#whipped eddie munson

[hawkinsbnbg]

Eddie who pined after his co-star so hard that it became a running joke among his fans. The internet had many videos of him just staring at Steve completely lovesick and moonstruck.

Funnily enough, he always played the arch-nemesis who also had the most chemistry with Steve out of everyone.

Meanwhile, Steve just minded his own business, be pretty, and let himself get wooed and spoiled.

Since Eddie was cute, he even kissed the older man on their first date. And linked their pinkies together as Eddie walked him to his door.

---

Eddie: *screams bloody murder at Steve on the screen*

Also Eddie: *waxes poetic about Steve whenever someone so much as mentions his name*

[n33dlew0rk]

I cyclically go back to some of my old favourites bc I'm a proud ✨music slut✨ and I was thinking about Roy Khan when he joined Kamelot. Like, the kinda uncharacteristic voice timbre for the genre and the short hair made me think of Steve.

And I don't necessarily headcanon Eddie Munson as a metal elitist, but for the sake of this little worm, let's say he absolutely is one. The nasty type, even.

So wouldn't it be hella funny if mid-thirties lead guitarist of average famous trash metal band Corroded Coffin Eddie'd find himself at a festival and suddenly smitten with power metal vocalist Steve Harrington?

Ok so, stay with me:

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys play some big festival in the early 2000s, not as headliners (I honestly can't see CC as that big, sorry), but still like on one of the late afternoon / early night slots. A plan they're pretty big fans of, it means they have a substantial crowd of fans and casual festival-goers listening to them, but they can get pretty buzzed and relaxed to enjoy the bigger names playing later afterwards. And they're all still in their mid-thirties so yk their lower backs hurt, sure, but they can still be menaces in the pit if they're motivated enough.

They do just that for a while, then around dinner time, someone's girlfriend (I'd like to think Jeff's bc I can totally see him not caring about genres at all) begs to go see this band she likes at one of the smaller stages. She's telling them that they just changed vocalist and this guy had to prove himself to the band by skydiving with them and that's so cool and she really wants to see them live please please please.

Eddie is not convinced, the name of the band doesn't sound familiar, but it's clearly fantasy inspired, and that leaves him with this nagging feeling that they'll end up to some obnoxiously cheesy act. He tries to divert the attention from himself and actually go eat something.

Manager and bff extraordinaire Chrissy Cunningham won't have it though, always careful with partners, family and significant others because she knows how the industry can turns artists into assholes. So she shoves all the boys towards the smaller stage, smiling wide and supportive of the girl who wanted to go there.

And wouldn't you look at that: the act IS, in fact, obnoxious and cheesy. The band has back up vocals that look more like a fucking choir. They have a keyboard that could probably replicate an entire orchestra, which means these guys are symphonic. Eddie shudders at the thought alone.

By no means the band has a big production, but they still have drape-like thingies stage-sides and candles and shit. A quick glance to the crowd has Eddie taking in so many men in leather pants and flowy-fucking-harmony-book-illustration-cover-vaguely-medieval shirts that will hunt him for a lifetime of nightmares.

Eddie groans as the band enters the stage and start playing right away. And yeah, there's no denying it anymore, it's clearly a power metal act- yep there it comes, the chirpy melodic riff and oh, oh yeah, melancholic keys and heartbreaking choir intro just joined the party. Eddie is actively glaring at Chrissy, but she just smiles and pats his back, shrugging apologetic.

And then.

AND THEN.

And then Eddie's future husband appears up there, in a puff of poorly distributed fake smoke, a too tight short sleeved black shirt, fairly normal black jeans with just a few straps on his juicy thighs, short and messy light brown hair and the sweetest boy-next-door smile.

This dorky motherfucker even dares to do a little bow to the audience.

This piece of cake with no tattoos whatsoever in sight and the attire of a very mild occasional I sometimes go to raves while vacationing in Ibiza because I have a very stable and probably boring white collar job and I need to decompress.

This absolute luscious chest forest bearer of a man struts to the barricade and starts singing with a tone so warm that it soothes half of Eddie's lifelong trauma and a lung capacity that could send at least two big tobacco companies bankrupt.

And for a minute there (or five, or ten, or whatever) Eddie kinda forgets why it was ever cringe to sing of doomed love, eternal devotion and, fucking, roses and flowers and passionate nights full of stars and promises and-

"Backstage pass" he starts shaking Chrissy's arm not taking his eyes off the charming vocalist.

Chrissy doesn't hear him right away, so she just cocks an eyebrow in a silent question, but Eddie keeps on staring at the stage like a man possessed and shouts louder "Get. Me. A. Backstage. Pass" and point a finger at Steve singing his heart out.

Chrissy snickers, not particularly surprised, and stands on her tip-toes to take Eddie's face in her hands, turning him to face her.

"Babes, you are an artist that performed at this festival", she lowers a hand to grab and wave in front of his eyes the artist pass attached at Eddie's neck.

It takes a few beats for him to gather enough brain power to understand, but as soon a as he does, he's dodging people left and right with a streak of mumbled "sorry man"s alternated with some more urgent "kindly fuck off"s to reach the front and find the nearest staff entry to flaunt his newly rediscovered access guarantee.

-

After the encore, an absolutely delicious sweat drenched Steve exists stage left and bumps directly in a very much stunned Eddie Munson with hearts in his eyes.

Steve mumbles a distracted "sorry" and starts walking around him to follow his bandmates to the green room when Eddie reaches for his wrist and nearly shouts "WAIT".

Steve turns around again, looks at his own wrist wrapped in pretty ringed long fingers, then focuses on the owner of said fingers. "Uh, yeah?"

Eddie's watching him like he's the Eighth World's Wonder and promptly answers with "Hi, my name is marry me, will you Eddie Munson?".

In the time it takes Steve to blink a few times and lightly blush before bursting out a genuine laugh, he realises two thing: one, the man in front of him (and still holding his wrist) is Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin and he his quite frankly hot; two, Eddie Munson from Corroded Coffin spent a good five minutes of his own band's set earlier that night to climb on a tall amp and proceed with a ridiculous tirade against "all the melodic sappy panty twisting crap that's tainting true metal".

So Steve slowly cocks his head, still smiling big, gently pats his free hand on Eddie's cheek and smugly tells him "nah, wouldn't want to taint your", he tries to lower his voice to make it sound tougher, while vaguely gesturing towards him "true metal, hot stuff". He also winks at him, for good measure.

