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hbyrde36 · 3 months ago

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Speak Now

For @firefly-party HAPPY BIRTHDAY BESTIE! 🥳

Steddie | M | WC: 6150 | AO3

TW: Use of homophobic slur, emotionally abusive relationship (not Steddie)

Eddie couldn’t believe he’d let it get this far.

In just under 24 hours Chrissy would be saying I do to the biggest asshole on the planet, and he was almost out of time to intervene.

All throughout the wedding planning phase, from venue tours and cake tastings to florist visits—appointments to which Eddie himself had accompanied the bride-to-be in place of her scumbag fiancé—he’d wracked his brain for some way to convince her to see the truth.

Jason was the worst. His boyish good looks and wholesome charm belied a rotten interior. Like many evildoers he hid in plain sight, committing his heinous acts in private and doing everything in his power to keep it covered up, camouflaging his emotional abuse with passive aggressive comments and intermittent love-bombing.

And to top it all off?

The bastard was cheating on her.

Unfortunately, Eddie had no tangible proof of this villainous treachery. Not for lack of trying, but that bleach-blonde sleazeball was as slippery as a snake. So, instead of trying to convince Chrissy of what he’d overheard last month when he’d showed up at her and Jason’s apartment unannounced and caught the little on fucker on FaceTime, having a very much not innocent chat with another woman, tonight Eddie set out to open her eyes to all the ways her fiancé was entirely wrong for her, and pray she called this insanity off.

“Come on, slowpoke!” Chrissy teased from up ahead, sticking her tongue out at him before dashing across the road to the next block.

Eddie huffed and puffed, his former smoker’s lungs not helping in his struggle to keep up with his gym-rat best friend who did things like yoga and pilates for fun. Seriously, who in their right mind considers exercise an enjoyable hobby?

“Keep your panties on, wench,” he grumbled, lumbering along behind her. “I told you we should have called an Uber!”

She spun in place, giving him the full effect of her eye roll as she continued to outpace him walking backwards.

Show off.

“You act like you’re the one wearing four inch heels.” She said, continuing to goad him.

“Well maybe I would be, Christine, if you hadn’t made us take the bus and then walk six blocks!”

He’d offered to pay for their ride. Hell, he’d planned on covering everything tonight. This was technically her bachelorette party after all, and now that his record shop was finally pulling a profit he could afford it and then some, but not only had she insisted on going dutch, she apparently felt that reliving the nostalgia of their broke-ass early 20’s, when they relied on public transportation and their own feet to get around, would be a fun way to celebrate.

It was just the two of them tonight. Eddie knew it wasn’t quite what Chrissy had envisioned, not that she’d ever admit it aloud, but in the four years and some change she and Jason had been together, the guy had managed to estrange her from just about every one of her friends except for him.

“Don’t be a baby, we’re almost there.”

Sure enough, by the time he’d caught up enough to walk side by side with her, they were coming up to the drab exterior of some new bar with a kitschy clever one word name that Eddie had already forgotten.

The front was all gray brick and dark tinted glass, the sign above it unlit and still under construction, but Chrissy assured him the place was open, and if this was where she wanted to be tonight, then who was Eddie to judge.

As unassuming and frankly boring as the outside was, the inside of the place was the complete opposite. Eddie pushed in the door and was immediately assaulted by sight and sound. Unseen speakers played Good Luck, Babe at a volume that was just barely on the right side of too loud, jarring at first but not so blaring that you couldn’t hear yourself speak. Colorblocked walls in all the shades of the rainbow laid the backdrop for a long, bright pink lacquered bar that sat against the back wall, leaving a wide open space in the middle that was clearly meant to be a dance floor, and a small stage down the opposite end.

Just inside the entrance he was greeted by the disinterested smile of a woman with a messy bob, her face clean of makeup, posted up on a stool as if she were a bouncer. Eddie supposed she must be stronger than she looked. The woman didn’t stay disinterested for long, as soon as Chrissy stepped up next to him, the bouncer’s eyes went wide, giving her an obvious once-over.

Eddie didn’t think much of it, until the woman waved them in and he got a better look at the bar’s clientele. It was slow for a bar in the city on a Friday night, which made it all the easier to notice amongst the sparse crowd the pair of masc lesbians shooting the shit down one end of the bar, a gaggle of twinks on the other, and sitting in the corner happily sipping on her drink alone was a middle aged drag queen all done up in a tall Dolly Parton style blonde wig and sequined sheriff’s uniform, complete with high heeled boots that she had propped up on the stool across from her.

Eddie stopped in his tracks, his hand shooting out to grab Chrissy’s arm when she moved to go around him, pulling her close so he wouldn’t have to yell. “Chris… is this a gay bar?”

“Yeah!” She said, grinning wide and bright, her high, tight ponytail bobbing as she nodded her head.

A deep frown pulled at his lips before he could stop it. It wasn’t that he minded, obviously, but it was more than a little unexpected for sure.

Her smile fell as she watched his face. “What’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.”

“I'm not not happy, but this isn’t about me. It’s your last night as a free woman. Wouldn’t you rather go somewhere fancy? Consider your options? Let your eyes wander a little—”

She cut him a hard look, jaw tightening dangerously.

He raised his hands in surrender, and tried to laugh it off as if he hadn’t been one thousand percent serious. “Just for fun! Y’know, get hit on one last time before the cuffs get snapped on for good?”

Not that she couldn't be hit on in a place like this, as evidenced by the bounder checking her out so blatantly, but to his knowledge his bestie had always been so very unfortunately straight.

He really didn’t understand straight people, it just wasn’t natural.

“Eddie!” She admonished, whapping him with her handbag.

“What?!”

“Nothing,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Look, Jason doesn’t like me going out to bars without him, I figured this way he’s less likely to be mad.”

Eddie grit his teeth, fighting to bite his tongue at first, but considering the theme of the night was: Mission Runaway Bride, he figured he might as well take advantage of the opening and start right now.

He threw an arm over her shoulder in hopes of softening the blow, and resumed their trek to the cotton candy colored bar and a vacant pair of its matching stools. “Cause that’s a totally normal and healthy thing to have to do to make sure your future husband doesn’t fly into a jealous rage.”

“He’s just sensitive,” she said, defensive as always. “Besides, gay bars have much better eye-candy.”

As if it had been scripted and choreographed, the very second the words left her lips, the swinging doors behind the bar burst open, revealing the single most perfect specimen of a man Eddie had ever laid eyes on. Muscular arms flexed and bulged under the weight of the box he was carrying, straining the fabric of his black t-shirt, stretched tight across an ample chest. His face would have been right at home on any Greek statue, lightly tanned and adorned with beauty marks, crowned with artfully tousled hair that fell over a pair of stunning hazel eyes framed with long thick lashes.

The man turned his back, set the heavy box down, and started unpacking bottles of booze. Eddie's throat ran dry as he watched the guy repeatedly bend down, his plump ass on perfect display in his well-fitting jeans for a moment before he straightened up again, the hem of his cut off t-shirt lifting to reveal a tempting strip of bare skin as he placed each bottle up on the shelf.

Eddie licked his lips involuntarily at the indecent sight. “Can’t argue that,” he conceded, his eyes never leaving the one-man show as he let Chrissy go so they could take their seats. The guy was probably just a bar back who would disappear through the door he came in any second now never to be seen again, Eddie thought sadly.

But it was just as well, Eddie didn’t exactly have the attention span to be able to complete his mission while being distracted all night by a pretty-boy with a nice ass.

