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#Hellcheer + Steve
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April '24 Fic Round Up
Fics I Wrote
Baby Duck - 1/1 - E - Harringrove and Endgame Stason - Jason likes pretty people, Steve is the pretties person he's ever seen.
Bracelets Can Be Replaced, You Can't - 2/2 - T - Stommy - Tommy and Steve make each other friendship bracelets when they are young and they make a promise to never take them off. Steve doesn't until Starcourt.
Could You Really Call This Losing? - 1/1 - E - Harringrove -Steve loses a bet, Billy comes to collect.
I'd Sell My Soul To A Devil - 22/? - T - Harringrove - Steve sacrifices himself to save Billy at Starcourt. Billy makes a promise to get him back, it's going to take him a while but he plans to keep that promise. Even if he has to make a deal with a demon to do it. Even if the price isn't right.
It's Gay! It's Always Been Gay! - 1/1 - E - Stommy - After Steve's breakup with Nancy, Tommy wants Steve for himself.
Peeled Labels - 1/1 - E - ReeferSteve ("Reefer" Rick/Steve Harrington) - Eddie won’t sell to Steve so he goes to Rick who sees an opportunity and takes advantage of it.
Skincare - 1/1 - E - Hellcheerscoops - Steve is looking to up his skincare game, Chrissy and Eddie oblige him.
The Specialist - 1/1/ - E - Harringrove - Billy is tense so Tommy gets him an appointment with someone who can help.
Fics I Read That You Should Totally Consider Checking Out
The Best Kept Secrets Never Come Out - 1/1 - G - Steter - "If there's werewolves…" began Scott after a few minutes contemplative silence, "and witches…well, there's gotta be vampires right?" There was a smattering of twilight jokes and eye rolls but Peter remained contemplatively silent and eventually the teens noticed. "Right? Peter?" Prompted Scott. Peter hesitantly shook his head. "You'd think so with their presence in pop culture but no bestiaries mention them. No other books I've read either, and I've searched." Scott pouted, but Stiles grinned. "Tough luck dude, I was always team Jacob anyways."
The Birthday Wish - 1/1 - T - Harringrove - “You’re just in time, pretty boy,” Billy said, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his denim jacket, followed by his Zippo and a… birthday candle. “In time for what?” Steve asked, confused as fuck. He didn’t even react to the pet name, he was kinda used to it. Truth be told, he hadn’t heard it for a while, since he wasn’t at school anymore, and he kinda missed it, not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. “‘m turning eighteen in a few minutes,” Billy said around the cigarette between his lips.
Hospital Blues (and a warm cut of tea) - 1/1 - T - Stommy - “Hey Tommy, It’s Steve, um, but you probably knew that.” The message starts, and Tommy freezes. Feels himself halting in place, right there in the middle of the kitchen. They hadn’t spoken in months. Not since all that shit with the Wheeler chick last year. When she ruined everything. He forces himself to inhale, to breathe again, and listens to the rest of Steve’s message. “I’m just uh, ringing from the hospital."
The AU List A-M N-Z
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Okay this one's been stuck in my head all day but I have absolutely time to write it so please share this vision with me
Try as they might, Steve and Robin couldn't get tickets to Chrissy Cunningham's arena tour, but they could get tickets to a festival she was playing.
The last thing Steve ever wanted to do was go and stand in a muddy field for sixteen hours while they waited for the headline act. But he was pretty sure Robin was in love with her favourite musician, and he wasn't about to deny his best friend a chance at love.
So he helped her make personalised t-shirts because honestly all the other bands in the line-up kinda sounded like they sucked.
His read, "Only Here for Chrissy" on the front and "I'm Steve" on the back and Robin's read "Chrissy, Will You Be My Girlfriend?" on the front and "If Lost, Please Return To Steve" on the back.
And it turned out, as they stood against the barrier in a not so muddy field, on a lovely, warm, but overcast, May day, that even bands that sucked could be fun. Even if it was only because they spent their day with earplugs in, so their eardrums wouldn't combust, bitching about each artist's lack of ability to put notes or an outfit together.
During the lunchtime intermission, the pair made friends with the lesbian couple next to them, Kayla and Jess, who were also eagerly awaiting Chrissy's set and similarly liked to mock those who committed crimes against sound and fashion. Steve was glad to have met them, they were really nice, and he felt better about leaving her to use the bathroom or to fetch food, knowing Robin was in safe hands.