Eddie once again takes a moment to recover and totally bypasses Steve's dig blurting out a "you watched our set???", ears reddening at the tips, face shocked and mouth open.

Steve finally manages to free his hostage wrist and gives Eddie an incredulous, hopeless once over, starts laughing again and walks backstage, shaking his head.

When he notices Eddie's not following him (still stunned, not offended, to be clear) e looks over his shoulders "are you coming or not?".

Eddie unfreezes then and sprints to join him.

-

Eddie will proceed to follow Steve around for the remainder of the festival, walking on his knees and begging pretty please for a chance to explain the he actually meant other melodic sappy panty twisting crap, not Steve's.

-

The next Corroded Coffin album is kind of experimental, features Steve's vocals on one track, pisses off metal elitists worldwide and gains CC a headliner spot in the next festival line-up.

[strangersatellites]

i think my favorite steddie dynamic is when upon their first meeting, eddie thinks he’s going to chew steve up and spit him out and the devil on his shoulder is giggling but then steve is just So that eddie just ends up being walked like a dog and he’s never been happier

[cholvoq]

SORT OF BELATED BUT HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!! I LOVE YOU GUYS SM 🫶🫶

As a gift, some fluffy Steddies :))

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve and Eddie dating was really the best thing for the members of Hellfire because they discovered that they could get Eddie to do anything by convincing Steve to make this face (Wayne eventually catches on too) :

[eddieintheupsidedown]

Dustin: Eddie’s eyes are brown right?

Steve: They're hazel, with hints of dark brown when the light hits them just right

Dustin: And when was the last time he smiled?

Steve: Last night at 1.20am when he was laughing about something that Robin said

Dustin: Right. and when is my birthday?

Steve:

Dustin: When is my birthday Steve?

[resident-gay-bitch]

you can now find eddies pov here :))

this wasn’t going to be easy, and that was a fact.

dustin was already distraught, a blabbering fucking mess for the entire walk from the town centre to the creel house in this slimy godforsaken underworld.

they were already at their wits end, with barely a string of hope left when eddie stepped in. eddie, who was now a bad guy apparently. steve had to tackle dustin to the ground when eddie first swooped in and tried to slice nancys throat open with his claw because dustin just wanted to hug him.

that was hard enough. everything was hard enough. but now steve had to face - and probably be the one to kill because he was the brawn if nancy couldn’t - the very man who had been haunting his dreams for months and led him to ask robin the question of how she knew.

he was… rabid. clothes ripped and clinging to his body in unnatural ways, his hair a fucking wild mess, his eyes glowing red, his skin paler than usual, the tips of his fingers now black and sharp like talons, extra teeth that were far sharper than teeth should ever be, a snake like tongue, wings!, and not to mention he was soaked in blood. he had it dripping from his chin for fucks sake.

whatever that thing was, it wasn’t eddie.

but it was.

so they’d spent the past hour trying to hide and calm dustin and devise a new plan, whilst trying to survive in this hell.

yeah this was going to be the hardest thing steve’s ever done.

he was probably going to die today.

well, if he died at the hands- claws of eddie, then at least he’d be dying with something beautiful. monster or not.

they stepped back out into the road, steve leading the pack and nancy covering the back.

something swooped overhead, casting a wide shadow, and by the break in dustin’s voice, steve knew it was the eddie thing.

he looked up to see the beast pearched atop a stobie poll, crouched with his hands between his feet like an animal, his wings hanging down behind him.

he looked right at steve, and steve felt his heart stop.

covered in blood and fucking terrifying, steve still loved him.

more than ever, actually.

eddie cocked his head to the side, just looking at steve.

steve adjusted the grip of his nail bat over his shoulder, ready in position to swing. he heard nancy cock her gun, he heard mike and dustin grab onto eachother, and noticed el stepping up beside him at the ready.

eddie just sat there. he moved his head slowly forward, like he was trying to get a better look. he was assessing them, probably, figuring out the quickest way to kill them all without getting hurt.

it made steve sweat.

if eddie wasn’t so high right now, steve would just charge and take a swing. get this over with. give the kids the best advantage.

eddie quickly straightened his head out and made a sound. it was a weird sound. sort of like a creepy roll of his tongue and then a click. it sounded far too much like a demo dog for steve’s comfort.

everyone froze at eddie’s sudden moment and then started looking around after he’d made the sound.

had he called for help?

steve clenched his jaw and gripped the bat tighter, eyes fixed on eddie.

eddie raised his wings up high, spread out wide and they were big. like fucking massive. steve was sure one wing alone was longer than he was.

everyone braced for impact.

eddie made the sound again and stood, standing tall atop the electricity pole, and then he made another sound that was more like a birds chirp (if the bird was dying).

and then he moved, and everyone made sudden noise and yielded his weapons but then stopped not a second later.

eddie was falling.

he was just freefalling backwards off the stobie poll with his hands clutched at his heart.

right before he hit the ground, his wings kicked up into action and carried him back up into the air. and once he was high enough, really fucking high, he dropped again.

steve was confused.

eddie dropped and then… oh shit, he wrapped his wings around himself and was fucking spiraling through the air like an arrow, heading straight for steve.

he heard will shout to run, and everyone jumped back but-

steve was on the ground, groaning and trying to fight eddie off who was on top of him, pinning him down. steve didn’t know where his bat went.

eddie was looking at him with wide eyes.

steve’s jumped out of his skin, screaming when he heard nancys gunshot.

silence.

eddie made a small sound, a shrill one, like he was hurt.

oh he was hurt.

eddie turned his head and spread out his wing and steve could see a perfect circle cut through it. eddie looked at it, then moved his wing out of the way to scowl at nancy.

this couldn’t be good.

eddie snarled at her, his snake like tongue darting out to his before he was grabbing steve and lifting them up into the air.

steve screamed, he’d never been this high before.

nancy had aimed her gun to shoot again but dustin stopped her, there was a very good chance she’d hit steve if she did.

steve didn’t know where his bat was.

eddie started flying, steve clutched tight in his arms and he had no clue where they were going because he had his eyes squeezed shut.

he was so gonna die like this.

and then they stopped, and steve was being layed down on something… soft?

he opened his eyes to find eddie crouched over him again, his hands between his feet like before, his wings draped down behind him, his head cocked as red eyes blinked at steve curiously.