Except, he didn’t walk away. Pretty-boy kicked the empty box aside when he was done, running a hand through his hair as he turned and headed straight for them. His shirt, which Eddie could now see had the name Steve embroidered on it over his left pec in hot pink thread, raised again, this time offering a perfect view of the most titillating happy trail.

“Sorry about that, we’re still getting some things stocked up,” Steve—the bartender, apparently—said, his eyes flicking up and down what he could see of Eddie over the bar. “What can I make for ya?”

Oh fuck.

Was it Eddie’s imagination or did Steve just… check him out?

“Margarita, please, with salt,” Chrissy answered straightaway.

Eddie felt his lips pull into a wide grin as he held Steve’s gaze, a smile that he knew would show off his dimples to full effect. “Whatever you have on tap works for me, sweetheart.”

As he knew they would, or hoped anyway, Steve's eyes lingered on Eddie’s mouth for an extra long beat. He was pleased with himself for all of 3 seconds before Chrissy made a loud sound of disgust to his left.

“Ugh, beer, Eddie?” She looked down her nose at him, frowning. “That’s so boring.”

This bitch.

“Fine, fine.” Eddie flipped her off before turning his eyes back up at Steve, keeping them wide and coy as he asked, “what is the least boring drink you can make for me, Stevie?”

He was probably laying it on a little thick by cooing the guy’s name like that and batting his eyelashes, but he couldn’t seem to help himself. Once they got their drinks though, that was it, he’d hunker down and get to work on saving Chrissy’s future.

Steve bit his lip, shooting Eddie an honest to god wink as he answered. “Easy choice, that would be a hurricane shot.”

“Sounds great.” Eddie wasn’t usually one for shots, but he’d take whatever Steve was offering as long as he kept looking at him like that.

“Don’t you want to know what it is first?” Steve narrowed his eyes, leaning hard against the bar, a little quirk to his perfectly arched brow.

“No need,” Eddie said quickly. “I love surprises.”

With an awkward yet strangely adorable two-finger salute, Steve stepped away, presumably to make their drinks, and when Eddie finally managed to pull his gaze away from the man’s exquisite backside, he found himself face-to-face with a small neon pink dick and balls hovering an inch away from his nose.

“Jesus Christ.” He reared back, snatching what turned out to be a novelty straw out of Chrissy’s hand. Fucking thing had veins and everything.

Looking far too pleased with herself, Chrissy reached back into her bag and pulled her own electric blue penis straw out, twirling it between her fingers.

“Seriously, Chris?”

“Why do you hate fun?” She asked, sticking out her bottom lip as far as it would go.

“You know that doesn’t work on meee,” he sang, waving the pink straw around like a magic wand, and booping her on the nose with it.

“What’s the problem, Munson, too big for you to handle?”

Partially for the bit, and partially because his ego refused to let him be underestimated, even if it was obviously a joke, Eddie locked eyes with her and with the most serious of expressions, began to lave his tongue back and forth over the itty bitty cockhead.

Chrissy kept an irritatingly straight face as she watched, unblinking, and it rapidly became a test of wills to see who would break first.

Eddie upped his game, swirling his tongue over the little hole in the top, before pushing the entire thing past the seam of his lips, bobbing up and down the very short length of the vascular plastic appendage.

A loud snort, immediately followed by hysterical laughter rang out next to Eddie’s head, causing him to have the startling realization that they were, in fact, still in public. He froze with the dick-straw nestled between his lips, flicking his eyes cautiously to the side and confirmed that—yep!—that was hot bartender Steve alright, standing there, cackling as he set Chrissy’s drink down in front of her, after seeing god-only-knew how much of that entire display.

Eddie spit the incriminating piece of evidence out, letting the straw fall to the bar, where it bounced—twice.

At least Steve looked mildly impressed, on top of amused.

“I’m getting married tomorrow,” Chrissy explained, leaning in towards Steve to whisper-shout conspiratorially. “And Eddie here is my maid of honor.”

“Eddie,” Steve repeated with a mischievous grin, his warm honey gaze swinging Eddie’s way again. “Is she making you wear some godawful dress with puffy sleeves?”

“I wish,” Eddie grumbled, remembering the way his dark features and tattoos had popped against the baby pink chiffon gown. He’d only tried it on to make Chrissy laugh during a disastrous trip to David’s Bridal with her horrible mother, but he would have worn it in a heartbeat. That gown and pair of shit kickers? He’d have had every closeted Carver man on their knees at the reception.

“Just a regular boring black suit for me I'm afraid, wouldn’t want to offend the groom’s delicate sensibilities.”

“You did look really pretty,” Chrissy said, taking a careful sip from her martini.

Preening, Eddie reached for his own drink, glancing at Steve to see the man giving him another lingering look, as though he were trying to imagine him in a fancy dress and liked what he saw, only to realize there was no glass in front of him.

“Forgetting something?” Eddie asked, arching his brow.

Steve gave a little shake of his head. “Just wanted to make sure you were ready.”

“I was born ready, big boy,” Eddie said, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs a little.

“Eugh, gag me,” Chrissy groaned. “That was awful.”

“It wasn’t meant for you,” Eddie hissed.

“It was pretty bad,” Steve agreed, but looked charmed regardless.

It figured on the one night he had a mission that didn’t involve picking someone up to take home, Eddie would find not only the hottest man on earth, but a man who seemed to appreciate his admittedly unique appeal.

Steve did set a tall shot glass down on the bar then, but placed it to the side and much too far out of reach to be meant for Eddie, or so he thought. The next thing he knew Steve was leaping up on top of the bar, making the move look effortless, before crouching down so low he was practically level with Eddie’s face.

Eddie swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara. He had no idea what was the fuck was happening right now, but Steve’s jeans were so tight they left almost nothing to the imagination, the outline of his dick was like—right there. Honestly, Eddie wasn’t even sure how the man was holding a squat without splitting the fabric.

Still balanced on the balls of his feet, Steve raised both eyebrows, asking silent permission for whatever it was he was about to do.

Eddie could only nod, the ability to form words nothing more than a distant memory.

What came next happened so fast, and yet felt like slow motion at the same time. From one blink to the next Steve’s huge hand was tucked under Eddie's chin, grabbing him firmly by the jaw, squeezing gently until he got the hint to open his mouth.

“Good boy,” Steve murmured low, holding Eddie tight as he picked up the shot with his free hand, poured the drink between his own lips, and leaned in even closer, spitting it right into Eddie’s waiting mouth.

The fiery liquid quickly filled him. Thankfully Eddie’s instincts kicked in and he swallowed reflexively, the liquor warming his throat all the way down to pool in his stomach, adding to the blaze that had been ignited in his groin the second Steve had grabbed his face.

And that wasn’t all.

Before he could even begin to recover, Eddie was suddenly doused in the face with a cup full of cold water, and was mid-gasp when he felt the sharp sting of a palm slapping his cheek.

A small crowd had formed around them without Eddie’s notice, and as the sound of the slap reverberated in his head, they erupted into cheers and wolf whistles.

Startled, and very aware of the sudden raging boner he was sporting, Eddie blinked the water out of his eyes, taking in the sight of Chrissy with her hand over her mouth, absolutely losing her shit, and Steve, still hovering over him with a guilty smile and pink cheeks.

“Bathroom,” he managed to mumble out as he slipped from his stool and took off towards a doorway he prayed housed the bar’s facilities.

It did. Eddie stumbled into the blessedly empty bathroom and rushed to the sink, leaning on it heavily as he groaned, palming himself through his jeans.

He only got a second of peace before the door swung open behind him.

“I’m sorry, I—”

Eddie whirled at the voice, water droplets flying off his dripping hair to hit the wall.

