what you and Eleven and all your little friends have planned. It won’t work.”

A guitar riff Eddie would never forget, even if he lived a thousand lifetimes, began to fill the air around him. Someone, somewhere was playing Master of Puppets for him—trying to pull him out of this place. Trying to save him. Hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about what Chrissy had described seeing the first time he’d successfully pulled her out of her trance, and searched around frantically for any signs of an opening or portal. 

Either unable to hear the music or uncaring that Eddie was in the process of being rescued, Vecna kept taunting him. 

“Of course, you already know that, having failed so many times before. I wonder why it is you even continue to try and fight the inevitable. This is your fate, Eddie, and his.” The monster gestured to himself, to the suit of familiar skin he wore, drawing Eddie’s attention back. 

The eyes—Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes that Vecna had stolen to use against him rolled back and began to bleed. With a loud crack his jaw dislocated, hanging loose, mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Another snap and his arm bent back the wrong way, broken.

Eddie choked back a sob, his heart shattering into even smaller pieces as he witnessed first hand what he already knew Steve had gone through, knowing he'd never be able to scrub the image from his mind. 

“The sooner you accept that, the sooner your suffering will come to an end.” The words spilled forth from the gaping maw that Steve’s mouth had become.

Eddie cried out, screaming his pain wordlessly.

The music picked up suddenly, getting louder as the song reached its middle, giving Eddie the strength to look away—and finally he spotted it, a faint glow like the promise of sunshine coming in through an open window, emanating from somewhere behind Vecna, through the doorway to the kitchen. 

He took a few stumbling steps back, the disfigured visage of Vecna-Steve following his every move, and faked a run for the front door, pivoting at the last second to switch direction down the hallway, entering the kitchen from its other side and dove into the hazy mirage head first without hesitation. 

-

Eddie came-to with a shuddering gasp. He was on the floor, headphones shoved over his head and Metallica blasting in his ears. Strong arms circled him from behind, rocking him gently as a soft voice mumbled the same three words over and over again. 

“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.”

“Stevie?” Eddie wheezed, out of breath and a little disoriented from his sudden fall back to reality. Which was saying something, considering he’d died and come back as many times as he had. He reached up, hesitantly pulling the headphones down around his neck. 

“Oh my god.” Steve let out a rush of breath, sounding relieved as he slid himself around to Eddie’s side, still cradling him in his arms. He looked Eddie up and down, as if assessing him for physical damage, a haunted look in his eyes.

“You’re okay?” Steve said. Part statement, part question.  

When he didn't answer right away Steve pursed his lips, concern evident on his face as he raised a hand up to gently brush the tears from Eddie’s wet cheeks. He hadn’t even known he was crying.

Eddie blinked up at him, caught between wanting to bury himself in the other boy’s chest, and the instinct to shove him away. He had Vecna’s vicious words stuck in his head now, replaying over and over again.

He knew it wasn’t real. Steve hadn’t said those things, would never have said those things. They weren’t his thoughts or feelings even if they were said with his voice. Eddie knew all of that, but still it was enough to taint what little comfort he might have allowed himself to take from Steve’s embrace.

That bastard had stolen Steve's face and used Eddie’s own insecurities against him, and it’d worked like a fucking charm. 

He sat up slowly, pushing Steve away with a firm hand on his chest. Steve frowned, actually tried to push back for a moment, to keep holding Eddie, before realizing what he was doing and backed off to give him space.  

“Is that… that was Vecna, right?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, it was him.” Eddie pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see stars. If only it would erase the image of Steve’s broken form from his mind.   

“I’m so sorry.”

Eddie dropped his hands from his face abruptly to stare at the other boy. “What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, incredulous.

“You tried to tell me how bad it was and I–I argued with you. That was the most terrifying few minutes of my life, and I was going to force you to watch that—again! How many times did you have to watch it happen to Chrissy? To me? I’m such an asshole” Steve closed his eyes, sniffling as he shook his head. “I’d still rather it be me than you, or Chrissy, or any of the kids, but it was… selfish of me to put you in the position to have to save me again on purpose. So, I’m sorry” 

“It’s not—you’re not selfish, and you’re not an asshole either.” Eddie sighed heavily. “And I hate to admit it, but you may have had a point. We can’t bait Vecna with something he doesn’t want, someone he isn’t actively after. I guess now that someone’s gonna be me.”

“How will that work? You’re just as much of a stranger to El as Chrissy is.”

Eddie tightened his jaw, readying himself for another fight, but Steve quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I'm not–I'm not trying to—I'm just raising a concern.”

“I’m not letting anyone else go through that if we don’t have to, ok? We’ll ask El about it when we can, and go from there.”

Steve nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

-

Steve searched through his closet and dug up his old walkman for Eddie to use since he’d given his own up for Chrissy. There was nothing wrong with it, just an outdated model. A new pair of batteries and he was all set.

They made Eddie’s tape in relative silence, save for the music itself which they kept turned low to save his head—a side effect of the Vecna attack being a massive fucking headache.

The girls returned a few hours later, looking completely dejected and exhausted. They still hadn’t been able to find Fred.

Nancy didn’t stay long, wanting to get back to her own house to keep an eye on the kids, and it wasn’t until she left that the other two noticed the change in Eddie, and what he now wore over his head. 

Chrissy came up to him first, throwing her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek on his chest. “Oh no, Eddie, you too?”

He hugged her back, and as bad as the day had been, he couldn’t help smiling to himself a little. He’d been so sure that he had ruined any chance of friendship with her this time around, but the easy affection gave him hope that it wasn’t a lost cause just yet. 

“I’m okay, Chris.” He assured her as they separated. “Harrington had my back.”

-

In a bid for normalcy, and while they had nothing better to do, Steve ordered some takeout for all of them to share while Eddie put his movie on—hours later than intended, but better late than never. 

He tried to enjoy it—the food, the conversation, hanging out with these people he’d come to care for like family—but his heart was in the past. Instead of the TV screen in front of him he saw Steve fighting off a grin as he’d watched Eddie flutter around the kitchen cooking for them. In place of the drink in his hand, he felt the warm press of Steve’s palm in his, remembering the way he’d laced their fingers together and held on all the way upstairs that night. 

Giggles coming from the other side of the room were what brought Eddie back to the present, and he glanced over to see that Chrissy and Robin had drifted awfully close to one another on the couch they shared, even resting their heads together as he watched.  

Not thinking he nudged Steve's shoulder with his own to point it out, wondering when they themselves had gotten this close, and tilted his head in the girls direction. 

Steve glanced over, smiling at first but then his body went visibly tense, eyes guarded as he looked back at Eddie.

Oh.

“You don’t have to worry I–” Eddie only barely managed to stop himself from coming out, though he wasn’t sure why, and changed course mid sentence. “I'm cool with—Robin. I just think it’s sweet that they’re getting close again.”

Steve took him at his word, relaxing immediately. “Again?” He whispered back excitedly.

Eddie nodded and went back to watching the girls, glad that this particular thing was a staple of the loops. 

Once the credits rolled and the girls made their way up to bed, Eddie helped Steve clean up, picking up trash and carrying their few dishes to the sink. He fled as soon as they were done, saying a quick goodnight before rushing to the downstairs bathroom to change and laying himself down on the couch, the big one this time. Dustin had been right, it was a lot more comfortable. 

He assumed he’d gotten away with it, that Steve had already gone up the stairs, but less than a minute later Steve came striding into the room carrying two blankets. He tossed one to Eddie before wrapping the other around himself, and settled down on the other couch. 

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Steve.”

They both sat up, staring daggers at each other from across the room.

Steve broke the standoff first. “I don’t think you should be alone. What if something happens, or your tape runs out? Since you seem to have something against sleeping in a bed with me again, I figured I'd just join you down here. It’s fine.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Eddie grumbled. 

So much for keeping this one boundary, but he’d manage somehow. He suspected Steve still felt like he must have done something wrong before, and Eddie couldn’t live with him feeling guilty over something that wasn’t his fault. And, he supposed, there was no use in both of them sleeping on couches when there was a perfectly good bed upstairs.