steve rubbed his head and looked around to find that he was… in the highschool theatre dressing room? he only recognised it because it was a classic in school make out spot.

he was laying on a pile of pillows and ratty old blankets that were piled on top of a few mattresses. pillows, big and small, were piled up even higher around the mattresses and it looked… it looked like a nest.

eddie made the clicky sound again and then chirped happily and crawled away.

steve was beyond confused.

he sat up and looked around.

beside him was an old mangled bear, there was just a pile of flannel shirts in one corner of the nest, eddie’s guitar was leaning up against the edge of the nest wall, there were those weirdly shaped dice dustin always carried scattered around, and… oh.

steve moved a pillow to the side a little to find his old varsity jacket stuffed there. it was dirty and a little wear for tear, but everything was in the upside down.

he wondered why eddie had it.

he moved the pillow some more to find one of his shirts there too. and then he lifted a blanket to find a whole collection of his clothes! a few shirts, a red jumper, three odd socks and one matching pair, a pair of purple boxers, his old basketball shorts, a singular sneaker that matched the one on his foot now, and a yellow sweater that steve recognised as the one he threw at eddie on the boat.

steve pet his own chest to feel the familiar bumps of the pins and patches of eddie’s battle vest laid there.

oh.

oh they- they were the same.

they missed eachother.

they barely knew eachother, but they missed not being able to learn.

steve spun around when he felt eddie’s presence again, and eddie was sitting in his same weird stance, but this time right beside steve, his face abnormally close.

steve kinda freaked out.

eddie cocked his head again, blinked those wide eyes that steve couldn’t find scary, even under the red.

steve held up the varsity jacket in one hand and gave it a waggle. eddie looked at it and then looked back at steve, then back at the jacket, then back at steve, and then he purred.

steve didn’t know why it gave him butterflies.

eddie nodded his head forward until his head bumped steve’s shoulder, and then he looked back up with those wide eyes again.

“it’s yours.” steve said simply, tugging at the sleeve of eddie’s vest on himself, “i know, i’m sorry. i hope you don’t mind. it helped ground me on the bad days.”

eddie cocked his head.

“can you understand me?” steve asked.

eddie nodded.

steve was very glad to hear that, “can you talk like me?”

eddie just looked at him.

steve sighed, “i’ll take that as a no.” he hummed, “you have a lot of my things.”

eddie dropped something else on his lap.

their old year book from eighty two. steve opened it up to the page that was indented, obviously eddie looked at it a lot.

on the page was a picture of the swim team, steve posing in one picture with one other guy - the co captains - however, the other guys face had been covered by a cutout of eddie’s face. above it in red sharpie wrote “by the time you graduate, this will be real, and he will be nice and want you back”.

steve couldn’t help his laugh.

eddie crushed on him in highschool?

steve stopped his laughing when eddie made a sharp sound of protest, and steve looked up to see his already wide eyes even wider and… a pout?

oh god, he was making a puppy dog face at steve right now.

god, steve had heard so much about his puppy dog face from wayne, he’d dreamed about being on the receiving end of one himself. and here he was, only it was different now. he had pale skin and dark eyes and blood on his chin.

steve closed his mouth and looked at the pleading expression on eddie's still pretty face, and kinda melted.

"you technically still haven't graduated, you know?" steve found himself saying, and he didn't know why. eddie was technically a demon or something. steve should be running for the hills, but...

eddie made a chipy clicky sound again and then suddenly something wet was touching his cheek and- okay, eddie was licking him.

eddie was liking him a lot, like a dog.

steve laughed and pulled away and smiled at eddie, "licking? really?"

eddie smiled and nodded, shuffled steve back into the steve pile under the blankets and made him rest there. steve did lay, and rest, leant up against the pile of pillows and old clothes. he'd forgoten all about the high stakes of everything, because all he could think about was eddie. eddie here, alive- not really there, but here no less.

eddie shoved steve into the shape he wanted and then grabbed the old mangled teddy with his teeth and crawled over to steve. he dropped himself down heavily into steves lap - causing him to jolt forward and gasp from the sudden weight and pain - and curled up. his wings wrapped around steve, caving him in. eddie nussled his head against steves chest, under the opening of the vest, the mangled teddy clutched tight in his arms, and then he purred again, a big long one.

it was so warm like this.

steve didn't care if eddie wasn't really eddie anymore, because deep down inside, he was still every bit eddie that he could be. it was this world that had turned him into something else.

plus, who was he to judge? steve was a much uglier monster at one point in his life too, bulying and kicking people to the ground during highschool, but he was still good at heart these days. eddie could be too.

he was.

there was no doubt about it.

steve ran his hand over - not through because he physically couldn't - eddie's hair and held him close, and they rested there together for a while, in eddie's home.

saving the world could wait a little while.

[flowercrowngods]

figured i might as well go for the @steddiemicrofic in an unusual way 🤍

harrington’s our number one

• rated: T | cw: past major character death, implied grief, bad poetry | wc: 111 • written for prompt: one (july)

i wonder what they’ll remember now that all is said and all is done. will they remember your eyes, hazel green and brown? or will they remember how they shone— how you shone? everything about you somehow golden;

somehow gone.

it seems like the bare minimum, remembering the way you loved, the things you’ve done. that you won.

they all loved you, but you must have known. because it’s written on your tomb stone with chalk you stole that summer you were done:

harrington’s our number one.

—and i loved you, but you can’t have known. i’ll love you still. you are the one. for all my life.

the only one.