It was Steve, both a relief and a fact that made Eddie's heart race, walking towards him, wearing a nervous smile and holding a white hand towel. Eddie held himself still as Steve approached, feeling frozen in place while the man gently, almost tenderly, dried him off.

“I tried to tell you,” Steve whispered. “Maybe I should have tried harder.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie said, breathlessly, finally finding his voice again “I think that was the best drink I’ve ever—”

He was cut off mid sentence by Steve’s mouth crashing into his. It had to be the single hottest way he’d ever been interrupted, and you know what?

Words were overrated anyway.

Eddie moaned into the kiss, his hands finding their way to Steve’s waist and that slutty cropped hem, sneaking under the fabric to caress the bare skin beneath. He tilted his head, opening up for the tongue he could feel teasing the edge of his lips, and couldn’t stop another desperate sound from clawing its way up his throat.

Thank god Chrissy hadn’t followed him in there too, she’d never let him hear the end of this.

Oh, goddamnit.

Thinking of her instantly sent Eddie hurtling back to reality, forcing him to fight against his very nature as a man to pull himself away from Steve’s luscious mouth.

“Wait-wait, I-I can’t,” he panted.

“Shit,” Steve cursed, hands raised and mouth set in disappointed frown. “Sorry, I should have known. A catch like you, of course you have a boyfriend.”

Eddie’s mouth fell open of its own accord.

He did alright as far as hook-ups went but—

A catch?

Him?

He shook his head, disbelief briefly robbing him of his ability to speak yet again, something Steve seemed to have a talent for.

“Oh,” Steve chirped, rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “Um… girlfriend?”

“I’m not opposed,” Eddie managed, the proud bisexual in him feeling the need to clarify. “But no, no girlfriend either.”

“So, what is it then?” Steve asked, a small grin returning to his lips, looking equal parts hopeful and confused. “Am I not your type?”

Eddie heaved a sigh, pushing off the wall to pace the short length of the tile floor. “It’s Chrissy, my friend out there? This guy she’s supposed to marry tomorrow, he’s… well, he’s a fucking monster, is what he is. Tonight is my last chance to save her from a fate worse than death! And as much as I'd like to get to know you better in this remarkably spotless bathroom for a bar—”

Steve snorted from the sidelines where he’d been watching Eddie’s rant, head tilted like an amused puppy. “Thanks, cleaned it myself.”

“So you see?” Eddie went on, throwing his hands up in defeat. “I just can’t afford that kind of distraction right now.”

“Right, okay,” Steve bobbed his head in a nod as if he understood, but his mouth twisted into a smirk. “Are you always this dramatic?”

“Who’s side are you on?!” Eddie squawked.

With another soft laugh, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle, Steve joined him in the middle of the floor, cupping his face and gazing at him with a look that was far too fond for a pair of strangers who’s just met.

Even if they had already swapped spit in various and lovely ways.

Somehow though, when Steve touched him, they didn’t feel much like strangers at all.

“Definitely yours, gorgeous,” Steve said, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. “What can I do to help?”

The plan was simple.

Under the guise of chatting about their own failed romantic pasts, Steve and Eddie would casually mention as many deal breakers as possible that might apply to Chrissy and Jason. Eddie had more than enough inside information to help lead them in the right direction and Steve seemed strangely familiar with toxic relationships.

After a quick huddle Eddie returned to his bar stool at Chrissy’s side, arriving just in time to see her typing furiously and frowning at her phone, an all too familiar sight, and he knew without having to peek at her screen exactly who was texting her.

Chrissy placed the phone face down on the bar when she noticed he was back, her smile returning in full force like everything was still sunsets and rainbows. She was getting far too good at that these days. If he hadn’t seen the quick switch, he'd have no idea that anything was wrong.

“There you are,” she said, taking her almost empty drink in hand. “Did you fall in?”

“Har har,” Eddie shot her a dull look. At the same moment, Steve reappeared through the service door behind the bar and headed their way.

Chrissy’s eyes narrowed, taking one look between the two of them before leaning in to whisper in Eddie’s ear. “Or should I say, did you fall to your knees in there?”

Oh god did he wish.

“I wasn’t gone that long. Even someone with my skills needs time to work his magic!” He hissed, straightening as Steve drew closer. “He was helping me dry my hair, that’s all.”

She hummed suspiciously, but let it go.

“Another round for you two?” Steve asked.

“Sure!” Chrissy said.

Eddie held up his hand before either of them could even ask. “Just the beer this time, please. I don’t care how boring it is.”

In reality he would love to consume all of his alcohol by way of Steve’s mouth for the foreseeable future, but alas, there was work to be done. A full pint glass was slid in front of him seconds later, without commentary, though he did get another wink from Steve that warmed him down to his toes. He reached for it, and shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was when Chrissy aimed and fired, landing that damn pink penis straw right in his glass.

“Come on,” Eddie whined. “No one drinks beer through a straw.” He took a sip from the side of the glass to illustrate his point, and got a dick to the nose for his trouble.

Steve let out an obviously fake cough to hide his laugh.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff anyway, it’s disgusting,” she said, grimacing.

“You know,” Steve began, doing that thing bartenders do where they polish up glasses that are already clean. “Speaking of disgusting drinks, I once broke up with a guy because he kept buying orange juice with pulp in it.”

Oookay.

Well, it wasn’t the smoothest transition ever, but with a little tequila running through her system Chrissy didn’t seem to notice, only letting out a little giggle as she shouted, “What?!”

“Maybe it’s silly, but in my defense, he knew I hated it. Then he’d get mad because he’d bought it just for me, and I—wasn’t being grateful enough.” The last Steve said with honest to god air quotes, and Eddie fell a little in love on the spot.

“Aww,” Chrissy leaned over the bar to pat Steve’s arm. “That’s not silly at all! You deserve whatever type of juice you prefer, and a partner who listens to you.”

Eddie wanted to scream. If only she’d hold the same standard for herself that she wished for a relative stranger, this whole thing could have been avoided!

Instead he took a long swig of his beer, holding the pink penis safely away from his face this time, and casually slid into the conversation. “Kinda reminds me of that time Jason got you a strawberry shortcake for your birthday.”

Chrissy scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. “You’re never gonna let that go are you?”

Eddie shrugged, trying to stay calm as his heart beat out of his chest. He hadn’t meant to hit a nerve so early on.

“Well, that’s not the same thing at all,” she muttered, turning to Steve like she felt the need to defend Jason’s honor. “He felt so bad about it. Eddie didn’t see how upset he was after everyone left.”

“I bet,” Eddie shot under his breath. Fucking guy could have killed her. He had no doubt that Jason had freaked out after they all left, probably faked crying even and made it all about himself and how bad he felt.

“Don’t like strawberries?” Steve asked, innocently hitting the nail right on its head.

“No, um,” Chrissy faltered, chewing on her bottom lip. “I’m allergic.”

“There it is,” Eddie said, unable to help himself.

“At least Jason remembered my birthday,” she shot back with venom. “What was that one’s name again, Eddie?”

Eddie buried his head in his hands. He hadn’t really stopped to consider the painful consequences of a stroll down his own memory lane, cluttered with the ghosts of his terrible exes past, being part of the agenda.

“Billy,” he grumbled out between his fingers. “He was a piece of work.”

“Please tell me you broke up with him for that,” Steve said.

“Nope!” Chrissy announced gleefully. “Stayed with him for another six months.”

Eddie wanted to kick her.

He raised embarrassed eyes, feeling pathetic as he met Steve’s sad gaze. Steve’s hands twitched like he wanted to reach out, but someone started to flag him down from the other end of the bar and he was forced to step away.