Eddie reluctantly got up, flinging a throw pillow at Steve’s smug face as he did. “Come on then, big boy. Lead the way.”

-

In the familiar comfort of Steve's room, Eddie laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, hugging his side of the bed to keep as much space as possible between them. He was exhausted from the attack, from the day in general, but his heart pounded as he found himself surrounded by all things Steve. His scent on the sheets, his pillow under Eddie’s head, his clothes strewn about the room.

He breathed it all in deep, and, still keeping his eyes pointed forward, finally dared to ask the question.

“How did you know what song to play for me?”

Steve shifted around, turning on his side to face him. 

“It was the tape from your Walkman. The kids took it out last night after they made Chrissy’s and left it sitting out on the table. It was a lucky guess, really. I just hoped that whatever you had been listening to last would work.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He’d survived by simple chance and dumb luck, and sure he was old hat at dying by now, but it didn't make the idea any less scary. He turned too, meeting Steve's eyes through the dark. 

“Thank you, that was… good thinking.”

“I was so afraid it wouldn’t work. One second we were screaming at each other and then you went so still. Your eyes rolled back and–” Steve’s voice cracked, unable to finish.

“I know.” Eddie whispered. And he did know, far too well, what it was like to feel so powerless.

He started to reach out, wanting so badly to cup Steve’s cheek or pull him close, but let his hand drop to the bed between them mid-motion. Steve slid his own hand closer, inch by inch until their pinkies touched, and then oh-so-slowly, he tucked his whole hand under Eddie's, entwining their fingers and gripping him tight. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t worked.”

Eddie swallowed a whine, praying Steve couldn't hear it, and squeezed back. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, though he knew with every touch came the potential to break him beyond repair. 

Chapter 9

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated and if you want to be tagged, just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer

[robthegoodfellow]

Fingers-in-my-word-doc Friday:

In honor of Friday, gimme a line several paragraphs from your latest WIP or project that involves hands. (Search-find hand, hands, fingers, fingerpad, nails, wrist, palm, thumb, heel, lifelines etc)

Tagged by @ihni, who has excellent timing. Using this as excuse to post preview of long delayed next chapter of Only One Bed:

The Catholic church on the edge of town rang its bells thrice a day—six in the AM, noon, six in the PM—and that first round of distant, steady clanging roused Billy from fitful sleep, however briefly, every morning without fail. He was used to it, even before moving to Hawkins; the Lutherans liked to do the same at his childhood church in San Diego.

That morning, he would’ve drifted off again—closing shift later—if not for a couple distracting factors. Number one, he had to piss, and usually he’d just roll out and stumble back without a thought because Ed slept like the dead once he was down, except that, number two, cuddled along Eddie’s side, his arm looped limp around her back, was… Chrissy. Who’d shifted, eyes fluttering, the moment Billy sat up. 

Her enquiring hum was more a soft grunt.

“Sorry,” he whispered, barely audible over the hiss of the sheets as he slid free. “Gotta pee.”

Another hum, faintly acceding, like I’ll allow it, and Billy bit down on a bubble of mirth, spent his time before the porcelain throne and his foggy wander back to the bed a bit dumbfounded, awestruck in a way that made his chest tight, this balloon inside expanding past capacity.

It was Sunday. This time last week, he’d been bracing to lose something, not… find something. Gain something. 

He’d assumed pushing Chrissy and Eddie together would necessarily push Billy and Eddie apart. Billy would be the one giving, not… getting. 

Never in his wildest imagining had Billy anticipated last night. That, holding Eddie out to her, poised for release, Chrissy would grab onto them both. Together, but also—separately. 

And Billy never expected he’d so badly want to grab onto her in return.

Quiet as he could, he slipped between the sheets, sat propped against the headboard, and seeing them snuggled in the dark set off that same buoyant burst as before. Not just for Eddie. The pang of possessive fondness… it was for her, too. 

Possessive and protective. Chrissy had fallen apart, let him tend to the pieces, bundle her up safe, and it was almost desperate, irrational, how much he wanted to be there when she needed that, but also…

He swallowed, rubbing his chest like that would calm whatever was wrestling for purchase, and tried to parse the chaos, the known and familiar feelings from the rest.

Because the past week had stomped all over the sandy bottom of his psyche, stirred what he tried so hard to keep submerged until it was nothing but swirling murk. And when it got like that, the best thing to do was keep real still, wait for it to settle.

Slight movement beneath a pillow, and his gaze cut to the slender hand as it emerged to nudge his own, resting on the mattress by his hip. Chrissy gave no other sign of being awake, and maybe she wasn’t, maybe she was just stretching in her sleep… but when he turned his hand, lightly held her fingers, brushing his thumb over soft knuckles, she squeezed, a brief pulse, weak from lying lax so long.

It lanced through him, this urge to scoop her up and really squeeze, so tight and consuming that it smothered everything bad.

Clingy, he diagnosed. He, Billy Hargrove, was feeling fucking clingy.

.

zero pressure tags: @imsodishy @fizzigigsimmer @passivenovember @shieldofiron @spaceofentropy and anyone else who wants to 💛

[imsodishy]

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given a word. share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that start with each letter of that word.

@robthegoodfellow tagged me (sooooo long ago, I'm sorry Rob but I started doing it and instead ended up actually working on the wip and then finished and posted Take a Step That is New, so actually, thank you Rob! and now it's wip wednesday anyway)

My word was SLEEP (I've been switching off between episodes of Four's Company so these are all from those)

S - “Sledgehammer,” Robin says, like it means something. Billy stares gormlessly at her while he tries to parse her point. She looks pointedly down around his knees, then back at his face even more pointedly. Billy’s got nothing. “You’re still holding the sledgehammer,” she says slowly. 

Oh, so he is.

L - Looking around for a street sign, or a sign from on high that she’s crazy and should just give up, she instead spots a neon diner sign and decides maybe the map will be easier to read if she’s not hunched over the steering wheel, and with a hot coffee in her hand. 

E - Eddie returns, triumphant, with the balled up green flyer held aloft at the same moment Billy re-emerges from the laundry room with a full hamper on his hip. Eddie doesn’t bother trying to hide the flyer as they stare each other down. 

E -Evidently, sometime in the night, Heather somehow migrated sort of onto his back. With her face pressed between his shoulder blades she feels like a lizard on a hot stone, which would probably be nicer if it wasn't late August and muggy enough to make their hair frizz.

P - Panic, deep and familiar, thrums in his guts. It’s the Max isn’t doing what she’s supposed to be panic, that for about six years meant nothing but a shitstorm for him.

no pressure tags your word is MEAT @rigginsstreet @izzyspussy @shieldofiron @ghostlynimbus @magniloquent-raven @robthegoodfellow (that's right it's been so long that I'm hitting you back 😛) 💜

[cunninghamchrissie]

Talk to me about Hellcheer sneaking out (at least sneaking Chrissy out of her house) to do something wholesome like getting ice cream or watching fireworks.

yes it's been over a month since this ask i wasn't ignoring it time is just meaningless atp

when eddie first suggested it, chrissy had immediately scoffed.

she couldn't just sneak out of her house, not with laura cunningham's ears trained to catch any nightly noise lest chrissy should try and grab a midnight snack from the kitchen (that was a mistake she'd made only once, when her stomach hurt so bad she was bent over in pain. and though laura had missed chrissy's light steps on the staircase, she heard the crunch of the dry, wholegrain toast chrissy was scarfing down as if it was the best meal she'd ever had. the finger-shaped bruises on her arm from being dragged back upstairs didn't fade for weeks).

but the seed has been planted despite herself. it's wednesday night, and her body can't lie still in bed.

kicking the covers off herself, chrissy quietly gets dressed, then sits back down on her bed to call eddie. she has to take a few deep breaths after picking up the receiver, the adrenaline at the possibility of doing something so forbidden already coursing through her. should she even be calling him? she knows wayne works the night shift at the plant, but what if eddie's sleeping and she'll disturb him?

but then she glances at her bedside table alarm clock, the bright red 9:17 p.m. on the display mocking her. eddie would never go to bed that early.

chrissy finally dials eddie's number, and he picks up on the third ring.

