Piggybacking off this post of mine.
I think it’s hilarious if every member of Hellfire secretly thinks that Steve is an alright guy. No one ever mentions it because Eddie would be unbearable if he found out that they didn’t hate every jock (even the one he has a crush on). The ranting would never stop.
Like one time during Grant’s freshman year, he was getting his bike out of the rack when Steve stopped to tie his shoe. He casually says, “Just so you know, Tom- some upperclassmen like to steal the screws on freshie’s bikes. A kid last year ate shit and knocked out three teeth.”
Totally saved him from what could’ve been an embarrassing accident because every screw in his bike had been loosen to the point of nearly falling out.
The next day, Steve winked at him in the hallway like they had a secret and Grant felt totally normal about it.
There are two things Jeff knows about his step-dad: (1) he likes to restore old cars in their driveway, and (2) he keeps trying to get Jeff to help him with it. Jeff does not want this. He hates cars. It’s boring.
The one day, he gets home from chess club and Steve Harrington is standing in his driveway, holding a flashlight while his step-dad works under the hood. He’s wearing running shoes and the little shorts Eddie is always lusting over, and Jeff is…fully confused.
He doesn’t even say anything, just goes inside.
Then on Saturday, Jeff wakes up fully prepared with an excuse on why he can’t work on the car, but Steve Harrington is in his driveway again with the hood of his BMW up. When he looked out the window later, he can see Steve’s feet sticking out from under the junker.
Two weeks go by and Steve keeps making appearance in his driveway, but no one is asking Jeff to work on the car so. He fully accepts that he walked into the Twilight Zone and never mentions it to anybody.
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##let us adore you
jeff the killer x reader / eyeless jack x reader / ticci toby x reader / UNEDITED
synopsis: general headcanons in which how you met them
beware: DARK THEMES / yandere traits, stalking, implied manipulation, mentions of murder &&* gore //: if there is any that i missed, please let me know !
envelope from the author: masky, hoodie, and kate chaser will be pt 2 of this:)
JEFF THE KILLER
he met you at a convenience store, how funny. this man planned on killing the cashier, take the cash and leave a meal for his cannibal friend out back, then hop to the next town over. yet, you walked through the aisles of the store at the dark of the night. do you know what kind of creeps are out here at this hour?
he waited for you to leave before he got the job done. you should feel relieved, you should feel like the most luckiest person in the world and it’s because he spared you.
“no, i’m staying back.” he would tell his eyeless friend. “it’s my business to know and for you to fuck off,” he’d argue. “i have a… dilemma.” jeff confessed. for someone he only caught a glimpse of, for a voice he only heard a faint whisper from, he didn’t know whether to stay just for you or to leave while he can.
you were a plague in his mind, because he searched for you. it took three days at most to finally find the dorms you stayed in, and another three to know your roommates schedule. everyone in the area was shaken from the murder, everything including you. but why?
he could not understand why you would lock your windows and double check if the door was locked. both of you lived in a secured building where security littered the grounds and constantly checked ID. jeff would know, he stole a carbon copy of himself (in terms of dressing style) just to make sure of your safety on campus.
“hey, watch it!” jeff barked at the random who sped by you. he fixed his mask and came to your aid, a gloved hand coming over yours to help you up from the grass.
“oh, they’re probably just late to class,” you breathed. “it’s fine, but thank you.”
through the thin lens of his sunglasses, jeff drank in your appearance. “they could’ve bumped you on to the curb side — it really ain’t, sweetheart.” you smell great by the way.
“but they didn’t.” you finally looked at him and smiled. “are you a med student?”
you’re so sweet. so pure, and he wanted to corrupt that. he wanted to see those pretty doe eyes flutter up at him like that again, for the sweetness behind your gaze was enough for him to melt. he wants you, no, he needs you.
EYELESS JACK
you were a curious one, a little too curious in this scenario. a detective in a case of which you were to figure out why bodies were missing organs — or why people were waking up with soreness to their abdomen to only find a stitched up wound.
you took this case as an eager detective who wanted to solve the biggest mystery of north america — but you felt as if you just signed your life away. in the next eight victims that fell to their demise, you made notes of when and where it occurred. it would not be until a night after talking with the sheriff and little too much rum, you found something.
to your horror, the first letter of every street spelled something. two words that nearly sent you running if it weren’t for something stopping you from leaving
“found you.” his voice was a gentle whisper, and almost incoherent if it weren’t for the dead silence in the room. you dared not turn but you felt if you didn’t, it would come closer.
the pistol is on your desk and you’re ready to make a ruckus for anyone on the street to hear. “what? was this just some silly little game for you to show me you could spell?” there were only two regrets you had in your entire life.
the first regret was that you wished you never lied to your mother of who broke the plate that was on the floor. the second regret was turning around and facing a being that was too intricate for you to understand.
“i like playing with my food.” he replied before lunging at you.
you made it out alive — but at the cost of remembering how those sockets were nothing but a void. the liquid that cried on to your face when he was on top of you, and that second, you took your pen and stabbed his side. — but that encounter made you more determined than before
this case turned into a game of cat and mouse, and neither of you know who is cat or who is the mouse. chasing each other became a source of entertainment, and conversations ensued between physical fights
he never intended on killing you, oh no. you were too… fun. the chatting, the hunting each other, the thrill of it all made him go crazy. with time, maybe he can finally sink his teeth into your skin without the murder aspect. he just wants to taste you.
TICCI TOBY
your name appeared on the file of people to “take care of.” why? he doesn’t know and quite frankly, he cannot care. you were just another name on the list that needed to be gone.
he would not lie that it took him ages to find you. the town you were supposedly at was a total flunk, and when he told the boss, he was told to figure it out. at this rate, he wanted you gone for the sake of his own sanity. yet, after a month and hopping two towns, he finally found you.
everything he had on file sprouted nothing but lies because you were a doll, quiet literally if he fixated on your skin. he watched the way you moved and the way you made it seem effortless to walk on two feet. he often tripped over his when gawking over you. your scent is just how he imagined it when he peered over your sleeping form.
you made him forget why he was in search of you in the first place. toby fantasized a lot about you: your curves, your voice, your walk, your life. he often daydreamed of it when watching from afar, especially when you went through mundane tasks such as grocery shopping. the only time he remembered why he was told to end you was when he questioned why you were such a threat.
turns out you were friends of a friend who was a foe to his boss — the eyeless man. he made it no secret when in turn he went to find jack, but he didn’t expect to meet you so soon! oh, this is way too soon, how does he look? is it okay, this setting isn’t the right place, i mean, you were supposed to be
“toby? just toby? that isn’t quiet threatening for a man like that, isn’t it?” you werent speaking towards him, but instead asking jack who snorted in return.
you were a prize on the shelf, and toby wanted to keep you behind glass doors. “listen — pal, friend — how about we make a deal.”
while jack couldn’t see it, your gaze was locked with toby’s the entire time. there was something behind them, something that you couldn’t quite place. you weren’t sure whether if it was a good or bad thing considering the work you found yourself in.
“i give you a useful warning from a boss, and i... tag a long sometimes.”
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pop goes metal
for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'
rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together
🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤
"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"
The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."
"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.
"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."
"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.
"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."
Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.
Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.
He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.
His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.
Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.
Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.
"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."
"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."
"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.
"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.
"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.
"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."
****
Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.
He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.
"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.
Eddie stared.
"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."
Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?
"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"
Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.
"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."
"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.
"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."
But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.
"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.
Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.
"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.
"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."
Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.
"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."
Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.
"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.
"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"
"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.
"Um. No I guess not."
"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?
"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.
"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."
"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.
"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.
"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.
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