He also felt better about letting her wander off, not that it stopped him from stressing out when she and Kayla had been missing for over fifteen minutes. He spread himself out to keep their places against the railing with his back to the stage, watching the crowd intently. Jess wasn't quite as chatty once they were alone, but she seemed content enough, bobbing along to the band that'd appeared on the stage.
Steve didn't turn back around to face the stage until he spotted the girls heading back towards them, he gave them a wave and turned around to look at the guys who hadn't been attempting to destroy anyone's hearing and was met with the face of the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen. Pretty face, long curly hair tied up in a bun, muscle tee showing off his many tattoos, piercings and chains and glittery Docs; Steve felt himself owl blink and blush.
God's gift to mankind was kneeling centre stage, guitar in hand making the most beautiful sounds Steve had ever heard as his fingers flew over the strings, and it was only when the rest of the band kicked back in that the man looked up, winked directly at Steve, and then jumped back to his feet, spending the rest of the song bouncing around the stage.
Steve only realised his mouth was agape when Robin finally arrived next to him and elbowed him hard in the ribs, giving him the same look she did whenever he was embarrassing in the club. He watched the rest of the Corroded Coffin, according to the backdrop, set in awe. Screaming and clapping along when they wished everyone a great day, throwing picks and drumsticks into the crowd and taking a bow; patting each other on the back as they wandered offstage.
As soon as it was quiet again, Robin wanted to know what the hell was wrong with his face and honestly, he couldn't answer her. He didn't even believe in love, not for himself at least, and he certainly didn't believe in love at first sight. It didn't stop him from spending the next couple of hours watching the faces at the sides of the stage, hoping to catch a glimpse of his new favourite guitarist, though.
As soon as Chrissy hit the stage, Steve got lost, between filming the set and watching Robin trying not to hyperventilate when Chrissy spotted her t-shirt, pointed to her, and giving her a coy little wink, blew her a kiss.
"An old school friend is here with me tonight, and I'd like him to help me out with this next track. Especially for the beauty in the front row, this is Girlfriend!"
The crowd went wild as the beat kicked in, but Steve was still watching Robin because it looked like she'd stopped breathing altogether. That was until she gasped loudly and started smacking Steve in the way she always did whenever she got overly excited; pointing wildly at the stage, and it was only when he looked over he saw Corroded Coffins guitarist bouncing up and down next to Chrissy.
Instead of the black muscle vest and skinny jeans he'd been sporting earlier in the day, he had changed into pale blue board shorts and a baggy white t-shirt that read "Hey Steve!" written in black sharpie with a giant winking smiley face underneath that could only really be seen when he swung his guitar around his back to copy Chrissy's dance moves.
The song ended, and the friends hugged, Chrissy waving him off the stage and calling out, "Eddie Munson everybody!" letting the crowd go wild for her friend before launching into the rest of her set.
By the time Chrissy had actually left the stage, Robin looked exhausted, having screamed and sung and danced herself out. They hung around a bit, said goodbye to Kayla and Jess, wishing them a safe journey home, and they were just taking one last look at the now empty stage when he heard someone yell his name...
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wynnyfryd · 10 months
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i see your “steve is an oblivious idiot who doesn’t realize he’s being flirted with” and raise you “eddie is an oblivious idiot who doesn’t realize that he’s flirting”
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formosusiniquis · 1 month
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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.”
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xoxogabriella · 1 year
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Because every useless gay in Hawkins needs an emotional support bi disaster bff
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sc00ps-ahoy · 1 year
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AAAAGH BUCKINGHAM/STEDDIE BRAINROT
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chrissymunsons · 1 month
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romance is alive and well 🐝
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inklessletter · 1 year
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I love steddie. I do. With all my heart. It's my favorite ship of all time. 100% real no clickbait 1 link mega.
And I love the fandom adopting the idea that Eddie is gay, and Steve is bisexual (and often Eddie is Steve's bi awakening, that feels accurate), but I'm also very hyped about the idea of Eddie learning he's bi because he has a brief crush on Chrissy.
I can picture him so easily after spending half an hour with Chrissy in the woods his mind going like "I thought I was into guys?!?! what's happening???", and then blushing because she was adorable all the time and then learning that he was wrong all along for sterotyping her for being a cheerleader, thinking to himself "well I think it's time to rethink a few things", and then everything goes holy shit and he gets to know Steve and he goes like "ok, yup, so apparently I've got a type and that happens to be layered jocks with unfitting reputations, hearts of gold, 80 pound sweet pupper energy, impossibly huge eyes and smiles that can eclipse the sun. I'm fucked."