"munson manor, this is the butler speaking."

"eddie?"

"hey, princess! to what do i owe the honor?"

"uhm, well. i-i just wanted to let you know that i'm sneaking out tonight."

eddie snorts, leaning his shoulder on the wall by the phone.

"y'know," he starts, biting down on a smirk, "people don't usually announce when they're gonna sneak out. kinda defeats the whole purpose."

"oh."

he can almost hear the cogs in chrissy's brain turning through the silence on her end, and he can't help himself from picturing the cute confused face she must be making.

"okay. so, i guess i'll see you tom-"

"i'm kidding! i'll be there in 15."

---

eddie does his best to drive slowly when he gets to chrissy's neighborhood so the van doesn't wake up half of the uptight, must-be-in-bed-by-nine people that live there, and it's just about the hardest thing he's ever done.

this thing they have is pretty new, and his brain hasn't quite caught up with the fact that he gets to call chrissy his girlfriend and pick her up when she suddenly decides to sneak out of the house in the middle of the week. so, excuse him if he gets a little hyper about it and wants to drive around at 90 miles per hour screaming at the top of his lungs.

instead, he parks the van a couple houses down, kills the engine and the light, and waits for a little blonde jellybean of a person to poke her head out of her front door, look around as if she's in a spy movie, and scurry to him.

---

"so why did you want me to sneak out?"

becauseiwannahangoutwithyouallthetime is the answer that really wants to come out of eddie's mouth, but he actually does have a legitimate reason this time.

"oh, uhm, rick decided to buy an ice cream truck."

"who's going to buy ice cream from reefer rick?"

"hah, no, he's not actually gonna sell ice cream. he's just gonna use it as a front. but, uhm, he didn't actually realize that the previous owner left it fully stocked, so…"

chrissy's eyes sparkle at that. she can't remember the last time she had ice cream, only being allowed half a snow cone with one drizzle of syrup during summer since she was 10.

eddie drives them out to rick's (who's laying low out of town for a couple weeks) and even in the darkness chrissy can see the bright blue and pink stripes covering the entire truck. the image of a mean-looking drug dealer driving it makes her giggle; at least eddie's van is a little more subtle than that.

letting himself into the truck, eddie opens the hatch and tries to put on a ratty, once-white ice cream man hat over his curls, but gives up when it won't stay on.

"so, what will it be, sweetness?"

chrissy's stomach does a little swoop both at the term of endearment she's still not used to hearing, and at the sheer amount of options on the hanging menu. how is she supposed to know what to pick? and what if she picks something she doesn't like and is forced to finish it (because it's just rude to throw it away like that, not to mention a waste of food)? and what if she picks something that eddie doesn't like, and then he won't want to kiss her afterwa--

"chrissy."

eddie breaks her out of the anxiety spiral, seeing through to the heart of her like always.

"i'll pick one so we can share, yeah?"

eddie chooses a king cone, and ends up eating most of the ice cream at chrissy's request, but she nibbles on the crunchy cone, and giggles when eddie makes a show of inhaling the rest of it when chrissy hands it to him, declaring she's full.

he drives her home just before 1 a.m. and chrissy doesn't even bother brushing her teeth before bed, not wanting to wash away the feeling of his sticky vanilla kisses of her lips.

[ymaohoh]

Chrissy Cunningham is a Brat - Fic - Oneshot

Munson suddenly gripped hold of her ass so tightly she hissed. “If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to have to punish you.” Jason sees Chrissy and Eddie in the woods. Jason POV. Hellcheer Oneshot.

Word Count: 1,904

No plot. Just smut.

Also on Archive of Our Own.

---

Well, your love is worse

Worse than cigarettes

Even if I had twenty in my hands

**

Jason Carver thought he knew his girlfriend. 

Thought Chrissy Cunningham was just like him. They were from the same backgrounds - nice homes, rich parents, good traditional morals and ethics. They’d been boyfriend and girlfriend since junior year when he tied his letterman jacket around her shoulders and told her thought it was time they made it official.  Over the course of that year they moved through the ranks and became really popular - he the hotshot athlete, she the pretty cheerleader - and when Chrissy made cheer captain in senior year he knew they were a cinch to be the King and Queen of Hawkins High. It was a cliche for a reason. His parents had met in a similar way. 

And yeah that popularity came with side-benefits. And yeah he often abused those benefits because some kids needed a healthy dose of ass-whooping, you know? Needed to know which rung of the social ladder they belonged on. It stopped them from getting too big for their boots. He never did anything illegal but he sure bent some rules. 

Chrissy didn’t know about any of that though and his team mates were sworn to secrecy. It was the same bro-code for their girlfriends. None of the teachers would dare make trouble either. His father was good friends with the school governors and would see they were fired if they dared try. 

Chrissy was a good girl. She had the right attitude and ideals as him. She went to church and played at cheerleading and looked good and neat in her little uniform. 

He would marry her after graduation. His parents would buy them a house nearby and she would give him a couple of kids and no talkback. She’d keep the house real nice while he went to college and in a few years he’d be fucking govenor. The wheels were already in motion. This has all been arranged before middle school. 

So when Patrick told him he’d seen Chrissy talking to Eddie Munson of all people Jason told him he was tripping. Why would anyone want to speak to him? 

Eddie Munson was a piece of shit trouble maker. Third generation trailer trash. A juvenile delinquent. 

“I know what I saw, man. They were whispering together in the library just before first period. Chrissy near jumped into the air when she saw me.” 

“Chrissy wouldn’t talk to that freak.”

“Want help finding him, Jase? Give him a reminder of what a creep he is?”

“Nah man. I need to talk to Chrissy first. Maybe he was just bugging her.”

What the hell?

But when he reached the cafeteria at lunch Chrissy wasn’t sitting at their usual table. She didn’t have one of her private tutoring sessions either. He glanced over at the freak table and his eyes narrowed when he saw Eddie wasn’t there either. 

He stormed over and clapped one of the freshmen on the shoulder. Hard. 

“Where’s your asshole leader?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Shouldn’t he be here making a jackass out of himself like usual?”

The kid with floppy black hair said, “Look man, he’s not here. I don’t know where he is. We don’t want any trouble.” 

He asked around his table some more and eventually got wind of a clue. People wanted to help Jason (even if they needed a little encouragement sometimes).  A passing cheerleader overheard (Stacey something) and said they thought they saw Chrissy out by the football fields just a few minutes ago. She’d been heading out towards the forest. There was a meeting spot down that way, she added, and Eddie Munson sold weed there. 

Jason waved away Patrick’s offer of help and stormed over. He didn’t need back up to take on Eddie Munson. 

He’d beat the shit out of that creep if he was selling weed to Chrissy. Or even if he wasn’t. What if he’d lured Chrissy out here on some made up pretence and was now bothering her? Chrissy was sometimes way too trusting for her own good. 

I’ll save you, Chrissy.

He followed Stacey’s directions and crept through the woods. He’d never been out here before. He couldn’t see any damn bench. 

But then he heard voices. He heard Chrissy’s voice! She sounded weird. Breathless almost. 

He drew closer and peered through the trees. The scene before him made him pause. His insides turned to raging fire. 

Jason had told her once that “ Good girls like you don’t go near creeps like Eddie Munson .” She hadn’t asked him why. 

Chrissy was with Munson, alright. 

** 

Oh, this body high

Gives me sleepless nights

It's a million times what any drug could give

And my red eyes

They go twice as wide

It might look like pain but to me it's bliss

They were sitting at the old picnic bench. Or rather, Chrissy was sitting on the top of the picnic bench with her bare knees splayed wide. Her short green and white cheerleading skirt was hiked up so high that he could just about see the creamy skin of her ass. 

And Eddie the Freak was standing right in between her legs. 

Chrissy had her back to Jason so he could make out Munson’s arms wrapped around her waist. He was holding her so tightly the line of his leather jacket was pressed against Chrissy’s cheer sweater. At least she wasn’t wearing Jason’s God-damn letterman jacket today. He stared at the entwined couple in horror. 

Jason didn’t know why he remained hidden. Maybe he just wanted to hear for himself what the hell was going on. 