[harringroveera]

Cue Eddie playing all ten songs about Henry for Henry to listen

[sarcasticassian]

Steve is in his senior year and he’s in the same history class as Nancy Wheeler, he managed to get an invite to hers for a study session once and now he’s lucked out because they’ve been put together as partners on a project and he has a little crush on her and wants to ask her to prom so he’s hoping this is how he can get to know her enough so that she’ll say yes

he obviously tells Robin his plans and she scoffs at him and says Nancy Wheeler isn’t the right girl for him, she’s too prissy or whatever and Steve argues that Robin can’t say shit because she wants to kiss Chrissy Cunningham so Robin just rolls her eyes and grudgingly wishes him luck but don’t come crying to her when Nancy says no but Steve isn’t worried because Nancy isn’t going to say no

they get to the Wheeler house and her little brother Mike is an asshole but he immediately leaves them in the kitchen to run into the garage and Nancy gets her and Steve set up at the kitchen table to work on their project, things are going well and she’s laughed at his jokes once or twice but then Mike comes back into the kitchen and Steve bluescreens because behind Mike? the most beautiful guy Steve has ever seen is coming in

he’s wearing coveralls but they’re short sleeved and show off some tattoos, he has curly hair that’s tied up with a bandana and the same big brown eyes that Nancy has and Steve is pretty sure he’s gawking but this man is sublime, he’s kinda sweaty and he greets Steve with a smile, which shows off the cutest dimples, before he pounces on Nancy, who shrieks because ‘ew Eddie you’re all gross and covered in grease’, Steve would happily switch places with her

‘sorry Steve, this is my older brother, Eddie’

and Steve forgets all about asking Nancy to prom but he needs to get back into her house tomorrow and Robin is gonna give him such shit for this but he needs to spend more time with Eddie because he wants to kiss him so bad

[hawkinsbnbg]

hit me baby one more time

prompt: one | word count: 1111 | rated: E | tags: daddy kink, spanking, breeding kink, barebacking, creampie, pet names, one-night stand to fwb to lovers, mutual pining | @steddiemicrofic | ao3

This was getting out of hand.

Because Eddie Munson never did repeat.

And somehow, he kept coming back to Steve Harrington’s doorstep, promising himself ‘This will be the last time’, then repeating the same dance and song until he just—

Stayed.

What had started as a one-night stand—simple and uncomplicated—had become something more, an undetermined relationship where Eddie was allowed to stay overnight instead of stumbling back to his place alone, where he woke up to stale breathed kisses and lazy morning sex, where he took turns making breakfast and eventually dinner with his fling (“man of your dream, muse of your soul, light of your life—” “Shut up, Gareth!”).

If anyone was to be blamed, Eddie would point at himself, albeit begrudgingly.

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, he was the one approaching the other man that night when he realized the former King Steve was sitting there in a BDSM club, wearing a crop top and snug jeans, lipgloss and eyeliners, so pretty that the bartender would be swept off by that infamous Harrington Charm soon if no one intervened.

So Eddie did. Walked up to his target of the night and cast his spell, wanting to take the guy down a peg or two, an overdue payback for his horrendous high school experience.

What he didn't expect was to be completely enchanted by Steve who turned out to be a sweetheart, who had gone under so beautifully, looked at him with so much trust and vulnerability, made him want to care, to cherish for the first time in his chaotic life.

Then one morning, when he blinked his eyes open and gazed at the pretty thing still snoring softly in his arms, it suddenly occurred to him that he couldn't walk away anymore.

And thus, the rest was history.

Steve seemed nonchalant most of the time, acting like they were just real close buddies whenever Eddie turned up, as if he hadn't been fucked stupid on every surface of his own apartment.

It thrilled Eddie how easily that indifferent façade would break under his command without resistance.

Eddie brought his hand down in another loud smack, eliciting a muffled sob.

“T– Thank you,” Steve mumbled, sounding soft and sweet in a way that made Eddie's heart clench. “Thank you, Daddy.”

For a moment, he took in the vision draped across his lap. Burgundy sweater bunched around the slim waist, white cotton yanked down to mid thighs, an anklet that matched one of Eddie's bracelets, pale skin and red hand shapes, Venus dimples and lean muscles, moles and freckles that dotted the smooth canvas like constellations.

A masterpiece.

He stroked those cheeks like kneading dough, enjoying the goods before giving it three reverberating smacks.

“How many do you need, baby?” He cooed as Steve started trembling minutely.

“Gimme ten,” Steve whined.

Eddie huffed fondly. What a spoiled brat. It was always ‘I want’ or ‘gimme’ and never ‘can I…?’ or ‘please’ , so needy and demanding all the time. But Eddie was at fault for being a pushover.

At least, Steve never forgot to say sorry and thank you. Would do everything to get praised. Always a good boy even when he tried to be a brat.

“Alright, we can do ten,” he tapped Steve's cheeks lightly. “Count for me, sweetheart.”

Then gave them ten swats in succession that were followed by Steve's strangled counting.

Steve was crying in earnest, face blotchy and lips bit red, when Eddie carefully flipped him over. But his eyes, god, his doe eyes were brimmed with tears, big and wet and drooped pitifully.

“Still good, little prince?” Eddie combed his fingers through the silky lock gently.

“Mhm,” Steve sniffled. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Eddie’s erection twitched and dribbled in the confines of his jeans. Cursing himself for being weak, he leaned down to capture those lush lips, swallowing every breathless noise that tried to escape between the tiny cracks of their mouths.

As wanton legs parted to welcome him and shaky arms wrapped around his neck, Eddie grew greedy, hungry, insatiable. He wanted to devour Steve, to ruin him for anyone else, to keep this beguiling creature away from the prying world.

Because Steve Harrington was a sunshine incarnation, apple pies and vanilla ice cream, honey buns and warm milk, maraschino cherries and chocolate cakes, divine and perfect everything.

Was it so surprising that Eddie wanted to hoard such a treasure even when he would be burnt to a crisp?

“Do you trust Daddy, baby?” He whispered, pecking the pretty face that blossomed in flush pink beneath him.

“Always,” Steve smiled, sweet and precious.

Utterly gone, he dropped soft kisses on Steve's eyelids, making those long lashes flutter like the butterflies in his stomach.

Then, he took care of Steve the way they were both familiar with. Drawing out those pretty moans and taking everything that Steve was willing to give him.

“Daddy,” Steve mewled, neck stretching to give hot lips and sharp teeth more access, quivering and drooling as his prostate was nailed precisely.

“My gorgeous baby,” Eddie groaned, tongue heavy and heart stuttering in his chest. “So good for Daddy, aren't you?”

“Yours,” Steve whimpered, hanging on him like a ragdoll as the pace turned brutal. “Make me yours, Daddy.”

And so Eddie tried his best. Worshiped his beautiful angel until he could taste those nectarine droplets, running down the apple of rosy cheeks and soaking pouty petals.

Eddie pumped him full over and over again, possessive and obsessed, unable to resist the temptation of knocking him up however impossible it was.

Once they were done for the night, he carried Steve into the bathroom for their joint shower, put Steve in a threadbare sweater and cute panties then threw on himself an old tee and boxers after they were dried up.