“That was a low blow, Chris,” Eddie said after a beat, draining the last of the beer from his glass as he watched Steve work.

“You started it,” she said, elbowing him in the ribs for good measure, which was fair.. “Besides, what’s the problem? Now Steve totally feels bad for you!”

“Are you trying to land me a pity fuck?”

She shrugged, swirling the tip of her finger around the rim of her glass. “I dunno, I think if we played our cards right we could land you a pity wedding date for tomorrow.”

Eddie took a long blink, half lost in a fantasy world where he got to see Steve all dolled up and wearing a suit just for him, half disappointed to realize he hadn’t made so much as a dent in her delulu armor yet.

The clock was ticking, and he was starting to wonder if this whole plan was stupid. Maybe it was time to just lay it all out in plain english, black and white, and hope for the best.

“It’s funny that you brought up Billy. He’s the only guy I ever dated that Jason got along with. I wonder why that is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Chrissy asked, her tone sharp.

“Birds of a feather and all that.” Eddie knew there were probably a hundred better ways to go about this, but at the end of the day there was no path through this that wasn’t going to hurt.

Chrissy let her head fall back, letting out a long suffering sigh. “Look, I know you think he’s an asshole, but—”

“I don’t think, I know,” Eddie plowed ahead, cutting her off. “He treats you like shit, honey. The strawberry thing was bad enough but it’s like he can never be wrong about anything! I’ve never heard him apologize to you, not once! He’s manipulative, controlling, has something to say about everything you wear, what you eat, how much time you spend with me—”

Not halfway through his speech she was out of her seat, trying to walk away.

But Eddie wasn’t having it. He slid out of his stool to follow her, still talking the whole time. “Whether you want to admit it or not, he has isolated you from all of your friends, and I think if your mother wasn’t exactly like him, he’d have cut you off from your parents too! He won’t let you get a dog, he forgot your last two anniversaries—”

“Eddie, stop!” She shouted suddenly, whirling on her heel to face him. “You two have been at each other’s throats for years and I'm sick of it! I’m tired of being caught in the middle. It’s like you’re trying to make me choose between you and it’s not fair!”

“—And he cheated on you!”

“What did you say?” She reared back as if he’d struck her, and it broke Eddie’s heart.

He felt more than saw when Steve came up behind him, a warmth at his back and soft words asking him if he was alright, telling him to stay calm, but how could he?

“I saw it, Chris, with my own two eyes,” Eddie said, pleading with her to just believe him.

“I-I don’t…” she stuttered out. “Why are you pushing this? Don’t you want me to be happy?”

“Of course I do!” Eddie took her face in his hands, his heart aching terribly. “Babe, of course I want you to be happy, but I know you’re not happy with him. I don’t understand why you’d do this to yourself. Why do you stay with him?”

“Because he loves me, Eddie!” She cried. She grabbed at his wrists but didn’t pull his hands away. If anything she was holding on for dear life, and leaning into his touch. “Who else would put up with me?”

Put up with her?

Oh, Jason was officially a dead man.

Eddie was about to say just that, and tell Chrissy that the right person would count themselves lucky to have her, that it was her who was settling for less than she deserved, not Jason, but a loud scuffle at the main entrance drew their attention.

Speak of the devil.

“There she is,” Jason said, sauntering over with the casual air of a nighttime stroll, as if he hadn’t just weaseled his way into the bar by force. The bouncer followed, face red and full of rage, but Jason’s two sidekicks, Andy and Patrick, remained by the door with one eye on Jason and the other on the exit.

Cowards.

Steve seemed to have put two and two together, and in the most swoon-worthy move imaginable, stepped out in front of Eddie and Chrissy like the world’s sexiest guard dog.

“What are you doing with my bride-to-be?” Jason asked with squinted eyes as he stepped up to Steve, puffing out his chest like that would somehow make up for the three inches of height difference between them.

Steve raised his hands, palms out. “Hey man, no one here is looking for any trouble. Truth be told, I'm a little more interested in the maid of honor.”

“What are you doing here, Carver? Don’t you have your own party to be at?” Eddie spat, moving to Steve’s side with Chrissy hanging off his back. As much of a turn on as this was, he didn’t need Steve to defend him from this prick.

“I just wanted to see how my girl was doing, that’s all. Is that a crime?” Jason growled.

That would have usually been Chrissy’s cue to speak up, to start making excuses for Jason’s behavior and go with him to calm him down, but this time she stayed quiet, arms shaking where they clung to Eddie.

“You mean stalking?” Eddie scoffed. “Yeah, actually. That is a crime.”

Jason lunged till he was practically nose-to-nose with Eddie, spitting as he shouted, “it’s not stalking if she’s mine, freak.”

“That’s enough!” The female bouncer announced, swiftly latching on to one of Jason’s arms and locking it behind his back.

“Don’t touch me, dyke,” Jason bellowed, trying and failing to shake himself loose from her grasp.

Eddie didn’t even flinch but Chrissy let out a shocked gasp. It certainly wasn’t the first time Jason had used a slur, but maybe it was the first time she’d really let herself hear it.

The woman, for her part, simply laughed, muttering “I am what I am,” putting more and more pressure on Jason’s arm until he cried out in pain and started to drag him away.

“Wait!” Chrissy yelled, finally darting out from behind Eddie.

“Baby?” Jason called out.

The bouncer paused, to Eddie’s dismay, but didn’t let go of Jason’s arm, letting her Chrissy get as close as she dared.

For a terrifying moment Eddie thought he’d lost her, that she was going to stay with Jason like she always had, but then she wound up, pulled her fist back, and punched him square in the face with a satisfying crack.

Eddie had never been more proud.

“Just to be clear,” she said, as they all watched blood begin to trickle out of Jason’s nose. “The wedding is off.”

“You little bitch, I—” Jason’s voice broke off in a wordless scream as the bouncer wrenched his other arm behind his back and frog marched him to the door.

Eddie quickly rushed to Chrissy’s side and scooped her up in his arms.

“That felt good,” she mumbled into his chest as she melted into the hug.

“You okay?” Eddie whispered into her hair, rocking her back and forth.

After a few she pulled back to look at him, eyes wet but a fierce smile on her lips. “Yeah, I will be.”

They stayed at the bar until last call, learning over many rounds of free drinks sent with condolences from other patrons, that Steve was not only the bartender, but that he owned the place along with his best friend Robin, who just so happened to be the bouncer who’d helped save the day.

The four of them chatted all night, and when closing time came Steve and Robin accompanied Eddie and Chrissy back to Eddie’s apartment to keep her company, and cheer her up after what had to be one of the toughest nights of her life.

To no one’s surprise, Eddie and Steve wasted no time getting together, sneaking off in the wee hours of the morning to Eddie’s bedroom once the girls had passed out on the couch, fucking until the sun came up.

They made things official halfway through brunch that very afternoon.

It took six months for Chrissy to come out as bisexual and three more for her to admit she had a crush on Robin specifically. All understandable given the big break up. But exactly one year to the day, in the same bar where the foursome had met and saved Chrissy from making a terrible mistake, she pulled Robin out to the middle of the dance floor and kissed her square on the mouth in front of all of their new friends.

Thanks to the lovely @penny00dreadful and @pearynice for all the beta work and cheerleading as usual!