“Eddie…” she sighed in a voice he had never heard before. She never said his name like that. “We have to be more careful. Patrick almost saw us this morning.”

“Fuck Patrick. Fuck your boyfriend.” Munson’s voice was unrecognisable too. Low and raspy. 

“If they find out what we’re doing, they’ll hurt you. You know they will. We have to keep this a secret.”

“It’s hard, Chriss. You know how riled up I get when I see you. Especially when you’re in that cheerleading uniform. How’s a man supposed to focus in class when those lips of yours look so fucking delictable. Makes me just want to taste them.”

Jason watched as they began to kiss but it wasn’t anything like how he kissed Chrissy. Chrissy usually held still when they made out, but this Chrissy was kissing Munson like she couldn’t get enough of him. He could see the way she opened her mouth wide for him so he could slip in his tongue. 

Munson nipped at her neck and she giggled. “Eddie! You’re not listening to me.” 

Munson’s hands were roaming across her back and down to her hips. Chrissy reached down and took his hand, stilling it. 

“I’m listening, baby. We have to be more careful. No more little looks. No more notes. No way the school can find out that goodie two-shoes Chrissy Cunningham likes being fucked by the freak Eddie Munson.”

He rocked his hips up against her and she gasped at the impact. 

“Like that, baby?”

“Mmm. You know I do.”

“Say it then. Tell me how much you like it.”

Jason couldn’t see but he could guess from the look on Munson’s face she was pulling one of her cute little pouts. She raised her chin defiantly. “Or what? You’ll walk away? I know you like this too. I can feel how much you like it. You’re fucking rock hard for me.”

Munson suddenly gripped hold of her ass so tightly she hissed. 

“If you’re going to behave like a brat, I’m going to have to punish you.”

��What are you going to do? Spank me? Pull my hair?”

Munson ceased his movements and though he kept hold of her, he drew his hips back a little to put some distance between them. 

Jason hated how Chrissy seemed to groan at that. 

“You love it when I spank you, Chriss. You always get so fucking wet from it. Remember a month ago at Reefer Rick’s where you came so beautifully on my cock? I couldn’t believe how wet you were. You made the most pretty noises, baby.”

“I remember Eddie.”

“Then what did we do?”

“I put your cock in my mouth and you went down on me at the same time.”

“You tasted so good, Chriss. Like strawberries and cream. You were gagging ‘round my cock, babe. You got it so far down that little throat.” 

Munson began tracing circles down her thighs. Chrissy was leaning into him brazenly, reaching again for contact with his body. 

Jason didn’t recognise this Chrissy at all. It was like she was one of those girls on porn tapes. He heard the gentle clink of metal as Chrissy began undoing the heavy belt. The noise of a zip being dragged down was almost obscene. 

“Oh Eddie, please. I want you now.”

“What? One look at my cock and you fall in line? Tell me what I want to hear.”

They kissed again and it was passionate and needy. Chrissy was almost shaking from want. 

“I love being fucked by Eddie Munson.”

“You missed this cock didn’t you, princess? Tell me how much you missed it,” Eddie said, his voice low and quiet. He traced her face with his fingers and tipped her chin up

“I missed it so much. I couldn’t even pay attention in class. All I could think about is how much I want you.”

“Good girl.”

Munson dragged down Chrissy’s underwear and shoved it in his back pocket. He once again wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her close to him. His other arm snaked under her knee, pushing it back so he could get as deep as possible. 

Jason heard Chrissy hiss as Munson’s cock slid inside her. 

“Fuck, Eddie. You’re so big. You feel so big inside me.”

“That’s it, baby. Take every inch in.”

“It feels so good.”

Munson began rutting up into her and Chrissy dug her nails into his shoulders. She then twisted a hand up into his long curls which made Munson groan. 

“I know. It’s why you keep coming back. Fucking Carver won’t do this, will he? Wants to wait until he’s got that ring on your finger.”

“ Eddie …”

“But Carver won’t be able to do this, Chriss. It won’t feel like this.”

“No,” she moaned. “You’re so fucking perfect, Eddie. You fit inside me so good.”

“That’s it, Chriss.”

“Make me come Eddie. Make me scream.”

“Hold onto me, baby…I’ve got you.” 

 **

Jason couldn’t watch anymore. 

Fuck this. 

A big part of him wanted to charge over there and knock that disgusting smug look off Munson’s face. Wanted to wipe away that look of utter need from Chrissy’s. But he didn’t. He turned away and stormed off back towards the school. 

Fuck that freak. Fuck that slut. They were welcome to each other. 

He didn’t see Eddie’s gaze on his back. Or the winning smirk that played on his lips. 

Well, if it's unhealthy then I don't give a damn

'Cause even if it kills me, I'll always take your hand

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

A/N: A/N: You know, writing for Jason ain't fun. He's an asshole but the actor who plays him is so nice in interviews. Ah well. Enjoy some Hellcheer fucking. Lyrics are from Unhealthy by Anne-Marie and Shania.

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

I read this amazing idea and this sorta wrote itself. I hope it's everything you were hoping for @piratefishmama

"ugh. fuck," Steve groaned into his pillow. He'd never felt worse.

What the hell happened last night?

It was dark, but there was daylight trying to peek through the curtains, so it must be morning.

Wait. Curtains?

Steve didn't own curtains, and neither did Robin.

Steve tried to focus his alcohol-soaked brain on his surroundings; he was in a hotel room, that much was obvious, and there was a napkin sitting under last night's wine glass on the bedside table, but as he reached over to rescue it, Steve caught a glimpse of a ring on his finger. Weird. Steve didn't often wear jewellery, rarely ever wore rings but... ah! Vegas!

Of course! Their post-firing Vegas trip. Steve turned his head on the pillow and automatically regretted it.

"ugh. robin," Steve murmured, "Robin," he tried a bit louder. She was still ignoring him, curled up in all the blankets, sleeping peacefully when Steve was suffering. Such a blanket hog, Steve thought churlishly. "ROBIN! Ow, fuck!" Steve hid his face back in his pillow, shouting was not the way to go.

"stop yelling," the body in the blankets grouched. Because holy fuck that most definitely was not Robin! "Who the fuck is Robin?" the guy groaned, finally deigning to stick his head out of the covers.

Steve lifted his head and blinked owlishly. That was a face he most definitely did not know. Jesus Christ! Steve launched himself upright, only just realising that he was fucking starkers in bed with a complete stranger. "Who the fuck are you?"

The guy had the nerve to smirk as Steve tried and failed to cover his modesty, but at least had the decency to pretend to be removing the sleep from his eyes in order to give him a modicum of privacy.

"Eddie," he introduced with a half-wave, that stupid grin still gracing his lovely features, "wha' 'bout you, Big Boy?" Eddie asked, cheekily waggling his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve could feel the blush burning his cheeks, he didn’t have control of enough of his faculties to deal with this, going home and pretending this never happened seemed like a great idea right about now. Steve slid himself to the edge of the bed, placing his head delicately in his hands, gearing himself up to get moving, preferably without seeing the contents of his stomach. “Steve,” he muttered.

He could hear movement from the other side of the bed, the sheets moving sounding like Eddie was rolling a dumper truck through the room, followed by a blissful silence that was only broken by a quiet "err, Steve?"

"yeah?" he whispered, not that it really did anything to ease the throbbing in his skull.

Eddie moved again and when Steve looked over, Eddie had leaned across the bed onto the pillow Steve had vacated, trying to get a better look at his hunched form, worrying his lip. Odd, he doesn't seem the type. "You aren't- are you? Wearing a ring?"

Huh? Steve's eyebrows scrunched together, he's not exactly used to waking up in bed with a stranger, but minor lifestyle choices aren't one of Steve's main concerns right now. "Yeah. Why? Men can't wear jewellery?" Steve sniped.

Eddie rolled his eyes so hard he was in danger of losing them, lifting both hands to show Steve the many rings he wore on his fingers. "No. Don't be dense!" Eddie reproached, waited a moment and sighed deeply at Steve's visible confusion, "Look at the finger it's on."