When they returned to the bed, he gathered Steve in his arms and ran his hand on Steve's back soothingly, whispering sweet nothings until Steve let out a quiet yawn.

“Sleep, baby,” he kissed Steve's forehead. “You have a morning shift tomorrow.”

“G’night, Eds,” Steve said drowsily.

“Sweet dream, my darlin’,” he kissed Steve's forehead again just because he could, just because he wanted to see that sweet smile.

Eddie watched the other man fall asleep against his chest, always unguarded and so trusting around him. It made him feel things he never entertained before. Made him want to listen to ABBA. Made him want to do chores and prepare meals with Steve for the rest of his life.

He let out a helpless sigh.

This was getting out of hand.

Because Eddie Munson had fallen in love.

[strangersatellites]

need 2 see steve weaponize his babygirl power against eddie. like- yes stevie! use ur cute for evil!!!!!!!!!! manipulate your boyfriend for fun!!!!!!

[eddieintheupsidedown]

Eddie: How to flirt?

Eddie: I thought i had massive game but i just come off as odd and peculiar

Steve: Worked for me babe

[nezxshi]

hellooo steddie fandom, the flight of icarus book is hurting my heart bc of all the shit that eddie went through.

does anyone have any good hurt comfort steddie fic recs? preferably one that's eddie-centric plz i just. i just want to read about steve making him feel safe and loved PLEASEEE THANKS

[klausinamarink]

One Kid Gone, Another Up and Vanished (part 14)

getting back to the grove of writing and updating this on a reg. And look at that - an update in 2024! (jesus where did time go)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 next: Part 15 | ao3

After startling himself awake for the third time in a row, Jeff groans in defeat as he kicks the blankets off him and makes his quiet way downstairs. He pauses once at the front of his parents’ bedroom door, wondering if he could sneak in under their covers like he used to do when he was little. Instead, he listens to his dad’s soft snores for a bit before continuing on.

The kitchen is quiet. Usually, the liminal solace eases him. This time however, it makes Jeff hyper aware of every sound in the house. Any tap on the window and back door spikes his heartbeat up to eleven. The darkest corners where he can’t see manifest the faintest shapes of teeth. His mind is starting to convince him that the monster is hiding right behind the kitchen island.

He quickly flicks the light switch on and the shadows retreat to their abyssal homes. Jeff does a swift lap around the island, sighing in relief when he finds nothing.

Jeff goes over to sink and fills up a glass of water. He drinks, drinks, and drinks.

After his throat feels no longer dry, Jeff places the glass down, a finger tapping on the rim. He’s too worked up to go back to bed and sleep. Thank god it’s the weekend. He can’t imagine trying to trudge his way to class and lunch while every empty seat that should have Eddie in it continues to haunt him.

“Fuck.” Jeff huffs, rubbing the side of his temple. Because right. While he had just found out alternate dimensions with man-eating monsters exist, Eddie’s still incognito.

He just wanted to find his best friend. How did Jeff’s life come to this?

Another realization strikes him. If Eddie doesn’t come back, then what will happen to the Hellfire Club? Neither Jeff or the other members are as great at DM’ing as Eddie. There’s also no chance of someone else in the high school with the same skills to bother joining. Even if they did, it wouldn’t be the same with Eddie’s love for dramatics and methods of setting the scene to further engage them. A club without their leader wouldn’t last long even with the members still onboard.

Hellfire would be gutted out of Hawkins High. Every brick made of Eddie’s blood, sweat, and tears would be smashed into dust and swept into the dumpster. It would be like Eddie had never existed at all.

Jeff buries his face into his hands, leaning over the counter. He breathes in and out as slow as possible. He is not having this breakdown at whatever-o’clock at night-

The floorboards creak behind him. Jeff spins around, his hand about to throw the glass at the noise. He manages to stop himself at the last second when he sees it’s just his grandmother.

“Jeffery?” She squints at him, her accent more clear with her apparent sleepiness. “Why, why are you up? You should na koimásai, óchi?”

Jeff chuckles, wiping his eyes in case a few tears welled up. He walks over to her, gently holding her arms. “Kala, Gigi. I was just thirsty.”

His grandma studies his face briefly before she tutted, “Trouble sleeping. Óchi kala.” She waves him off as she starts heading over to the cabinets, the kettle already set to boil. “Tea would make you better.”

Jeff’s not sure if his grandma’s famous dandelion-honey tea will be enough to erase the shadowy monsters and existential dread from his mind. But hey, what not?

—

El wakes up to the sun. It’s nice and warm on her face. She sits up from the ground, keeping her head up to have the sun still shining on her. But a cold breeze hits her and the nice warmth is gone. She shivers, sinking her head further into her jacket.

The pretty blonde hair gets into her nose and mouth. She spits it out but now it sticks to her cheek.

El stands up and walks over to the large water, close to where she had slept. She looks down and sees the same Pretty Girl. Except that her eyes are puffy-red and her face is dirty.

El takes off the hair and Pretty Girl does the same. Now she looks just like Eleven. A monster. Papa’s failure.

El’s face twists, remembering how scared she was the night before when Mike and Lucas started yelling at each other before Mike hurt him. While they had all ran into Mike’s house after she Felt Will and Eddie, she had ran away from them.

She doesn’t want to hurt them anymore. Staying with them will bring Papa to them. Or turn Mike into someone like that boy Troy.

She still has the walkie radio in her hands. She hasn’t turned it on in case Mike starts calling her. But she hasn’t checked in with Will and Eddie either yet. She’s scared of hearing the monster again.

Something dark and hazy flashes in her mind. For a moment, she’s at the Room and someone - not Papa - leers down at her. Eleven, what have you done?

Somehow, it terrifies El to her entire body that she screams. The water parts away in a rush as if it’s scared of her too.

—

The first thing Nancy does after waking up is flicking her eyes to the bedside lamp. She expects it to turn on and off by itself like some sort of morning alarm. But nothing happens. Nancy shuffles over and twists the tiny knob to the side, but still nothing. Seems that the power is still out.

Nancy looks down at Jonathan. He’s still sleeping where he lies on the floor next to the bed, a thick duvet over him with his jacket as a pillow.

After the combination of the Poltergeist-esque communication with his brother (the reality of that situation is now hitting her wow) and the hectic post-blackout assistance (which involved many candles and hurried transport of food in the fridge), Jonathan had been drained enough that he had just dropped to the floor like a stone. Her mom had only allowed him to sleep in Nancy’s room because he literally couldn’t budge. 