Permanent taglist (open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers @sidekick-hero @firefly-party

@bookworm0690 @wonderland-girl143-blog @goodolefashionedloverboi @themagicalari @awkwardgravity1

@rocknrollsalad @eternal-sunflowers @cringe-culture-is-dead-99

#steddie fanfic #platonic hellcheer #modern au #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie #gift fic

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fuctacles · 3 months ago

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Small World

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

@genderthings Stobin at Work: custodians T | 771 | Hellcheer, Stobin, one-sided Steddie and Buckingham | Hellcheer's POV, pining, Stobin sharing a braincell, Humor, Everybody Lives AU, banter

Life is good. Everyone is alive and well, escaping Vecna with only minor injuries. And now Eddie and his best friend Chrissy, safe and sound, can focus on the mundane things in life once again. Like evading their gay crushes as they try to figure out their sexualities and not make a complete stuttering idiots out of themselves.

It seems simple, at first--ask the boys of Corroded Coffin to rent movies for them so they can avoid Family Video, or just keep up to date with what's currently showing.

It's at one of the latter instances when they first learn how difficult it could be to actually avoid them.

They're at the late night screening of some hyped up thriller. On a weekday, there were barely any people at the cinema, and Eddie was taking advantage of it by having his legs thrown over the backrest in front of him. The lights are already back on and Chrissy is ready to leave, but she settles in to wait him out--he's a firm believer of having his money's worth and he's paid for the whole movie, end credits included.

The employees usually hate him for it, but worst case scenario they'll start cleaning everywhere around and get to his seat last. But it's not like they come in vacuums blasting as soon as the lights are on.

Well, unless it's a weekday and there are literally just two assholes between them and going home.

"Hey man, could you put your feet down?"

Eddie almost falls on his ass in his haste to fix his position. Because he knows that voice.

He cranes his neck to see down the row of seats, where an unimpressed figure stands with a broom in one hand, the other one resting on his hip.

"Steve?" he asks, unwilling to believe his eyes.

"Yeah, don't get so excited." Steve rolls his eyes in that bitchy ways of his. And then he's walking down the aisle towards them, so Eddie straightens himself up. Chrissy throws him a judgmental look, but is otherwise occupied looking for her own kryptonite, undoubtedly hiding nearby.

Now that he can see him better, he can tell Steve is wearing a shirt in cinema's signature colors, thrown haphazardly over his civilian clothes.

"Don't you work at Family Video?" he blurts out.

Steve shrugs, stopping next to them and leaning against one of the seats. He finally seems to spot Chrissy, giving her a small finger wave.

"Hi, Chris. Robin is right behind, had an accident with a butter nozzle," he tells her, because her looking was not subtle in the slightest. Then he turns back to Eddie. "Well, they've cut our hours so we're looking for extra gigs."

Before Eddie can ask any extra questions, there's a clatter at the entrance, followed by a sound of distress.

"Steve! Everything is buttery!"

Steve sighs, turning around.

"I told you to use the paper towels. And the dish soap. You said you had this!"

"Well, I don't!" Robin pointedly waves her hands around, shiny with, presumably, butter residue. "I had to touch the doorknobs and the sink and the soap bottle and now everything--! Oh, hi, Chrissy!"

Chrissy waves at her, stunned.

"Well, sorry to interrupt your chit-chat but I really need Steve to be doing his job right now."

"I am!" he pointedly waves his broom around. "And what are you doing? Adding more job to our job!"

"It was not my intention! Now come help me, it's an all hands on deck situation!"

"It will be an all hands situation when we clean yours from grease!" He sighs, leaning the broom against the wall. "Sorry guys, we'll talk some other time." He smiles apologetically to their friends while trying to dodge the hands trying to oil up his face and hair. "You okay to see yourself out?"

That's a weird question. Eddie has been to the movies enough times to know his way around, and the doors stay open until the last screening is over.

The credits are still rolling, but he nods his head.

"Sure, don't worry about us Steve-o." Eddie hastily stands up, pulling Chrissy along. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Bye Chrissy, bye Eddie!" Robin yells as she's pulled into the dark depths of cinema corridors by her wrists.

"Bye guys!"

"Bye Buckley!"

"Good luck with the butter!"

Once safely outside, they scream into the dark night sky.

"Nowhere is safe," Eddie sighs, looking at the joke of a universe spreading above him.

"Not anymore," Chrissy sighs along.

"Let's just grab a TV guide on the way back."

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year ago

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one chance

111 words | T | for @steddiemicrofic's july challenge "one"

here's the text! without the names/usernames, it's 111 words exactly!

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind chris c. @/86theham uhmmm.. chris c. @/86theham eddie, sweetie, this isn’t your priv Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn can you come over and kill me dead? It’ll only take a sec… ok cool. thanks

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind Robert M. Buckley III @/bobin 👀 Robert M. Buckley III @/bobin @/steveharrington Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn i hate you

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind steeb @/steveharrington open my dm munson Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn no steeb @/steveharrington fine. be there in 5 Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn ???!!!

Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn what i would give for one (1) chance with king steve.. pls.. i promise id blow your muind Your Local Freak™ @/edmunsn update:

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #microfic #social media #social media au #socmed au #socmed #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #noelle writes #?? kinda?#does this count as writing? lmao #picture fic

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wormdebut · 1 year ago

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Give me scary metal head rock star Eddie Munson and his best friend sapphic pop princess icon Chrissy Cunningham. I need Eddie Munson absolutely bodying HOT TO GO during one of Chrissy’s shows.

#you know he would be all over it #probably stay tuned for my big bang fic probably #steddie #you know Steve somewhere going yeah I want that one #eddie munson #steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #worm brain #bb announcement coming soon #yall aren’t even ready #platonic hellcheer

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formosusiniquis · 1 year ago

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for @thefreakandthehair and inspired by this. Everyone enjoy some bee keeper!Eddie saving the day so Steve can play some baseball

Eddie picked up beekeeping the way he picked up most things in his life: accidentally and by virtue of following a crumb of serotonin straight down the rabbit hole of obsession. It isn't what he expected to do for a living, and at this point he does have to admit that when it accounted for 91% of his taxable income last year it is what he does for a living, but he likes that he gets to work outside and set his own hours. He likes that the regular customers he has who buy his honey are nice, and likes getting to advise people about things like flavor profiles and what they taste best with, it was the thing he liked best about his position at the dispensary that was now more of a side gig. And then there's his contract with city animal control that gets him called out to parts of the city he didn't even know existed to relocate hives a lot more often than he thought would happen.

It's a good life, and he likes that he's made it himself.

But it's the kind of life that gets him calls from people late at night when trying to finish binging Fallout before the internet can spoil it for him. He has a rule to always answer when Chrissy calls though, he isn't going to miss helping her if it's an emergency.

“I need a favor,” she says before he's even finished answering.

“Anything for you,” he agrees.

“You might regret saying that.”

Chrissy Cunningham turned a full ride scholarship for cheerleading into a business and marketing degree and she turned that into a fancy job with the White Sox that he didn’t fully understand but totally supported. He wore the free cap she gave him, and was endlessly glad that as a white guy he didn’t get gatekept the way girls like Chrissy did, since he couldn’t name a single player on the team.

And it was that endless support that had him in his full gear at the White Sox stadium with his smoker and bee vac.

Chrissy meets him at the front with a harried expression and a warm hug, “I’d say I owe you one but if everything goes right we’ll be totally square before the first inning.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, repeating it louder when all she gives him is an enigmatic smile.

The only answer he truly gets is being shoved into a little green cart that she drives with a frightening speed. She drives them through the stadium through a route he has no hope of remembering on his own until they reach an opening that leads straight out to the field. Eddie always had a dream, as a kid, of being a rockstar, driving out onto the diamond to a sudden and uproarious cheer is the closest he thinks he’s ever come to truly experiencing what it would be like to be famous on stage.