Shifting his left hand in front of his face, Steve glared at the plain gold band glinting up at him from his ring finger. It took a second but when the realisation finally dawned it knocked all the breath out of him, "oh. shit."

Steve looked over at Eddie wide-eyed to find him nodding in agreement with the sentiment. "Yeah. Oh. Shit." Eddie echoed.

This just didn't make sense! It'd been a long time since Steve had consumed so much alcohol, he probably hadn't been that drunk since high school, yet somehow someone thought he was in a fit state to enter into a legal contract! "I don't even- they can't've let us? We were drunk!"

Eddie just shrugs, doesn't look even nearly upset enough for Steve's liking. Steve glares at him trying to convey how insane this situation is, Eddie just gives him a look that says "it is what it is". Steve continued glaring, an internal monologue of this is insane, why aren't you freaking out? I'm freaking out! We're strangers and now we're married and oh god we're gonna have to get divorced! I'm gonna be divorced! I don't wanna be divorced! which clearly just frustrates him because Eddie just throws his hands in the air and shouts, "We're in Vegas!"

And suddenly all the fight sucks out of Steve, he slumps back over covering his face with his hands, feeling the slide of metal against his cheek and mutters "fuck. we're in vegas."

But he didn't come here alone! Robin! His best friend and platonic soul mate. And oh how Steve adores her because she's smart, she'll know what to do! "I need to find Robin!" Steve decides, jumping up off the bed, and immediately standing perfectly still so the room stops spinning. I just need to get dressed and find Robin, she'll know how to fix this!

Eddie still hasn't moved from his spot, lounging elegantly across the pillows, the sheet draped gracefully over him like some kind of artist's model. He raises a judgemental eyebrow at Steve, "Robin?"

Unhooking his jeans from the lampshade, Steve grins at Eddie, he's not the first person to assume they're an item. "My best friend," Steve clarifies, but Eddie doesn't look convinced, if anything he looks even more pissed off, his face doing that complicated, pissed off, 'I'm assuming I'm being lied to', twist snarl.

Steve looks, really looks, at Eddie. Steve doesn't know much about him, other than the fact that he's incredibly pretty because really eyes that big and beautiful should only be allowed on magazine covers! He's completely covered in tattoos, which is so hot, not to mention those rings! And he's cheeky as fuck and absolutely unafraid to stand up for himself, which is a first for Steve. People who don't know him usually find him a little intimidating, which is insane, but Robin assures him it's a them thing, not a him thing. And although that's barely anything to know about a person, Steve'd already dearly love to know who'd dare to hurt him, he'd just like to chat, honest. "She's a lesbian," he adds, just to really drive his point home.

It seems to surprise Eddie, his eyebrows shoot up before he grins back at Steve, all teeth and sparkling eyes, trying to hide his face in his mane! Because that's really the only way to describe the majesty of his hair. And oh he's blushing, that's adorable. Eddie clears his throat, sitting up a little straighter, "oh. Yeah. I should probably find Chris," he agrees like he's saying what he's thinking out loud, quickly clarifying, "she also likes women."

They're smiling gently at one another when the phone starts to ring, Steve striding back to the bedside to answer it, hearing Robin shout "Steveeeeee!!"

That sets the ringing off in Steve's ears again, ow! "Robin, shh!" Steve chastises.

Robin's uninhibited by Steve's grouchiness, "I just wanted to say... Congratulations!" she singsongs.

"You know about that?!" Steve's utterly bewildered, surely she wouldn't...

"We were there!" she shouts excitably, as though she'd personally been invited to Area 51, instead of witnessing something as stupid as Steve getting married, while too drunk to even remember the name of his husband.

husband! Steve thinks pathetically.

"we?" he asks meekly, hoping beyond hope he hadn't done something ridiculous like invite his mother or his ex.

"Me and Chris!" Robin shouts, in the background he hears another voice woo-hoo and then say something incomprehensible that makes Robin giggle.

Steve sighs, rolls his eyes because of course! And purposefully catching his eye, smiles exasperatedly at Eddie, "they're together," he informs him.

Eddie snorts a laugh and shrugs, "makes sense," he murmurs as though this is all completely normal behaviour. Maybe it is for them, Steve doesn't bloody know.

Turning back to his phone conversation, Steve asks, "Why'd you let me do that, Rob?" It comes out as whiny and pathetic as he feels, forcefully rubbing his forehead to try to ease the tension building there.

Robin barks a laugh, and she's right it is funny, no one's ever been able to stop Steve from doing anything he set his mind to. Doesn't mean he doesn't want someone else to blame for the fact that he doesn't remember his own wedding and that he's going to be divorced before he's thirty!

"You're in LOVE, Stevie! Who am I to stand in the way of love?"

Robin always manages to explain the most bizarre things as though they're completely ordinary, making them sound almost reasonable. It baffles Steve every damn time. Like she just said "You were sick Steve, so I took you to the doctor" instead of "You're in love with someone you met yesterday, so the obvious solution was a drunken wedding"!

Steve sighed, trying not to be annoyed with her, "Bobbie, I met Eddie less than 24 hours ago! What am I, a fucking Disney Princess?" the vitriol soaking his words would've upset most people, but Robin never flinched, even when he was being the world's biggest dick.

He could practically hear her eye roll through the phone, "No Dingus, you're not a Princess!" she sounded almost sympathetic for a second, but she couldn't hold back the bubble of laughter, "You're a King!" she proclaimed, cackling so hard she snorted.

She hadn't let up about "King Steve" since she’d found his yearbook, signed by all his dickhead "friends". She thought high school cliques were ridiculous, thought prom was even worse, and the idea that Steve had been so popular he'd been elected as an imaginary sovereign as part of their fabricated hierarchy had her rolling around the floor laughing for a solid ten minutes.

"Jesus Christ!" Steve muttered pinching the bridge of his nose, nothing was ever as funny as she thought it was when she was drunk, especially not when she was funny-drunk and he wasn't nearly drunk enough.

Robin stopped laughing abruptly and gasped as though she'd forgotten something. "Steve. Stevie. Evievievie! Guess what, I haven't been to bed yet!" she declared proudly. Steve had no idea what time it was, but as far as he knew the last time she'd slept had been on the plane, and that hadn't exactly been for very long.

"Maybe it's time for bed then?" Steve reasoned, trying to hold on to the last of his patience.

"No! Nooo, I'm with a girl," she whispered conspiratorially. oh jesus! Like he didn't know that!

He was far too sober for this Robin, it was fine when she'd do it in a club, wander over and be all "Steve, I've been dancing with a girl!" mainly because he was drunk enough to join in with her level of wonderment (even though he'd just watched her do it). Right now though, with the weight of his life choices on his shoulders, trying to wrangle his best friend was driving him slightly mad.

"I know," he whispered back. He could hear the pings and dings of the casino in the background, but other than her gentle breathing, Robin had gone suddenly eerily quiet.

He was just about to ask if she'd nodded off upright (it wouldn't be the first time) when Robin and Chris whined loudly, "We're bored, Steve!" jesus fuck! He had to move the phone away from his ear, so his skull didn't crack open. The fact that they said it simultaneously being equal parts creepy and adorable.

It was then that Eddie's stomach rumbled noisily, he'd been quiet and still the whole time Steve was on the phone, not even looking in his direction apart from when Steve spoke directly to him. That was until Steve's stomach grumbled in agreement, Eddie glancing up at Steve through his lashes, amusement dancing in his eyes and god when he smiled like that!

When was the last time any of them ate? Robin hadn't shut up about Vegas' newest waffle place (that had basically inspired the whole trip) since she'd heard about it from Gina in accounting. Maybe some food would do them all some good.

"What about some breakfast?" Steve suggested, he still had his eyes locked with Eddie's and found he wasn't just talking to Robin. Eddie nodded coyly, getting off the bed to gather his clothes from wherever they'd been flung.

"Oooh!! That's a great idea! You're so smart, Steve! I love you!" Robin squealed in his ear and Steve yanked his eyes away from Eddie as he sauntered naked around the room, staring purposefully at the napkin on the bedside, absentmindedly playing with the ring on his finger.