Nancy watches him for a moment while his shoulders rises gently up and down. It gives her deja vu, bringing her back to that morning in Steve’s bedroom. 

Oh god, Steve. Nancy didn’t mean to say any of that to him. It was just supposed to be a way to convince him to leave so Steve wouldn’t see Jonathan and get the wrong idea. But she got too stressed by his questions that her emotions got the best of her. 

Now, after seeing Steve’s crestfallen expression, Nancy will know better than to hurt him again. 

She rolls over to her back and stares up at the ceiling. Her mind buzzes with the renewal of every emotion from the past twelve hours. Fear. Curiosity. Irritation. Regret. All of them fill up the new hole in her chest.

But none of it is enough to drown her worries for Barb.

Tears sting her eyes again. Nancy quickly rubs them away, not wanting to dissolve into a sobbing mess again. It hurts when she demands herself not to think about Barb for a minute. She needs to distract herself. Preferably something safe. Like, like-

Checking on Mike.

Nancy slips out of bed, tiptoeing past Jonathan and into the sunrise-lit hallway. Mike’s door is closed but she hears a faint rustling sound on the other side. When Nancy lightly knocks, it stops.

“Mike?” She calls, quiet enough to not wake up Holly or her parents.  

She hears her brother groaning. Nancy rolls her eyes and lets herself in, expecting Mike to yell at her as usual. Instead, she’s taken aback by his silence as he stuffs his backpack with something that looks like an extra set of clothes.

“Mike?” When he doesn’t look up at her, Nancy steps closer. Mike’s hunched over and the corner of his eyes look red. Either from last night’s craziness or his emotional outburst. Maybe both. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Totally not because I can’t find Will.” Mike snaps with a swift zip of his backpack. His tone sounds too tired for a twelve year old. And something his answer confuses Nancy. Can’t find Will?

She thinks about to last night when the flashing lights in her room expanded to the rest of the house. Nancy had been terrified and too focused on Jonathan holding her that she’d barely missed Mike’s frantic calls. At first, she thought he was calling for their parents, but then she had heard him shout out Will’s name. After all the lights blew out, Nancy had nearly forgotten it.

Now that she thinks about it, she wonders if Mike had also found a way to talk to Will too. That might explain the behaviour of him and his friends from the past few days.

“Hey, if there’s any-” But just as Nancy sits on the bed next to him, Mike hops off. That’s when she notices that he’s already changed out of his pyjamas. 

“Wait a second. Mike, where are you going?” 

Her brother stops at the door’s threshold. He turns around and says seriously, “I’ve become the fugitive of the state. Tell Mom I love her.” 

“Wh- Mike!” Nancy jumps up to her feet but Mike’s already dashing down to the stairs. Frankly, she’s too taken aback about the sudden scene of normalcy to chase after him. 

She groans in exasperation as she returns back to her bedroom. This time, Jonathan is awake, rubbing his eyes and asking, “Whatz th’ time?”

“Morning, that’s what we know.” Nancy drops back on her bed. Her hand coincidentally lands on her notebook, left alone on the corner. She picks it up and flips back to the pages where she had transcribed Jonathan’s conversation with Will and Munson.

J: Munson? How are you here? EM: TAKEN TOO. DEMOGORGON. SCARY MOTHERFUCKER.

(At that, Nancy couldn’t help but laugh. That’s one way to describe the monster she and Jeff had fled from.)

J: Okay, did the demogorgon took you too, Will? WB: YES. J: When? WB: BIKING BACK HOME EM: IT HIT MY VAN

“What should we do now?”

Nancy glances up. Jonathan’s still sitting, picking at the skin around his thumb, not looking at her. “I mean, we know Will’s somewhere that’s not really here and Eddie Munson’s with him. But something happened-” he gestures to the nonfunctional lights, “-and now we can’t talk to them and find out.”

Nancy bites her lip. She doesn’t like this either, but it would be laughable to go to the police. Because what would they really do, even if they somehow believe the story? Shoot the monster and bring those two boys back? Yeah, very unlikely.

Thumbing through the pages with last night’s conversation, Nancy tears them out of the notebook. She hands them over to Jonathan, who finally looks up and slowly takes them. “Your mom is probably the only person who knows what’s going on. Give those to her. She’ll believe us.”

“And then what?” Jonathan mutters, staring down at the pages. “Knowing my brother’s alive is not enough.” He pauses, “Does Munson’s parents know about him?”

Nancy blanks. She doesn’t know Eddie Munson that much, save for his habit of walking on lunch tables and shouting at the popular students. Nancy used to find it funny, but eventually it turned into background noise.

Shaking her head, she asks, “Don’t you know Munson better?”

Jonathan sighs, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. “Just because we’re both freaks at school doesn’t mean I’m friends with him. I know nothing about Munson other than he lives in Forest Hills trailer park. I don’t think he even has parents.”

He pauses, turning his gaze back at Nancy, “Wait, what about the demo-monster? We know nothing about it.”

“We do.” Nancy gets up, walking over to her bookshelf. “I’ve only seen the monster for a minute, but even if it’s not from our world, it’s still an animal. A predator. If we can at least guess its strengths and weaknesses,” she pulls out her animal encyclopedia. She hasn’t touched it since eighth grade, but it should still do, “then we hunt it and kill it.”

Jonathan stares at her. “How?”

“We can get hunting equipment. That should work.”

“But will that guarantee getting Will and Munson out?”

Nancy doesn’t know how to answer that.

—

Jim wakes with a startled gasp and a hand clamping over his neck. The side of it still pangs with the needle suddenly stabbing through the skin. Catching his breath, he takes in his new surroundings. He’s back in his trailer, now sitting upright on the couch as the morning beams through the curtains. Which means that, in between now and his baffling discovery at the Hawkins Laboratory, Jim had somehow made it home and blacked out.

Motherfuckers.

Jim rushes out of the couch and starts tearing through every inch of his place. Cuts through the pillows. Breaks more plates than necessary in the cabinets. Digs through the trash. Ruffles his bedsheets. The whole shebang.

It’s while he starts unscrewing the bulbs of his lamps that a knocking bangs on the front door. Jim freezes for a second, a sheet of sweat and fear dousing him. His gun is lost somewhere in the mess. If that’s the Lab folks again with that Brenner man again-

“Chief! You coming out?”