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justjustbeth · 2 years
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Stranger Things season 4 is like
Robin: this is my girlfriend Nancy, and her boyfriend Steve, and his boyfriend Eddie, and his girlfriend Chrissy
Will: this is my boyfriend Mike, and his girlfriend Jane, and her girlfriend Max, and her boyfriend Lucas
Jonathan, blazed out of his gourd: woah, how does that work
Argyle, Functional Stoner: it's called polyamory, brochacho
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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
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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.”
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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
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augustjustice · 7 months
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In a regency AU, Steve and Robin and Eddie and Chrissy would be lavender married, respectively, and live in neighboring estates. Every night, Robin and Eddie high five as they pass each other walking through their adjoining yards, on their way to go and rail their one true loves.
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theshippirate22 · 1 year
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listen st4 ROBBED us of so so so much, but really I think the the biggest travesty is the fact that we never got platonic Harringham. Like, of course, platonic Stobin is so perfect in every way- i worship it really- and i don’t mean to minimize that AT ALL but like.
Steve and Chrissy absolutely LOSING THEIR SHIT at a football game.
Steve and Chrissy having a crush on the same baseball player and arguing over which pants his ass looks better in.
Steve and Chrissy giving each other the same ??? look when Robin or Eddie say something nerdy.
Steve and Chrissy going to the gym together and losing track of whose basketball shorts are whose.
Steve and Chrissy bonding over the fact that their mothers hate them.
Steve teaching Chrissy to cook and slowly helping her get over her eating disorder.
Steve and Chrissy sharing tips for sore muscles and collapsing on the couch together with bags of frozen peas and corn after going a little too hard.
Steve and Chrissy going for runs at dawn together and getting back long before Robin or Eddie would ever dream of being awake.
Steve and Chrissy throwing the biggest super bowl party ever and screaming and grabbing each other’s arms every time there’s a touchdown.
Steve, who’s been having migraines since his first concussion, helping Chrissy out, who’s started getting headaches since Vecna fucked with her head.
Chrissy offering to drive Lucas to and from basketball because she’s going to the school for cheer anyway, and it’s one less thing he has to worry about.
Steve and Chrissy sitting in on a DnD game, getting bored a few hours in and going out to the driveway to play Horse (Chrissy has never won- she wants the challenge so she never lets Steve go easy on her and he respects her enough not to)
Steve and Chrissy side-eyeing each other when someone has the AUDACITY to say they like the Colts, knowing full well that they’re going to have to dish on the person the second they get in the car (They know the Colts are Indiana’s team. The Steelers are just… better.)
Steve protecting Chrissy from creepy ex-boyfriends who just want to take advantage of her, and Chrissy protecting Steve from creepy ex-girlfriends who just want to take advantage of him.
Chrissy convincing Steve to get back into swim, and him agreeing as long as she gets back into dance.
Chrissy wearing her whole cheer uniform to his meets and sitting on the edge of the bleachers every time he’s in the pool, palms sweating as he flies through the water- Robin and Eddie went to go get McDonald’s an hour ago- eyes darting from his silhouette to the clock and back again, muttering under her breathe, “Come on, Steve, come on!”
Chrissy screaming when he wins, running to the edge of the pool to grab him, even though he’s soaking wet and she spent so long on her hair and “Holy shit, you did amazing!”
Steve making his own sort of cheer uniform to wear to her competitions, always driving her to them so he can hype her up in the car on the way. Calling “You’re a god, you can crush ‘em with your thighs!” as they split up so she can go to the dressing rooms backstage.
Steve leaping to his feet in the audience to clap the second she’s finished, whether it’s a team dance or a solo, or a duo-She’s the only one worth watching- whistling and cheering for her so loud, it would be a phenomenon if she didn’t hear him.
idk
just let Steve have another bisexual jock bestie who won’t make fun of his interests. Who knows how much he wants this, who knows how hard it is.
idk.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 7 months
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Dustin: *with a toothy grin* So, like Steve, you also swing your guitar both ways?
Eddie: That's not how you play a guitar, Dustin. It's not a bat.
Dustin: I wasn't - that's not what I was saying. I was asking if you were bisexual like Steve?
Eddie: What makes you say that?
Dustin: Well, it could be because both Steve and Chrissy are sitting in your lap.