"I love you, too. You going for waffles?"

Steve liked to check in, it wasn't that he thought Robin was incapable of taking care of herself. He just worried. The love he felt for his found family had a depth he'd never thought himself capable of, and Steve didn't even know who he'd be without Robin by his side.

But Robin always knew him better than he knew himself, could practically taste the pensive thoughts through the line, "We're going for waffles, Dingus! Don't forget your husband!" she yelled and hung up.

"jesus fucking christ!" he muttered to himself, putting the phone down.

A husband! Steve didn't even have a job, let alone a career, but he somehow now had a husband. And the thing was, Steve couldn't even say he hated the idea. He didn't particularly like the idea of marrying someone he couldn't remember knowing, but he knew he'd always been one to fall too hard, too fast. His fuckbuddies were different, he could separate his emotions from sex under that context but the moment an actual relationship was mentioned suddenly Steve was all-in.

Maybe Eddie was an all-in kinda guy too?

Eddie had seemed flustered at first but he relaxed into it pretty quickly. It was intriguing to meet someone so laidback and spontaneous. Steve and Robin were always pretty happy-go-lucky, jumping from job to job without giving it much thought. But out of everyone they knew, they seemed to be the outliers, it was nice to meet such a free spirit.

Not that Steve had always been this way, of course, it was all Robin's good influence. From as small as he could remember his parents had brought him up to care more about what everyone else thought, than about his own thoughts, wants and opinions and honestly, it had him wound tighter than a springboard for the first twenty years of his life.

It was Robin who'd taught him that it was okay to do what he wanted to do, when he wanted to do it, that what he wanted mattered. It took a while but she got him to get to know himself, the real him, not the guy his parents wanted him to be. Steve kinda hoped he’d be able to get to know Eddie, like really get to know him, beyond just breakfast with their respective best friends.

Speaking of, Steve looked around to find Eddie had left the bathroom door wide open, a clear invitation to join him. Steve faltered for a second because they should probably talk first but honestly, it'd been a long time since Steve had felt as good as he did when Eddie smiled at him and he was kind of sick of denying himself things that felt good.

Fuck it!

As he shuffled towards the bathroom, Steve rescued the rest of his clothes from the floor, his shirt was still tucked inside his jacket, dropped carelessly just inside the room door. A vision flashed in Steve's mind, he and Eddie in the lift, he was shirtless and rutting against Eddie as they frantically made out, watching in the mirror behind him as Eddie licked and nibbled down his neck.

Holy shit! Steve had only ever that horny for someone in public in the relative privacy of a club bathroom stall. Anyone could've joined them in that elevator, hell there might've been someone in there with them, he didn't think there was but he couldn't remember. They were lucky they hadn't been arrested! Anywhere else and they might've been, but luckily Vegas was well known as the City of Sin. Hopefully, the hotel security were just used to it.

There was steam pouring from the bathroom by the time he'd pulled himself from his musings, the mirror above the sink showing nothing but a blurry outline of himself, not that he needed it to know he looked rough. The shower door, like the bathroom one, had purposefully been left wide open, steam billowing out along with Eddie's voice.

Because Eddie was singing, loud and angelic, over the sounds of the shower. It wasn't a song Steve recognised, something about the sun, the moon and a seal, Eddie could've been making it up for all he knew. Not that Steve cared, it was sublime. Pulling him in like a siren song, Steve couldn't help himself, he just kept inching closer.

And as heavenly as Eddie’s voice was, which was truly one of the most exquisite voices Steve had ever heard. It was nothing in comparison to the vision Steve was greeted with as he finally reached the shower. Eddie had his head tipped back, rinsing Steve's expensive shampoo out of his hair, the length of his neck alone had Steve salivating. There was a little tattoo poking out from under his earlobe that was practically begging to be investigated. And a single freckle sitting just to the left of his sternum that he felt the overwhelming urge to lick.

Steve didn't get more than a cursory glance at the rest of him because it was then that Eddie straightened up as though he'd sensed Steve's presence. As he wiped the excess water from his face with his hands, Steve noticed that Eddie had removed all of his rings except the shiny gold band that joined them, almost like he hadn't wanted to take it off.

Another vision came to him, of him sliding that very ring onto Eddie's finger, of him taking Eddie's hand and kissing the still cold metal, glancing up at a grinning, misty-eyed Eddie through his lashes, an overwhelming surge of joy exploding through his chest.

It made Steve giddy and he was suddenly unable to wipe the stupid smile off his face, Eddie beamed back, warm and inviting, little droplets of water catching in his eyelashes from the pressure of the spray hitting his skin as he'd watched Steve remember.

The breath was knocked out of him when he immediately felt the overwhelming need to touch Eddie, to be in his space, to kiss him so thoroughly that neither of them knew where one of them began and the other one ended.

And Eddie must be some kind of mind reader because a truly mischievous look overtook his features as he reached out his ringed hand to Steve's to yank him under the torrent and into his arms, giggling cheekily when he pushed Steve back against the freezing cold shower wall, happily swallowing Steve's shocked gasp.

Part 2

[hellcheerficdatabase]

bound to deliver

Author: @ebongawk

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/1

Description:

“I, um. I think about that sometimes. About you doing that.”

Eddie grinned, his eyebrows hidden behind his bangs. “I mean, I love doing things to you, but you’ll have to be a tiny bit more specific.”

or

Chrissy and Eddie try something new.

Tags: Alternate universe- everyone lives and nobody dies, established relationship, smut, fluff, plot what plot, we only know smut, alternating POV, one-shot, status: completed

[inklessletter]

Pairing: None really, hint of hellcheer and hint of steddie, but it's up to what you reader want to believe

CW: major character death, angst, anxiety, mention of eating disorder, mention of abusive family, mention of abusive romantic relationship, mention of victim blaming, idealisation of being dead

Being dead was strange.

And lonely.

And ultimately, peaceful.

Chrissy woke up with a gasp, shaking and embracing herself, defending her body from a phantom menace. Last thing she remembered was extreme pain and panic and then, nothingness.

Much to her dismay, when she was fully conscious of her own demise, Chrissy felt—well, she was relieved. And that was a fucked up thing to feel, she thought. She was aware that there were people back there that loved her and she would probably be missed, but then she thought about her mom and she didn't feel so gross out of the sudden. She wondered if her mom would genuinely mourn her loss or if she would instantly use her death to play the martyr and get that kind of attention she loved so much.

She looked around only to find herself in an eternal blackness, her terrified whimpers echoing in that new place, that void. Once she noticed that there was no one there but her, that she was no longer in imminent danger, she realized that she had died. Her breathing slowed down, she stopped trembling and no more tears watered her gray pupils. The fear that she woke up in became a ghost feeling, a shattered, almost distant memory.

Then she realized that she wasn't hungry.

Chrissy begged internally to whichever god made her be there that she would not feel the hunger ever again.

Chrissy wandered around the nothingness, remembering things about her life, about her last days. She remembered the nightmare monster that called her name and ended her suffering but she was no longer afraid. She could not be hurt anymore that she had already been.

She thought about Jason her heart clenched for a second when she thought of the tender moments. Those few "first" experiences. The first time he smiled at her. The first time he spoke to her, and when he tucked a lock of hair behind her very red ear. The first kiss, the first whispered 'I love you'. The first gift, that golden necklace, right after that conversation and half a promise of marrying her after high school, the first time they had sex after that.

And then she thought about how everything went to shit after that, how he sided her mom's humiliating comments about her body, how he made her feel like shit when she confronted him about it, like it was her fault. How he got angry when she refused to fuck completely naked, and how he slapped her and called her stupid, just to apologize the next day by saying "I am sorry, you just made me so mad with that nonsense".

No, Chrissy would not miss Jason Carver in the afterlife. She could not break up with him, but he was no longer a problem.

She was walking through a forest, tall trees, familiar, when she stopped thinking about Jason. Chrissy had no idea how she got there or where it was the nothingness, the void.

She kept walking at a comfortable pace when she heard birds, and that put a smile on her face.

She was thinking about the last time she smiled when she saw the picnic table in front of her.