Jim shakes out a relieved sigh. It’s Cahallan.

He eyes at the lamp, wondering if he could still check it. He decides to leave it for now. Let the Lab listen to him like they want.

Jim finds his gun and checks through the peephole. Then he pokes his head out, glaring at Cahallan.

“Whoa, Chief,” Cahallan starts but Jim cuts him off with a (hopefully) very relaxed, “What’s up?”

As Cahallan stares at him, Jim notices two other men behind him. He relaxes when he recognizes Powell - who’s looking down like the dead leaves around his shoes are the Niagara Falls - and Conrad Smith, another officer at the station.

Cahallan snaps out of his stupor, shaking his head. “Remember Barbara Holland? A couple of those rangers went out and got a eyewitness who said she hitchhiked with a trucker somewhere west. Guess she did ran away after all.”

Jim nods, but his mind is already split between completing his search of the house and the goddamn state getting their hands all over Hawkins.

“There’s something else too, Chief.”

Jim barely resists an impatient sigh, “What?”

The men look at each nervously before Cahallan takes a breath and quickly says, “Will Byers’ grave was desecrated last night.”

Jim almost falls over at that, but he catches himself at the last second. He doesn’t hide his shock and disbelief though. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“We got the call just around ten last night.” Smith takes the reins to explain, “The grave was dug down to his coffin and the robbers broke it open.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

How Jim hasn’t collapsed to the ground yet, he chalks it up to his sheer force of will and the way his hand still grips on the edge of his door. He sucks in a deep breath, “Please tell me the kid’s body isn’t violated.”

Cahallan winces again, “Yeah, uh, we don’t exactly know.” At Jim’s bewildered glare, he quickly backtracks, “When we came over, the graveyard was swarmed by the state guys! They told us this was their ‘point of interest’, whatever the hell that means other than we should stay out of their business.”

A cold sweat drips down Jim’s neck. This definitely sounds like a government coverup in the making. Not to mention that if Joyce catches a wind of what’s going on… Jim’s not sure if he should pray for the state rangers from their inevitable fates.

Then another cold thought strikes him. What if the Lab already bugged her house? And Wayne Munson’s?

“Okay.” Jim feigns casual interest and clicks his tongue. “Well, if the case is going to be resolved by the state, then so be it. Now scram.”

Before he shuts the door, he hears Powell calling out to him. He glares out again, “What?”

Powell shuffles from foot to foot before finally piping up, “Am I still fired after the Munson kid is found?”

Jim slams the door.

He stays long enough to hear their mutterings and crunching footsteps as they walk away. Then he stomps back over to the lamp, digging his hand inside the cover. Something plastic touches his fingers. Jim immediately curls around it and pulls it out, barely catching a small snap as he does.

He examines the device closely. It’s a small black object that looks like some Lego pieces glued together with a couple exposed wires on the side. Jim doesn’t think twice about opening the window and throwing the thing out as far as he could without pulling a muscle.

—

It’s the crick in his neck that wakes up Wayne first. He slowly sits up from his uncomfortable position and rubs a hard thumb on the knot. As he does, Wayne presses a palm over his eyes, taking in the room with bleary eyes.

The living room’s the same as last time. The lights Joyce had reattached to the wall were sprawled across the table to the wall above the couch. Part of the old bedsheet, the alphabet hastily painted in black, had somehow fallen on his lap. Joyce herself is also sleeping, now lying on the couch instead of her stiff seating position from the last time Wayne had checked.

It’s surprising that either of them had slept after their grave discovery (no pun intended), especially after a frantic but thorough washing of their dirt-covered hands and disposal of the shovels.

He reaches over, nudging Joyce by her arm. It takes a couple tries but she jolts awake.

“Oh god…” She yawns with a crack of her jaw. Then she peers over at Wayne. “Had they said anything yet?”

Wayne shakes his head, picking up a string and letting it go so it clacks against the cloth. “I’ve actually fell asleep too, so I might’ve missed it.”

Joyce stretches her arms over her head as she sits up. She clears her throat and calls out, “Good morning, Will! Morning to you, Eddie.”

Wayne watches every lightbulb but none of them flickers. Joyce gives out a huff of frustration before she glances back at Wayne. “Coffee?”

“Best way to start the morning.” Wayne smiles. Joyces returns it, though smaller and strained. But just as she stands up, there’s a sudden knock at the door.

They freeze. Wayne whirls his head back to Joyce. Her face is pale with fear. When she catches his eye, she mouths questioningly, “Police?”

Wayne really hopes it’s not.

We got out of the grave fast. We ran back to my truck fast and quiet. I drove us out without a hurry just several minutes later so the ‘keeper won’t question it.

..Actually, looking back at it, Wayne might’ve been an idiot.

The knocking comes again. Persistent, louder.

Wayne stands up slowly. Joyce grabs onto his arm. “What do I do?” She whispers. He can already see her hand twitching towards a nearby hammer.

“Answer it.” Wayne continues when Joyce gives him a baffled look, “Whoever it is, they probably won’t leave until you open the door. Might be the police. Might be Lonnie or somebody else.” His hands goes on her shoulders, squeezing them assuringly. “But the second they start bringing harm on you, I’ll break their teeth.”

Joyce nods, sucking in shaky breaths. She pats his hands, letting Wayne to drop them as she strides over to the knocking door. Joyce pauses to shoot another look at him. Wayne nods back. Go ahead.

She jerks her chin up with a defiant glare. Joyce calls out as she opens the door. “Alright, I’m here! No need t-”

Chief Hopper immediately steps inside, silencing her with a finger to his lips and a notepad aimed at her.

Wayne blinks. Well, he fears the police would come, but not in this kind of manner he’s seen before. “Chief?”

Hopper turns to him, holding his shushing gesture while shaking his notepad at Wayne. They’re written in black pen, large letters saying DON’T SAY ANYTHING!

“Hop-?” Joyce starts to speak, but Hopper shushes her again.

Wayne and Joyce soon stand at each other’s sides, watching in complete bewilderment and dismay as Hopper methodically turns the house inside out. After what feels like hours later, Hopper finishes his bizarre inspection as he nods at them.

“You’re good, Joyce.” Hopper sighs, dropping to the couch.