Chrissy: There aren't any seats available.
Dustin looked at the empty couch and the floor, then back at them with an incredulous expression.
Steve: There aren't any good seats available.
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hbdttg · 1 year
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Part 1 / tag list below the cut
“I’m quitting,” Eddie declares, “I’m out. Call me a tree, ‘cause I’m leaving. Call me a banana, ‘cause I’m splitting. T-t-t-t-that’s all, folks!” he adds, doing his best impression of Porky Pig’s signature stammering.
Chrissy’s laser focus doesn’t stray from her monitor, even when Eddie bodily throws himself into the chair across her desk with a long, strangled groan. Wordlessly, she raises her left index finger at him in a silencing gesture. With her brows furrowed in concentration, she drags her mouse around on its pad and double-clicks something on her screen before nodding decisively to herself. After another few clicks, she finally lowers her finger, raises her eyes, and meets Eddie’s gaze.
“Would you mind grabbing what I just printed? Please?” she asks, smiling at him imploringly.
Chrissy could ask Eddie to bleach his hair and shave off an eyebrow and he’d do it. She’s actually who he has to thank for landing such a cushy job with HHH—a referral from a trusted associate like her goes a long way in a place like this.
And despite Eddie’s many complaints about becoming a corporate sellout, he can’t deny that it certainly has its perks. The office is only a ten-minute commute from his apartment, the compensation agreement he signed amounted to more money than his last two jobs combined, his benefits package is frankly ridiculous, and he gets to work with one of his best friends in the world. Overall, not a bad gig.
Even so, he makes a show of sighing, loud and longsuffering, before doing as Chrissy asks, leaving her office to grab her job off the printer. Eddie knows she works in HR and some of her stuff can get pretty confidential, so he doesn’t even try to skim the contents of the page as he walks it back over to her.
“Here,” he says, thrusting the paper at Chrissy facedown.
“Thanks!” she says. She makes no moves to take it from him. “That’s for you, actually.”
Curious, Eddie takes the paper back and flips it over. In the center of the page is a graphic of safety sign one might find in a cartoon factory, though Chrissy had edited the original from “[___] Days Since Last Accident” to “[___] Days Since Eddie Last Threatened to Quit His Job”. There’s a big red zero in the counter box.
Eddie tries to glower down at Chrissy, but it’s sort of hard to maintain when she bursts into laughter. It’s been years, but the sound of Chrissy laughing like this, all bright and breathless and unrestrained, never fails to transport him back to his (third) senior year of high school, when they first became friends over a failed drug deal.
“Don’t be cute,” Eddie says with a laughable lack of authority, dropping heavily back down into the chair.
“Do you know who you’re talking to?” Chrissy counters, brow raised archly.
Eddie rolls his eyes, crumpling the page into a ball and lobbing it in between them.
Chrissy lets the ball land harmlessly on her desk before sweeping it into the trashcan by her feet.  “Just so you know, I’ve had that saved on my desktop since Monday—and I haven’t had to edit the days count a single time.”
Eddie scoffs, but it’s hard to defend himself when this current visit marks the fifth day in a row he’s floundered into her office, vainly announcing his resignation. “Yeah, well,” he says weakly, “printing it seems like a gross misuse of company resources.”
“What are you going to do, report me?” Chrissy says with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
“Let me guess: you’re the one who receives those reports?” Eddie says dryly.
“Yep!” she says cheerfully. “Now, go on and tell me about your latest trainwreck of an interaction with Steve Harrington.”
“Christ, Chris!” Eddie hisses, leaping to his feet and immediately spinning around to check if anyone was around to hear her damning words. The coast is clear, luckily, but he still scrambles to shut her office door before falling back into his chair. “You can’t just go around saying his name all willy-nilly.”
“He’s not gonna suddenly appear if you say his name three times, Eddie. See, watch. Steve. Steve. St—”
“Don’t risk it!” Eddie squawks loudly, cutting her off.
“You’re an absolute mess,�� she says through a laugh, shaking her head at him.
And well, Chrissy’s not wrong.
Eddie’s been a mess since Monday morning, when he unknowingly produced, directed, and starred in The Roast of Steve Harrington. He blames his shitty memory for forgetting what floor his new office was on—if he’d known he was sharing the elevator with someone he could have potentially worked with (let alone someone whose surname made up a third of the company name), he wouldn’t have opened his big, fat mouth in the first place.