He hams it up of course. Waves his arms to try to get them to cheer louder as Chrissy stears them toward the lifter that he’s going to have to go up to get to the swarm. And they do, the cheers becoming an enthusiastic roar, a sound so loud he thinks he could climb them up to the bees without the lifter.

“Focus will you, you’re on national television right now.” Chrissy says, with a subtle elbow to his side.

“Yeah but how many people are watching a delayed baseball game?”

Never one to just take his smartass comments, he’s sure that Chrissy says something super witty and sarcastic back. Only Eddie made the mistake of turning his head and catching sight of the most glorious ass in the snuggest pair of pinstriped white baseball pants and lost the ability to hear. A second elbow in his side reminds his brain full of metaphorical bees that he’s on television and he doesn’t have his veil on, he isn’t about to get caught drooling on television.

The fattest ass in the stadium turns around and Eddie thinks he’s been stung. He has to be going into anaphylaxis with the way he suddenly can’t catch his breath. The guy in front of him, with a hand on his hip and his eyes trained unwaveringly on Eddie is tongue-swellingly hot. And he just keeps getting closer as Chrissy doesn’t stop driving forward.

“Steve, you’re not supposed to get this close, you're our starting pitcher you can’t get stung.” Chrissy chides.

“I just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t going to kill the bees.” The guy, Steve, says.

“He’s not.”

“I’m not,” Eddie says, shaking his head as fast as he can, like that will make things more convincing for the hot baseball guy. But he’s got an eyebrow raised giving Eddie an up and down like he still doesn’t believe him.

“Look,” he pulls out his equipment so Steve can see. “I’ll smoke them with this, that’ll make them calm so they don’t freak out when I vacuum them up with this.”

“And running them through a vacuum isn’t going to kill them?”

“It’s a gentle suck,” he says, immediately filled with a burning mortification. “It’s just enough to move them into the tank where I can relocate them.”

Hot baseball Steve has his big brown eyes open even wider, there’s a twitch at his mouth like he’s about to say something else and Eddie actually can’t have that. “Chris can we get me strapped into this thing, we want to get this big ballgame going right?”

Steve takes a couple steps back, hands raised up in a placating gesture. Whether it’s for him or for Chrissy because he didn’t listen, Eddie’s too busy putting a neon yellow safety buckle on to think about it.

He takes his time, this is basically free marketing so he’s not about to rush through or do a half-assed job. But in just a few minutes he has a vac full of bees and the game is ready to be played. The lifter gently lowers Eddie back to the ground with another round of cheers. He unclips from the safety harness and takes a shallow bow for the crowd.

Then Steve is jogging over, Eddie stands up straighter than he ever has in his life. Nervous for what is about to happen.

“You saved the game, man!” Steve has the nicest smile that Eddie has ever seen, wide and toothy. He is but a man and thus falls a little bit in love immediately.

“It was nothing, really, just part of the job, y’know.”

“Well, here’s something you probably haven’t done on the job. You have to throw the first pitch.”

“No, no, I absolutely will not be doing that.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, a mischief lights up in Steve’s eyes. He jerks his chin up at Chrissy who says something Eddie is too far away to hear into a walkie talkie. He thinks he has a guess though when the loudspeaker begins to drawl, “Laaadies and Gentlemen, our game is about to begin. Tonight’s first pitch will be thrown by our bee rescuer, Eddie Munson!”

The crowd begins to scream again, but the sound is almost like the hive's steady drone when Steve leans close enough to whisper, “It’s just ceremonial, all you’ve got to do is throw it. I’ll even play catcher for you.” And Eddie’s helpless to do anything but nod.

There’s actually a lot that has to happen before they’re ready for him to throw his sad attempt at a pitch. But that gives him the time to settle his equipment out of the way and scream at Chrissy. Still it’s sooner than he’d like before she’s shuffling him over to a big mound of dirt in the center of everything. She pushes his hat and veil back and it feels a little proud father of the bride right until she pats him on the top of his head and whispers, “Don’t fuck it up, nerd.”

His palms are sweaty, they feel too slick to get a good grip on the small, white ball. He thinks he might throw up, only across from him Steve is there. A glove on one hand he sends Eddie an encouraging little finger wave with the other.

He can do this.

He takes a deep breath and throws.

It’s awful. Too high and a little off center, but Steve snags it in that large, ungloved palm and the crowd cheers again like he’s done something fantastic. He’s starting to think they’re just happy to be here.

He starts to walk off the field, toward Chrissy where he knows he’s safe. But he can’t help noticing that Steve is jogging his way too; the ball that Eddie just threw in one hand, a sharpie in the other, his glove tucked tight under his arm. “Eddie, hey, you gotta take this with you, dude.”

Steve lobs it at him in a soft underhand, and Eddie still fumbles the catch, “Thanks, man, but really, I don’t-” the rest of his response dies in his mouth when he realizes just what Steve has scribbled across the ball.

“Give me a call if you’re interested,” Steve says, walking backward toward the mound Eddie just left, “I can show you my gentle suck.” He laughs at his own shitty pickup line, which is somehow more attractive than his whole hot jock thing.

Eddie thinks he must be blushing up to his hairline by the time he makes it back to Chrissy and his things. She looks too smug for it to be any other way. “Told you we’d be even before the end of the night.”

“Chris, if this goes well I might owe you a favor. Now we gotta go, I’ve got bees to relocate.”

#steddie #steddie fic #my fic #baseball player steve harrington #beekeeper eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #i know just enough about baseball to enjoy the occasional game lex so sorry for any egregious inaccuracies #about half of the writing time was me trying to figure out how bees are relocated

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arelliann · 11 months ago

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@astrangersummer masterpost (last one I promise! I just like seeing all the colour palettes together)

#a stranger summer #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #buckingham #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #Robin Buckley #Chrissy Cunningham

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thisapplepielife · 7 months ago

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Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Gossip Is Currency

Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows

This is cruel and unusual punishment.

Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.

They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.

Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.

Another shitty jock walks up.

"Two?" Chrissy asks.

"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.

He resents it.

It's stupid, it's–

"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.

Yeah, it's exactly that.

And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.

Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.

Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.

Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.

"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.

Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun.

"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.

Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone.

Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.

Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.

He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.

"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.

He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.

Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.

He presses another button without even really paying attention.

Welch's Grape Soda.

He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.

Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"

Chrissy smiles, "Really?"

Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.

There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."

She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.

"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently.

They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices.

The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.

Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.

"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.

Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

She does.

"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."

"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer.

She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something.

He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.

Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.

He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.

Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.

Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.

"Harrington," Eddie says.

He waits and there's no response.

"Harrington," he tries again.

"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."

Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.

"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."

And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."

Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.

Timing is everything.

Mission accomplished.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #prompt: formal #steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fan fic #platonic hellcheer #steddie fic #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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libraryofgage · 3 months ago

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Prince and the Metalhead (4)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Let's all just agree to ignore how long it's been. Got it? Great, fantastic, here's some more Princess Diaries AU hot off the presses for ya.

A little shorter than other parts have been but I think it's still fun lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

---

Hawkins hasn't changed.

That's all Steve can think as he watches the town pass by through the window. He recognizes every shop, reflexively winces at a pothole seconds before they drive over it, and can still put names to most faces he sees. The only ones he doesn't recognize are people around his age, and that's only because they've changed with puberty. Steve figures he's near unrecognizable to them, too.

The car, a subtly-armored SUV with tinted windows and brand new Indiana license plates, pulls up to a three-story house. It's not in Steve's old neighborhood, but it's bordered by the trees all the same. He could probably walk through the woods to his old house if he ever got the urge.