“Hopper, what the hell?!” Joyce throws her arms up, stomping over to him. “You come in here, tell me and Wayne to stay quiet, and you tear the rooms apart? At this point, I might as well move out!”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Hopper rubs his eyes wearily, “I just needed to make sure they didn’t bug you.”

At Joyce’s sound of confusion, Wayne steps in and asks, “‘They’?”

If he’s puzzled by Wayne’s presence, Hopper doesn’t show it. Instead, he answers simply, “The lab.”

“You’re losing us, Hop,” Joyce crosses her arms, “What lab?”

Hopper tells them. For the second time, Wayne thinks that he’s just hearing a ghost story. Only this time involving a reckless breaking and entry of the Hawkins Lab and discovering something in their lower floors that sounds more like a newfound gate to hell.

“It was glowing red?” Joyce interrupts. The horrified disbelief on her face probably matches with Wayne’s.

Hopper nods, “Yeah, from the inside.”

“Like my wall.” Joyce murmurs. Catching Wayne’s confused glance, she explains, “That night when I spoke to Will and he told me Eddie’s name? Something came out of my wall in the room and, well, I couldn’t see it probably but it glowed red and scared me out of my house.”

“Eddie’s name?” Now it’s Hopper looking confused.

Wayne blows out a soft breath, “We- well, Joyce here had spoken to her son. Turns out wherever he is, Eddie’s with him too.”

While Hopper processes that info, Joyce frowns at him, “Do you think that, because of whatever the Lab has in their basement, it’s why Will and Eddie are not here?”

“Not to mention the state taking over Eddie’s case.” Wayne remarks pointedly.

Hopper runs a hand down his face, muttering curses under his breath. “Yep.” He makes a short but bitter laugh, “Actually, I figured that they had to be covering for something when I tried to get to the morgue, but too many rangers were posted there.”

“Because Will’s body is fake.” Joyce says.

“Exact-” Hopper starts to nod before shooting his head towards Joyce. A sharp pang of panic shoots through Wayne as he whirls at her. Joyce immediately clamps a hand over her mouth but the damage is already done.

The silence loads into the living room like bullets in a gun chamber.

“Joyce.” Hopper says slowly with a careful tone. His hands are carefully outstretched and open. “Joyce, what did you just say?”

Joyce looks at Wayne with barely-hidden panic and apologies in her eyes. He just squeezes her hand comfortingly. It’s okay, I’m not mad, He hopes she understands his silent message.

She squeeze his hand back.

“Joyce, I promise you’re not saying anything incriminating. I just want to you repeat what you just said. Just as a friend.”

Screw it, let’s rip the Band-Aid off. If the Chief of Hawkins Police can handle sneaking into a government lab by himself, then what’s worse than grave robbing with good intentions?

Wayne clears his throat, getting Hopper’s attention on him, “We already know about Will’s grave because Joyce and I dug it up last night.”

He keeps his own head up as Hopper’s snap towards him with saucers for eyes.

Joyce drops her hand from her mouth and almost-yells, “But that’s to check on who they actually buried! And you know what we found, Hop? It was fake. They literally made up Will’s body out of plastic!”

“I accidentally kicked the head off.” Wayne adds with a casual shrug. Not the best attempt to have the atmosphere light again, but sue him, he’s trying. “Bless the almighty above that there was only cotton stuffings instead of blood coming out.”

Usually, he doesn’t like watching the light be drained out of people’s eyes in real time. But this time will an exception because it’s actually kind of funny seeing Hopper go into some sort of existential crisis on the spot.

“Please don’t report this, Hop.” Joyce claps her hands together in a prayer gesture. “At least don’t tell anyone Wayne and I did it.”

“Oh, don’t worry…” Hopper barely mutters, his gaze now blankly staring at the table as if the object had just sucked his soul out.

“Hop?” Joyce leans in as if to poke him, but Wayne gently stops her. Shaking his head lightly, he says, “How about we fix ourselves some breakfast? I don’t remember the last time I ate, to be honest.”

They both stand back up, leaving Hopper on the couch. Wayne notes Joyce’s carefully-steeled face and nudges her. “You’re allowed to laugh, you know.”

Joyce quickly shakes her head, but he can see a smile already cracking through her face while she rubs over her arms. In fact, she looks almost a tad too gleeful, “I’m glad that I got to actually say that out loud.”

Then her face falls again to the chronic worrying expression, “I just hope our boys are doing okay right now.”

—

When Will stirs awake, the first thing he feels is Eddie’s heart beating against his ear from where his head had at some point moved on top of Eddie’s chest. Relieved, Will keeps his eyes closed, ready to continue sleeping.

And then he hears the raspy breathing.

Will sits up so quickly that, for a second, his vision turns black around the edges. Even in the dark, he sees Eddie rapidly blinking up with glossy eyes.

“Eddie?” Will places his hand on Eddie’s forehead, only to immediately pull it back. His skin is so hot that it burns through all of Will’s fingers. Oh no.

Will moves so he’s kneeling right beside Eddie’s head, already carefully brushing his hair away from his sweating face just like how Mom does it whenever he gets sick. The older boy trembles violently, either from the touch or the fever, Will doesn’t know. He tries to remember what Mom had always said on those sick days, finally settling on the most important question - “Are you feeling okay?”

Eddie answers with a small gurgle before throwing up over his jeans.

-

Taglist: @unclewaynemunson @hellion-child @steves-strapcollection @sidekick-hero @penny00dreadful @hbyrde36 @mmmmwaffles94 @princessstevemunson @sirsnacksalot @tartarusknight @lyriclight @kodaik97 @plsdontdrinkmylavalamp @bookbinderbitch @gutterflower77 @soaringornithopter @angeldreamsoffanfic @panicatthediaz @renaissan-vvitch @manda-panda-monium @newtstabber @little-trash-ghost @niniel-karenine @tinyplanet95

[hellcheerficdatabase]

Cloud Nine

Author: @nature-and-music

Rating/Warning: Explicit

Chapter Count: 1/1

Description: Chrissy is in the middle of a lovely dream where she's resting on a soft cloud. What she doesn't know is that said cloud is about to give her the most interesting wake up call.

Tags: Alternate Universe- canon divergence, alternate universe- everyone lives/nobody dies, established relationship, soft Eddie, whipped Eddie, they're both touch starved okay, smut, HOT DAMN, Chrissy POV, one-shot, status: completed