When he finally gathered the courage to make it back down to the fifty-second floor and show his face at the HHH office, he kicked off his onboarding with Chrissy with a strangled, “I know it’s my first day and I technically just started ten minutes ago, but I quit. Thank you for the opportunity and good-bye forever.”
Chrissy, the traitor, spent a full five minutes laughing in his face over his shamefully recounted story before patting him twice on the head and informing him he wasn’t allowed to quit for at least six months. The overly saccharine tone of her voice alone told Eddie there was no room for argument there.
Still, that didn’t stop him from following her into her office after the all-hands meeting on Tuesday, all the while whining in her ear, “I can’t thrive in these conditions, Chrissy. Please, I beg of you—accept my sincere and humble resignation from this cursed hellscape.”
‘These conditions’ consisted of any rooms and/or conversations that contained Steve Harrington. Eddie hadn’t been expecting to see the guy doting over the catering when he walked into the conference room that afternoon, and he certainly wasn’t expecting his supervisor and trainer, Murray, to lead him over to Steve to introduce the two of them (though that was likely just an excuse to head straight for the sandwiches that were laid out for the meeting).
While Eddie choked on his own tongue trying to spit out some generic, inoffensive greeting, Steve merely watched him with an amused smirk before thrusting his hand out and offering a perfectly friendly “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie, I’m Steve”, as if Eddie didn’t have Steve’s name and face (and stupidly fit body—who the fuck looks that good in a pair of khakis?!) burnt into his memory from the day prior.
Afterward, Murray, who most assuredly did not have a filter of any kind, bluntly commented on Eddie’s awkwardness, then spent the next five minutes trying to determine if it was normal, strangers-meeting-for-the-first time awkwardness, or something more sensational. Eddie stubbornly kept his mouth shut until the meeting started.
Wednesday followed a similar pattern, with Eddie flouncing into Chrissy’s office with a dramatic “I choose to break my blood oath. At this point I’d welcome the sweet release of death if it meant I didn’t have to work here anymore.”
Chrissy just corrected him, patiently explaining that he was employed at-will, rather than by blood oath, and that if he left before his sixth month, she’d personally skin him alive. Eddie had to pause and weigh the pros and cons of being skinless. Surely it couldn’t be worse than his latest exchange with Steve—via email this time, mercifully.
He’d just learned how to field helpdesk tickets and received one from Steve Harrington himself. It was a simple enough software request ticket, so he assigned it to himself and replied with next steps, asking Steve for a code so he could remote into his computer and install the program.
Steve replied back, asking where he was supposed to find the code. It was an innocuous enough question, but then Eddie noticed something a little off about his email signature: his last name was bolded.
Eddie ignored it, assuming it was a stylistic choice—nothing to read into, surely—but then Steve sent another email shortly after to let him know to disregard his last email; he’d found the right app and was just waiting for it to generate a code. This time, Harrington was bolded and at least two sizes bigger than his first name.
Then, in Steve’s third email, sent not a minute later with the requested code, Harrington was bolded, two sizes bigger than his first name, and highlighted yellow—a tactic Chrissy found so hilarious that she had to shoo Eddie out of her office with tears in her eyes so that she could compose herself and actually get some work done.
Thursday was a blessed reprieve from Steve’s unique brand of psychological warfare, but Eddie still somehow managed to royally humiliate himself in front of him. After he slunk into her office and silently pushed a scribbled-on napkin across her desk—
Please accept this letter as my formal resignation from my position as Systems Analyst II at HHH, effective immediately. Effective yesterday. In fact, I’ll pay you back the entirety of my wages earned if we just forget I ever worked here.
—Chrissy tutted at him sympathetically before taking the napkin and reaching over to dab it at the large wet stain on his shirt.
He’d been walking back to his desk from the breakroom when he rounded a corner and bumped into Steve in the hallway. Literally bumped into, bodily contact and surprised yelps and everything. And it probably wouldn’t have been such a big deal, really, if not for the fact that he had a newly refilled mug of coffee in his hand.
“Eddie, oh my god, are you okay?”
No, Eddie wasn’t okay, because he just splashed himself with hot fucking coffee and now Steve Harrington was worriedly fussing over him and tentatively trying to mop up the liquid with his own fucking hands for some reason, and he was embarrassed (and a little turned on?) and he had to get the fuck out of there now.
“I’m okay, sorry, it’s fine—” he managed to squeak before whirling around and scurrying to the bathroom.