The outside of this new house is a cheery sunflower yellow, and the front lawn is filled with naturally-grown wildflowers. It's nested at the very end of a cul-de-sac, standing taller than its neighbors like a queen holding court.

"The HOA allowed these?" Steve asks, gesturing to the flowers after leaving the car.

Joyce opens the trunk and starts pulling out luggage as she says, "They don't get a say. This is land privately owned by Genovia. So, technically, it's not part of the neighborhood. We don't have to abide by their rules."

"I heard Hopper had fun explaining that to them," Robin says, grinning as she tosses one of the bags to Steve. He grunts as he catches it, frowning when she chooses a noticeably lighter bag to carry herself. "Watch the glare, dingus. Besides, aren't you so much stronger, anyway?"

"I was thirteen! Let it go already!"

"Nope!" Robin says, popping the "p" with a wide grin.

Steve rolls his eyes and follows her up the drive. The house has a wraparound porch with several swings and rocking chairs. Robin pushes the door open with her foot, a small bell on the inside tinkling to announce their presence. It's one of Hopper's favorite tricks, a subtle and cheap alternative to motion sensors.

"Our rooms are on the third floor," Robin says, walking through a living room to reach a set of stairs. Dustin has already started hooking up gaming consoles, too focused to notice their passing. Dart is hovering by his shoulder, tail wagging a mile a minute like Dustin might give her a treat any second now.

"Good view? Steve asks, adjusting his grip on the bag in his hands.

"Well, it's no Genovian countryside," Robin says, her eye-roll audible, "but your room does have a trellis. Real sturdy, too. Easy to climb, I'd say."

"Gee, I wonder if you're trying to tell me something," Steve says, voice dry.

From above them, he hears Jonathan say, "She wants to sneak out and party. I think this place'll be pretty dead, though."

"Tiny towns always have kick-ass parties in the movies," Robin replies. She and Steve look up in unison to see Jonathan leaning over the third story railing. "Hollywood would never lie, Jonathan."

Steve snorts as they finally reach the third floor, and Jonathan gestures to the second door on the right. "Lying is all Hollywood does," Steve says, nodding his thanks before walking over.

He hears Robin grumble about sarcasm and teen flicks, but pays it no mind. He's more focused on taking in the pastel yellow walls and huge windows of his bedroom. A bed is tucked against one wall, a large desk and chair places adjacent to it. One corner of the room is taken by a new piano, and the last holds a bookcase and oversized chair.

"Whaddya think?" Robin asks, poking her head over his shoulder to see the room.

Steve thinks about his room in Genovia. He thinks about his plaid nightmare room when he still lived with his parents. He thinks about the sturdy trellis and high school they passed and all his hopes for what this experience might be, what it might give him.

He says, "It's perfect."

----

The entire school is up in arms about some new kids. Eddie gets it, of course. The last time something this exciting happened was when Carol's thigh-high socks fell low enough to reveal suspicious rug burns on her knees. Kids tried bullying her about it, but they got bored quickly when she laughed and joked right back.

Anyway, the new kids.

Eddie wouldn't care if he hadn't been subjected to Chrissy waxing poetic about Robin, one of said newbies. Apparently, she was built lean and strong, had a snarky sense of humor, and blushed when Chrissy smiled at her.

"She sounds like a jock," Eddie says when Chrissy finally pauses to breathe. He pulls out a lighter and flicks it open. When he holds it up, hand protecting the flame, Chrissy leans in. Her cigarette catches and she leans back. "Thought you were done with jocks."

Chrissy slowly exhales, smoke curling between them as Eddie lights his own cigarette. "She's more band geek than jock," she explains.

"Still don't get all the fuss."

"That's just cuz you haven't seen her friend. Steve, I think. Totally your type."

"Oh, yeah? And what do you think my type is?"

"Boys with Prince Charming smiles. I know you like them a little preppy, too."

Damn.

She's got him there.

Eddie huffs, taking a drag to stall his answer. Despite the precious extra seconds, all he can think to say is, "We'll see."

Chrissy drops it, and Eddie thinks that's the end of it.

And then the day is over.

Hellfire Club is wrapping up, all the members lingering to interrogate the new kids that joined. They're freshmen, new to the school, and one of them is even a girl. Of the four, Dustin seems the most excited to be there, eagerly describing campaigns he's played before with Will as DM.

"Oh! And there was that time Pr- uh, Steve, joined and immediately died by tripping," he says, the words rushing out to cover his fumble.

None of them miss it, but Jeff at least pretends by asking, "How'd he manage that?" while looking at Will.

With a shrug, Will says, "They were in a volcano and he rolled a nat one."

Eddie snorts, about to ask how bad his modifiers must have been when the door opens. "Do you twerps know how hard it was to find this room?" a girl asks.

She's standing in the doorway, arms crossed with an annoyed look.

Not that Eddie cares. He's a little distracted by the literal embodiment of hotness standing next to her. The guy is leaning against the door, exuding a self-assured air that most people fail to gain after a life time. His hair is perfectly styled, he's got two little moles on his cheek that Eddie wants to lick, and his eyes are bright with amusement.

And his smile?

Oh, Eddie knows exactly who he is based on that smile.

Chrissy wasn't kidding when she called Steve a Prince Charming.

Eddie is utterly and totally fucked.

---------

Tag List (definitely more room if anyone else would like to be tagged in future parts ^_^)

@y4r3luv, @potato-of-the-lord, @lublix, @little-birch-boy, @eriquin, @whenindoubtb72, @paintgonewrong, @ihatespinosaurus, @hyperfixated-on-stuff, @bxnghy

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #eddie munson #princess diaries crossover #prince steve harrinton #modern royalty au #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #steve deserves good parents actually #anyway life has been kicking my ass #trying to get back into the groove of writing #idk if it's working but on g-d at least i have this

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artbean · 1 year ago

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REBEL GIRL

by @annanevermore (nevertheless_5 on ao3)

“I cut my hair and it’s…not good. I know you can fix it. I should have gone to you first. I was just feeling annoyed and frustrated and suddenly tired of my hair, of all the expectations of looking like this…”

He could almost see her waving her hands at herself, even over the phone. She would make it look cute. He smiled at the mental image.

“Eddie, I need you.”

on to the second @strangerthingsreversebigbang! this one was an absolute blast and i’m thrilled to have put more platonic hellcheer content out in the world. make sure to check out the fic!<3

#st #stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #eddie & chrissy #platonic hellcheer #buckingham #steddie #st fan art #stranger things fanart #st4 #stranger things 4 #2024 #lexidoodledoo #strbb #hellcheersource

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wheneverfeasible · 1 year ago

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Cheerleader!Eddie AU pt. 1

POV: Eddie

When Eddie found a sobbing Chrissy in the restrooms after school, where he had been about to tag some stupid shit about one of the football players who had left him with a bruised face a previous week, he hadn’t expected it to lead to them becoming friends, her breaking up with her shithead boyfriend, or him joining the cheer squad.

Yet here he is, wearing the stupid school colors and his long hair tied up in a ponytail to match Chrissy’s, even down to the identical green scrunchie. Chrissy was lucky he loved her. Platonically, of course. They’d kissed after everything, figuring that’s that the thing between them was, but it ended up being like kissing a sibling (or so Eddie guessed, not ever having had one before), but quickly discovered that whatever middle school crush might have existed was well and truly gone.

Everything else was just right, however, and if such a thing as platonic soulmates existed, then Chrissy was well and truly his. She had to be, to get him to agree to this stupid shit.

He wasn’t an official member of the cheer squad at first, nothing more than a glorified backup, but he helped her in all the practices and learned all the moves and somehow, without realizing when, he started performing at games and pep rallies. Which didn’t help the queer rumors from spreading, even when Chrissy acted like his beard at first. Because the rumors would have been galling if they hadn’t been true.