Chrissy didn't recognised it immediately, but when she did, she smiled again.

Eddie.

She sat on the bench, right where she did a few days ago, and thought about that moment. Thought about Eddie Munson rolling on the floor to make her laugh, and his long, frizzy hair all messy with crunchy leaves, and his passionate talking and he willing to almost give his goods for free when she knew he charged almost fifty bucks for what he was about to sell her.

Eddie was deceivingly sweet. She would have loved to be brave enough when she was alive to talk to him, to be friends with him. He was fun, and he didn't need to talk shit about other people to be funny. It had no case now wondering if they would have been friends if she ever made it out.

Chrissy thought that it was sweet to think that they would have been.

Her heart clenched again with a deep, far away sadness. This time, it wasn't because of what she left behind, but because of a chance she could not ever take.

Being dead was definitely strange, and feelings came in waves, like an echo of a voice that you only know it's yours because someone told you it is.

Being dead was lonely.

This was not at all what she learned in the church, if this was Heaven, or Hell, or something in between it was not how she envisioned it. No judgment, no Saint Peter guarding the gate, no demons, no Nana waiting for her, no nothing. Just the forest and the table and the sound of distant birds.

She thought then if she would ever talk to someone ever again. Chrissy shrugged, playing with an empty can. Most people have hurt her, so she didn't really mind not talking to anyone ever again.

She lifted her gaze to where Eddie was standing that time, and no one was there.

Being dead was peaceful.

After so much stress, self loathing and suffering, being in a familiar place surrounded by nothing than soft afternoon light and birds singing was perfection. She realized just then that she was really exhausted and she thought 'why not?' and just threw away the can in his hand and accommodated herself and just slept on that spot.

And slept, and dreamed of red and blue skies, and glowing cracks in lakes, and a house, and intense red, and that Mayfield girl, and Eddie again, and music, and—

Wait.

Chrissy opened her eyes. She was not dreaming of music. She was hearing music.

She heard an electric guitar, frenetic rhythm, and she heard that before, she thought? Or something similar. She couldn't really remember but she jumped off her seat and started running through the forest, looking for the source of that music.

Afterlife peace be damned. She ran, and ran and ran among the trees and she was still there, she could feel it, but everything was dark now and she felt lost. The music was very loud now but it was out of reach.

She stopped running. Chrissy took a hand to her chest and she could perfectly feel her heart pumping every bit of feeling that no longer felt like a far away memory of it. She was frantic. Nervous.

And then some voices.

Someone shouting Eddie's name, and it made sense, didn't it? That music and Eddie fit so well. And then other voice screaming his name and she might be dead, but she remembered what desperation sounded like, and she expected the worst.

With her heart so clenched that almost hurt, she kept walking to what it felt the end of the forest, and he saw them there.

Eddie, lying on the floor, a young boy crying his heart out so loudly that Chrissy felt his pain as her own. Another man running towards them, kneeling next to him, hugging the kid. There must have been so much she didn't know, Chrissy thought, when she realized that the man now lifting Eddie's body was Steve Harrington.

And it felt intimate, she felt uninvited there, watching that scene. She should definitely not be there, witnessing Nancy Wheeler embracing the crying kid, covering his head, turning it away from Eddie. Chrissy should not be there, watching Robin Buckley crouching next to Steve, touching him as if they were soulmates, and sharing your that heartbroken look, Steve shaking his head, and a tear running down Robin's cheek.

Chrissy closed her eyes, and took a deep breath, trying to soothe her aching heart. When she opened them again whe was in that forest, afternoon light over her. Back to when she was last happy.

She turned to see that empty picnic table and slowly sat there again, bracing herself.

Being dead was strange.

Feelings were strange, time was strange.

She did not know how much time it passed, really, when she heard steps.

Chrissy opened her eyes and she could feel him before he saw him.

Eddie Munson was standing in front of her.

Chrissy smiled at him, sad and happy at the same time because being dead was strange.

In his confusion, he smiled back at her.

Being dead was not lonely anymore, and she felt she could help him realize that being dead could be peaceful.

@mentallyundone

[longclawislightbringer]

Chapter Two: The Princess and the Jester

Rating: T

Relationships: Chrissy Cunningham/Eddie Munson

Summary: It's fifteen minutes to showtime and Eddie's a nervous wreck when he sees a familiar face in the crowd.

I’ve been absolutely blown away by the response to the first chapter of this little fic. Thank you to all my fellow Hellcheer shippers for being so welcoming. I think I originally started writing this chapter in Chrissy’s POV before deciding that it would be more fun to see it from Eddie’s perspective. After all, there’s a reason this is tagged “Idiots in Love” *wiggles eyebrows*. Thanks once again to my beta, Ry, for taking a look at this chapter. You can find her at ryleighjosephinne on AO3 and at @dustinswill on Tumblr. I hope you all enjoy part 2! I think I've read through it about five times in the last two days, so I'm ready for it to be out there.

Chapter One. Chapter Two.

Read on AO3

As Eddie waited backstage with Jeff and Grant, he fiddled with the skull ring on his pinky finger. The din of the crowd, waiting for the concert to begin, rose behind the curtain. His heart raced in time with the clock above the stage manager’s station on the black cinderblock walls.

“I can’t do this,” Eddie blanched, butterflies dancing in his stomach. “This is the biggest crowd we’ve ever played for.” He crouched on the floor while the backline and lighting crew scurried past him as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey, snap out of it,” Jeff snapped a finger in front of his face.

“But what if I mess everything up?” Eddie wondered, eyes downcast.

“You won’t,” Jeff hauled Eddie to his feet. “You electrify a crowd when you play that guitar. You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t feel fine,” Eddie scoffed, straightening his leather jacket.

“Here,” Grant walked past the sound monitors and tossed him a water bottle. “You’ll feel better.”

“I sure hope so,” Eddie muttered, twisting off the cap to take a sip. The ice-cold water glided down his throat with each gulp.

“Hey,” Gareth mused, “is that Chrissy Cunningham?”

Eddie spewed water all over the floor.

He whipped around toward Gareth, who peeked past the curtain onto the pit.

“I thought she was only coming to the Indianapolis shows?” Jeff interjected.

“She didn’t tell me she was coming!” Eddie set down his half-drunk water and marched to the curtain, peering over Gareth’s shoulder into the crowd.

Chrissy stood at the edge of the stage, looking like a fish out of water in her matching pastel blue miniskirt, sweater, and white Keds. After she checked her watch, she ran a hand through her teased strawberry-blonde hair and fidgeted with one of her many necklaces.

His stomach flipped. Chrissy wore his ring on her hand.

“That’s definitely her,” Eddie mumbled.

“You don’t think she read the interview, do you?” Gareth asked.

Eddie’s heart plummeted.

“When was that supposed to come out?” Eddie questioned through tight lips. “I was supposed to tell her not to read it until she saw me at the Indianapolis show.”

“Last Tuesday,” Jeff replied as he and Grant joined Eddie and Gareth at the curtain. “Maybe she doesn’t read Rolling Stone.”

Chrissy took a poster from the dark-skinned girl in fishnets and combat boots beside her. Eddie waited with bated breath for her to flip it over.

His heart sank once more when he read, “EDDIE MUNSON WE NEED TO TALK” in Chrissy’s perfect handwriting.

“Ouch,” Grant patted him on the back. “Sorry, dude.”

Eddie glanced at the clock above the manager’s podium—still fifteen minutes to curtain.

He could fix this.

_________

He could not fix this.

While he waited for the security guards to bring Chrissy and her friend to their small green room, every tick of the clock reverberated against the white-washed walls. His heartbeat slowed to match; butterflies danced in his chest.

Eddie paced up and down the room, shaking his hands as he dodged the cherry coffee table in front of the couch.

“Dude, sit down,” Gareth called from the couch. “You’re gonna give yourself a headache.”

Eddie bit his lip. “Alright.”

He perched on the brown couch between Jeff and Grant, tapping his fingers on his bouncing leg.

He froze as the green room door creaked open.

Without ceremony, a security guard ushered Chrissy and her friend inside and closed the door behind them.