So yes, Eddie’s been an absolute mess the past few days, and today is no different.
…Actually, scratch that. Today is different. Today is worse.
“Okay, now spill,” Chrissy says. “What happened?”
With another drawn-out, pitiful groan, Eddie sinks down in his seat and lets his neck hang off the backrest, blinking up at the ceiling.
“Talk to me, Eds,” Chrissy says, concern starting to bleed into her voice. “If he’s actually bullying you, you can file a complaint. I have a form here somewhere.”
Eddie hears her open one of her desk drawers and reluctantly sits up. “He’s not bullying me, Mom,” he says with a huff. “We actually…we talked.”
“You talked?” Chrissy asks, eyebrows raised.
“Yeah, about the elevator. Buried the hatchet and everything. I said sorry, we laughed about it, it’s over and done with.” Eddie’s gaze darts around Chrissy’s desk, searching for something to distract him from the warm and fuzzy feeling growing in his stomach at the memory of their conversation.
“That’s great, I’m so proud of you!” Chrissy says cheerfully. “But wait, if you two are good now…”
Eddie doesn’t want her to ask what she’s about to ask, because the answer might be more embarrassing than all of his other Steve stories combined.
“Why are you still going on about quitting?”
Eddie drops his face into his hands, feeling totally and utterly pathetic. “Um, because I think I’m sort of, kind of, just a little bit…in love with him?”
-------------------------------------
tbh I didn’t think I’d be writing a second part, but if strangers on the internet validate me enough, I guess I’ll do anything~
Y’ALL. I’m blown away by the response to part one of this silly lil au. I didn’t reply to any of the lovely comments or tags, but please know if you engaged in any way (or even if you just read the fic and snorted a little through your nose at a bit you found funny) I love you with my entire heart and you’ve made my entire life.
[Now for the tag list, which I’ve never done before. Sorry if you didn’t actually want to be on here! Or, sorry if you’re stumbling upon this post on your own after asking to be tagged and I missed you oops.]
@messrs-weasley @n0-1-important @bornonthesavage @thing-a-ling @eddiemunsonswife @changenamelater @ispyblu @thesuninyaface
@invisibleflame812 @4nemo1egend @ikolanatari @mavernanche @songbird-garden @trashpocket @original-cypher @over7joyed 
@commonxsenss @justdyingontheinside @mojowitchcraft @maya-custodios-dionach @justmiiriam @imzadidragonfly @lillemilly @gay-stranger-things @child-of-cthulhu @bleedingoptimism @lemanzanabizarra @melaniehere91
@iswearitsjustme @silver-snaffles @csinnamon-fox @paint-music-with-me @epicsteddieficrecs @sweetcreaturetm @hxneyfarms @bossyknow-it-all @vecnuthy @stevethehairington @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @nburkhardt
@gayngerthings @patchworkgargoyle @violetsteve @henderdads @2btheanswertothequestion
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hangon-silvergirl · 10 months
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stranger things + shirts that go hard (+)
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blueywrites · 1 year
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to know you're mine
Where you and Steve swing with Eddie and Chrissy, and it gets complicated. (18+ only)
Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham x Steve Harrington x You
You know the rules. You'd been there when your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, discussed them with the others. There are only two.
Number one: Only play when everyone's together.
Number two: No finishing inside each other's girls.
You'd agreed to these rules, same as Chrissy. Same as Eddie.
But then there's rule number three, and though it remains unspoken, it's by far the most important.
And you have that feeling again, like when you propped yourself up against the barstool, straining to see him on that stage, craning for a glimpse as his husky voice reached inside you. Now, his dark eyes are doing the same thing: pulling at something buried deep, tugging it into the light where it can't be hidden.
And, sure, of course, you didn't intend this. But what are intentions in the face of such things?
Needless to say, every rule gets broken.
story tags: modern!au, fem!reader, chubby!reader, body insecurity, swingers, lots of smut, group sex, dirty talk, emotional hurt/comfort, cheating, angst with a happy ending
chapter one : enjoy the silence (9k)
chapter two : the lion's roar (11k)
chapter three : my curse (14k)
chapter four : touch tank (16k)
chapter five : bejeweled (15k)
chapter six : hey girl (18k)
chapter seven : entombed (13k)
chapter eight : just pretend (13k)
chapter nine : liberation (8.7k)
chapter ten : overcome (10k)
chapter eleven : angel (14k)
chapter twelve : late bloomer (14.5k)
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