Don’t get him wrong; he liked chicks too. But there was something to be said about seeing a pretty boy on his knees.

He played it up, taunting the other team and his own with blown kisses and suggestive hand motions with his tongue in his cheek, but he had cheerleader privilege, and Chrissy’s best friend privileges, so he actually managed to avoid anything more than pointed words and threats, which he then always turned into a kink thing to make the jocks uncomfortable.

“Oh, you’re right, Princess, I look amazing on my knees,” he cooed with a wink when King Steve himself deigned to be one of the insulting masses. Of course, all Harrington had said was that he should stop messing around and get back under the pyramid during cheer practice instead of poking fun at the basketball players on the other side of the gym.

Harrington always flushed whenever Eddie got too weird, too freaky, too queer, and it was quickly becoming one of his favorite things. Chrissy teased him about it when he’d go out of his way to harass Harrington, telling him to stop pulling the king’s pigtails, which he vehemently denied doing.

No way. Nuh uh. Not King Steve. Gag him with a spoon, or whatever they said in the movies Chrissy always made him watch.

Soon Harrington started snapping back, however, but with an amused smile on his face. More than that, he’d snapped at Hagan to leave Gareth alone when he’d come to playfully jeer at Eddie until they could head to Hellfire together. (Chrissy had actually taken DnD up too eventually, much to everyone’s surprise, though it was less surprising than her Level 7 Chaotic Neutral homebrew half-Orc male Barbarian whose tragic backstory was only known to Eddie so far, seeing as he had helped her craft Uragoth the Undaunted.)

To say that Eddie was surprised when Harrington of all people protected a freak was an understatement. And then it kept happening. Harrington always stepped in if he saw any freak or nerd being bullied, he even used logic, pointing out that Eddie was both freak and cheerleader, so going after the freaks was going after him and the cheer squad, and did any jock really want to piss off the cheerleaders?

A jock using logic? Unheard of!

Eddie was a little flattered though to think that his freaks had best friend privileges as well because of him, that he could be the shield offering them protection simply by straddling the line between the two sects at school.

Harrington never stopped snarking with Eddie, however, always calling him a freak but always with that smile that almost spoke of something…fond.

And then it was the day of the big game, the championship, and Chrissy was giggling as she tried to pretend like she was having second thoughts, even as her hands never faltered getting him ready. They, and the rest of the squad who had slowly warmed up to Eddie, had scoured the rule book to make certain he could do it, smirking amongst themselves at the surprise they had in stock.

Eddie waited at the end of the line, waited for their introduction, and then he was running in with the rest of the cheer squad, his pale and hairy legs flashing beneath the short green skirt. Gareth and the rest of the freaks screamed, sending out wolf whistles and making enough noise to draw the attention of anyone who might not have noticed yet.

Eddie only had eyes for one person though.

Harrington’s gaze was fixed solely on him as he jogged out wearing the female cheerleading uniform, a bright pink high on cheekbones and his mouth agape, and Eddie thought he had even seen the guy swallow as his eyes took in Eddie in a skirt.

The game went exactly as the cheer squad had hoped, their secret routine putting Eddie front and center, and he took great enjoyment in rolling his hips suggestively and blowing his kisses and winks as he taunted the opposing team, resulting in more than one fumble when he distracted them. The fact that Harrington seemed equally distracted seemed something else entirely.

As well as the fact that Harrington roughly fouled the player from the other team that Eddie had pointedly flirted with during their halftime routine.

Hawkins Tigers won in the end, easily, with Harrington scoring the final winning points like the king he was, pointing at Eddie right before he took the shot with a wink. Eddie rolled his eyes, almost hoping Harrington would miss in retaliation for the tease. Instead, Harrington ended the game as the buzzer sounded with his last three-pointer and the crowd went wild.

Typical.

Less typical, however, was how Harrington strode through the crowd right after, bypassing the celebrating teammates and cheerleaders and fans that had streamed onto the court, to head straight for Eddie. Eddie was given just the barest moment to wonder if he was about to be hate crimed when Harrington’s hand landed on his back, the other cupping the back of his head, and he was spun into a dip as Harrington leaned in for a kiss.

Except Harrington didn’t immediately kiss him, he hovered above his lips, his eyes looking into Eddie’s asking for permission, and really…what more could Eddie do except wrap his arms around Harrington’s neck and close the distance?

If later that night Eddie was still wearing that skirt as he and Harrington came to an understanding, well, no one needed to know.

And if the next night it was Steve wearing the cheerleading skirt…that was between him and his king.

Part 2

#stranger things #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington #pre steddie #steddie #king steve #cheerleader eddie munson #platonic hellcheer #hellcheer #no upside down au #fanfic #wheneverfeasible #ladyxdarcy #plot thots

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fuctacles · 3 months ago

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No escape

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

@genderthings Stobin at Work: Radio Hosts 413 | T | platonic Hellcheer and Stobin, pre Steddie and Buckingham | smoking weed, pining, wanted to give Steve another song to play but apparently metal wasn't a popular thing to air in the 80s huh, stobin is larry from gumball btw

Chrissy has dismissed every single tape from his glove box, determined to fiddle with the radio instead. Eddie doesn't mind because he gets to hog the joint for the time being, sprawled on the front seat.

"Told you you won't catch a station here," he says, puffing out a plume of smoke. "It's probably the trees."

They are parked as far as the van could go, opting for a lazy afternoon out. They have weed, snacks, swimsuits if the mood hits to take the short trip to lover's lake, and Eddie's guitar if the boys take their open invitation and want to jam.

"There's the local radio though, we should at least catch that," she protests, moving through static, stopping when she hears a song and then moving on again when she can't make it sound clear.

"Hawkins has a radio?" Eddie raises his eyebrows.

Chrissy throws him a look like he's stupid.

"What?! They probably play the most basic shit anyway," he waves his hand dismissively. "And small stations have even weaker signal, don't they?"

"Maybe." Chrissy shrugs, but focuses on her task again when a clearer sound comes from the speakers again. She adjusts the dials until Kate Bush can be heard in all her glory. She motions for the joint since her task is now done and Eddie passes it to her with an approving nod. At least it's not Duran Duran.

They sit and smoke until the end of the song and then look expectantly at the radio, awaiting the next track.

"And that was "Running up that Hill" by Kate Bush for our dear friend Max. Hope you're having a great day!" the voice of the host comes on instead and Eddie inhales the smoke too abruptly. He starts to cough violently, his eyes watering. Chrissy grabs the joint away and pats him on the back.

"You're listening to Robin and Steve's lunch hour, where we air whatever we want!"

"Because it's our show!"

"And not yours!"

"What the fuck," Eddie wheezes out as they both stare at the radio in horror, the truth dawning on them. Their crushes are following them even through the radio waves.

"This song was super hard to get my hands on, so you better appreciate it. This is "Master of Puppets" by Metallica, for a good friend of mine," Steve announces.

As the song starts playing, Chrissy hands him the joint, but he raises his hand.

"Keep it, I'm gonna light another."

tags: @blasvemous @wheneverfeasible @phantomcat94 @eyehartart

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #stobinatwork #gender things #platonic stobin #stobin #mine #steddie #buckingham #hellcheer #platonic hellcheer #cj x genderthings #stobin as larry from gumball

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 2 years ago

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part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen.

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold).

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

#steddie #st #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #st ficlet #steddie ficlet #platonic hellcheer #chrissy cunningham #jonathan byers #argyle #gareth emerson #modern au #noelle writes

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