Chrissy glowed, her strawberry-blonde hair framing her face like a cover girl on a magazine.

The silence hung thick between them, so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Eddie sprang to his feet.

“Chrissy.” Eddie choked out. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she squeaked back.

Jeff broke the tension. “Chrissy, are you going to introduce us to your friend?”

“Right,” Chrissy shook her head as if in a daze. “Guys, this is my roommate, Stacey.”

Stacey waved behind her, her enthusiasm jingling the upwards of ten bracelets she wore on each arm. “Stacey, this is Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Stacey gushed, twirling one of her braids. “I’m a huge fan.“

“Any friend of Chrissy’s is a friend of ours,” Grant said as he shook her hand.

The room settled back into silence. Eddie studied Chrissy like a starving man at a feast, drinking in every last drop of her before she inevitably told him to go to hell.

Gareth slapped his knees and rose from the couch. “Stacey, how would you like to see the stage?”

“I would be honored,” Stacey tipped her head in a mock bow.

“Fantastic!” Gareth grinned. “Jeff and Grant, let’s give Stacey the full tour.”

Grant put down his water as he got up to leave.

“Shouldn’t you guys stay here so the crew can find us?” Eddie asked, fiddling with the edge of his flannel.

“It’ll be fine,” Jeff said through gritted teeth. “We’ll just let Rodney know what we’re doing.” He mouthed, “Talk to her!” while he filed out of the room, leading Gareth, Grant, and Stacey toward the stage.

As she left, Stacey turned back, gave him two thumbs up and winked.

“Have fun!” Chrissy called out to her without looking away, the foreboding poster still dangling from her fingers. Eddie gulped.

When the door clicked closed and they were alone, Eddie rubbed the back of his head, “Chrissy, I—“

“I read the interview—“ Chrissy interrupted him softly, “—in Rolling Stone.”

“Oh,” the color drained from Eddie’s cheeks. “You saw that. You weren’t supposed to see it until I could tell you myself.”

He crossed the room and grabbed her shoulders.

“Look, pretend I never said anything,” Eddie pleaded as her bright eyes filled with tears. “We can go back to the way it was.”

Chrissy shook her head. “Eddie, I don’t think I can.” Her voice wavered.

“No, no,” Eddie stepped back. “Please don’t, Chrissy. I can’t lose—“

The door to the Green Room slammed open.

“Five minutes to your set, Mr. Munson,” the PA said, not even bothering to glance up from his clipboard.

“Coming,” Eddie called as the PA walked away. He turned back to Chrissy but avoided her tearful gaze. “I’ve got to go.” He shouldered past her, continuing, “If you want, you can watch us from the wings. I’m sure the guys already dropped Stacey off. It’s a really great view and—“

“Edward Munson, would you stop talking for once!” Chrisy seethed.

Eddie whirled around in the cinderblock hallway, already halfway toward the stage. Chrissy stood in the green room door, tightly clenching her poster. An angry flush bloomed across her cheeks and bled down her neck into her blue sweater.

Eddie put his hands in his pockets. “I don’t understand.”

“I can’t forget,” Chrissy’s voice quivered, “because . . . because . . . Oh, gosh darn it!”

Eddie reeled back as Chrissy hurled her poster aside and flung herself into his arms. On instinct, he reached his arms around her waist to steady her as she cradled his head, pulling him closer. She jammed their lips together, and in an instant, every anxiety about the upcoming concert vanished.

The world slowed to a standstill around them.

She tasted like strawberries.

Chrissy pulled back with a lazy grin, holding onto the collar of Eddie’s jacket. “I would have said yes if you asked.” Her skin was warm where his hands crept under her sweater. “So now I’m asking you: will you go out with me?”

“What?” Eddie blinked.

“Mr. Munson, you’re needed on stage,” the PA tapped his shoulder, pulling him out of the daze.

“Right,” he grabbed Chrissy by the wrist and dragged her to where Stacey and the rest of the band waited in the wings just out of sight of the crowd.

Depositing her next to her roommate, Eddie fiddled with the hem of her sweater.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Chrissy bristled. “Absolutely.”

“Just had to be sure,” Eddie smirked as he leaned in to give her a quick peck on the lips.

Stacey squealed as the rest of the band gasped. Eddied gave them the finger as he pulled back.

“Yes, Chrissy, I will go out with you,” he answered as the lights dimmed over the crowd and their intro music blared through the speaker system. The crowd roared in applause, chanting “Corroded Coffin” in time to the beat.

Chrissy melted, stars in her eyes as she watched him go.

“I’ll even be your man forever if you like,” Eddie shouted back to her as he backed away.

Giddy, Eddie jogged onto the stage behind his bandmates and assumed his position in front of his microphone downstage left as Jeff approached the mike center stage.

Grabbing his beloved red guitar off the stand, Eddie slung it over his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Chrissy in the wings, who blew him a kiss. Beside her, Stacey looked like she was about to faint.

Eddie tinkered with the frets on his guitar.

The backing music cut out. Gareth counted them in on drums as the spot came up on Grant. With precise fingers, he picked out the opening to “Unworthy”.

Eddie tapped his foot, waiting for his turn. In eight bars, he would come in with his signature riff.

He took one last look at Chrissy. She clasped her hands tight.

Eddie winked at her before ripping into his opening chord. The sound reverberated through the stadium as the spotlight above him blasted on, a blindingly hot beam of white light. Eddie closed his eyes. He glided across the strings, plucking out a melodious cacophony.

When he finished his riff, he opened his eyes and glanced at the crowd. They watched the band with rapt attention. Eddie settled into his element.

Jeff stepped up to the mike as the last spotlight blared on. The crowd was putty in his hands.

“We’re Corroded Coffin!” Jeff shouted. “Let’s get ready to rock!”

_____

“Thanks for being such a great crowd, Pittsburgh!” Jeff yelled into the mike. “We’ve got a couple more songs for you all, but I’m going to pass the mike over to Eddie to introduce this next song.”

Eddie glanced between Jeff and the audience without missing a beat.

Jeff nodded toward Chrissy, waiting for him in the wings.

She gave him two thumbs up and mouthed, “You got this!”

Eddie smiled and turned back to the booming crowd. The stage lights beat down on him—he could barely make out any faces beyond the first row.

“Hey, everyone,” he waved. “ I’m Eddie.”

The crowd roared.

“I love you, Eddie!” one guy screamed.

“Thank you,” Eddie joked, placing a hand over his heart. “I’m touched.” He leaned his bare arm on the neck of his guitar. He’d lost the jacket and the flannel somewhere halfway through their set, when he was singing lead on their cover of "11th Street Kids". “So funny story about this next song . . . And every love song that I’ve ever written. They’re all about my best friend—“ A cheer rose from the crowd as Eddie vamped the opening of the next song. “If you read our interview in Rolling Stone, I admitted I’ve been in love with her for years, and I never told her, even though she’s gotten demos of every song I’ve ever written.” He paused for dramatic effect—the crowd waited with bated breath. A rivulet of sweat darted between his shoulders. “She hasn’t heard this song before.” He winked; the crowd screamed. He plucked the strings with a gentle touch. “Whenever I’m in her presence, I am but a humble court jester devoted to a beautiful, unattainable princess, unworthy of her attention, only desiring to hear that melodious laugh for one more time.” Eddie sighed pathetically. “That’s all I thought I would ever be, her court jester.”

He waited again, the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. He smirked.

“But apparently, I was wrong. She’s here tonight, and she just asked me out!”

Cheers and whoops rose from the crowd.

“I said yes, of course.” Eddie winked. “Guess I’ll have to come up with some new material for the next album.”

The crowd laughed.

Eddie picked up the tempo, queuing Grant on bass and Gareth on drums. The rhythm coursed through him like lightning as the lights flashed and smoke rose from the floor. It was a good thing they had been practicing to start playing this song after the Indianapolis show next year.

“This song is called ‘The Princess and the Jester’.” He glanced at the wings. Half in shadow and flushed with excitement, Chrissy bounced along to the song.

They locked eyes as time seemed to slow down. Eddie kept the rhythm but couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Chrissy, this one’s for you.”