#feeder eddie munson | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

Text

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 4,752 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, angst, swearing, loneliness, mentions of drugs and crime, mentions of imprisonment, family issues, feeling unwanted, slight bullying, anxiety, nightmares, insomnia, depression, loss and grief, mentions of spit, super brief mention of alcohol and vomit, very brief mentions of breakups and inappropriate sexual relations (nothing reader or eddie are apart of). i think that’s it!

a/n: this is my first attempt at a slow burn series so i hope it’s good! i’m also trying a new setup with photos instead of gifs ^ i’ve seen a lot of other people do it and i think it looks really cool so! also creds to who owns and posted these photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

Eddie Munson had grown bitter since you last saw him. To be fair, the last time you saw him was when you were kids but still. You always knew him to be boisterous. Adventurer Eddie. Eddie with the weird ideas and cool drawings. Eddie who made you laugh until your stomach cramped and you would cry out that he was going to make you wet yourself.

You didn’t know it as a kid but even then he couldn’t catch a break from the world around him, and apparently it never stopped spiraling even when it beat him into a hollow shell covered in grease during the weekdays and alcohol—and occasionally vomit—on the weekends. He was worn down by his own worries that never seemed to cease and miserable stories of others admitting things they should’ve never said aloud. Sometimes the stories were fun or at least amusing, but mostly just depressing. This was Hawkins after all.

This wasn’t an Eddie you knew. Had someone told you that man in the garage wasn’t him, you simply would’ve nodded and kept going on your journey to find him.

But it was him, and you were positive he was meant to be back in your life. No matter how much it was hurting right now.

You didn’t know why he left at first. It was as if he ceased to exist, and sometimes—when you were all alone at night—you wondered if he had been a ghost. If he had been an imaginary friend, but surely not? He had his own home you hung out in. His own dad who let you guys eat too much junk food and stay up too late. He looked and sounded real when he would scarf down several bowls of honeycomb cereal with those slurping noises you always hated and would whine at him over. He felt real when you would play wrestle—and unfortunately very real when he won and would pin you down while slowly letting a string of saliva stretch down towards your face in an empty threat. He never really did it, but it was gross all the same, and when he’d let up you’d punch his arm as hard as you could.

One day, you asked if your parents remembered him and your father scoffed at the question while he stared at the newspaper, but at least he acknowledged you at all. Meanwhile your mother had all her focus on putting her earrings in and checking her makeup in the small mirror on a wall surrounded by family photos. Those framed pictures felt emptier than the looming threat of Eddie’s spit touching your face.

“Well his father’s a bottom feeder stuck in prison,” your dad flicked his paper to straighten it out again from where it had begun to bow backwards. “And his kid is probably no better. You’ll make other friends.”

You never understood why he was so cold about the loss of your only friend. You’ll make other friends. Yeah right. No one liked you. Everyone made fun of the way you sat idly on swings just to kick on occasion as you focused more on the book in your hands, or the way you’d squat down and give all your attention to a bug in front of you. Either a line of ants that you regarded with pure intrigue because you wondered how they always filed so neatly and did their best to stay together. Sometimes you left crumbs by them just to see if you could watch them pick them up. You’d watch snails and show them the attentiveness and respect you felt they deserved as they slowly trudged along—so determined, you thought. You’d watch butterflies and try to keep track of all the different kinds you saw. A lot of them were small and fluttery with those buttery white wings, but sometimes you saw a monarch and your eyes would grow large with excitement.

You cried when Zachary McKay would stomp on the anthills or teased you about how the French ate snails—something his dad would say was just more proof of how odd Europeans are. They were one of those arrogant “We love our Country!” households with an “I can do whatever I want—America is the land of the free” ideology and it showed in their unbridled and privileged ass of a child. You didn’t inform him that one Spring of the wasp nest that formed on the underside of the slide he frequented. Maybe it was mean, but you were content in silence over on your swing when you heard him crying out in pain one day. He developed a crush on you in high school that dramatically contrasted how he treated you in grade school—and even tried to make a move at Maddi Ecker’s 17th birthday party—but you could only think of the ants and the snails. You turned him down and he was horrible to you again.

You eventually did make some friends, other odds and ends throughout your school, but it wasn’t the same as it was with Eddie. Maybe it was childish and stubborn, but you could feel it deep in your gut that he was one of a kind. So you couldn’t let him go. All those years you ached for your friend who you considered lost. He always came up with wild stories and (when you were still relatively young) you imagined he had become a pirate and was lost at sea. Or became a gunslinger in the Wild West and didn’t draw fast enough. Maybe he went to slay dragons and wound up a burnt crisp of a human. That last one made you cringe the most, but he probably would’ve liked it the most. He loved mythical creatures the way you adored real creatures. By high school you weren’t as naive. You heard about his dad—caught with multiple charges of grand theft auto, a hit-and-run in one of said stolen cars, and dealing drugs. The hard shit. Not weed or shrooms. But the kind of stuff that really ruins lives.

You always thought Eddie had a good home. His dad didn’t hate him the way you were sure your parents hated you, and he had a nice house. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but they really didn’t need anything beyond a one story and a sizable basement with only two of them. In hindsight, you supposed he couldn’t find a home in that childhood house anymore than you could with yours. Yours lacked love. His lacked a reliable source of income.

Over time you heard about the night with all the sirens and social workers. The night he turned into a spirit that had finally moved on—an imaginary friend that your growing mind ceased to conjure. He lived with his uncle over in Indiana, rather than your small town in Ohio. Even in your mid twenties, he flashed in your mind like a small blip on occasion and it still twisted your stomach.

You thought of asking if you should go to him whenever you remembered, but you thought you needed a sign. What if you showed up too early? And you messed up any possible grand plans? So you avoided indulging in questions about him to your tarot cards or over your pendulum map. On occasion you caved and just asked a simple question: is he safe? It was a yes every time you broke and just had to check up on him, and the answer reassured you for long enough until the next time the concern rose up to unbearable levels.

But then you started getting those dreams. Sometimes they were just memories playing from deep within the archives of your mind. Sometimes they were nightmares of yelling at someone to go away, only to realize it was Eddie far too late—and when you wanted to run after him to correct the mistake, you couldn’t move as quickly as you knew you were capable of.

It went on for about a month before you finally broke. Your eyes had snapped open, accidentally waking yourself in the middle of saying what you had been shouting to Dream Eddie out loud into your pitch black room. You glanced at the time. 11:11 PM. You felt your heart skip a beat before you shoved yourself out of bed. You had to take a moment to steady yourself against your bedpost from the sudden movement making you dizzy, but then you were flicking on the light and digging through your belongings. You didn’t even give yourself a chance to wipe away at the thin sheen of sweat over your skin from August heat mixed with a cheap fan that really didn’t make that much of a difference, and the stress from the events that had played deep in your mind while you slept.

With a shaky breath, you smoothed out your map on the floor where you were squatting, and steadily held your pendulum over the center. Does he need me? You finally asked and watched as the chain connected to a sphere of rose quartz slowly began to circle. It sped up and then began to dart in different directions before finally swinging back and forth between both of the “YES''s on the piece of cloth.

It took a little over a month to arrange your departure from your life in small town Ohio—not that small town Indiana was really all that different. You had briefly been back at your childhood house after your lease came to an end for the apartment you shared with a friend (who didn’t want to renew because she wanted to move in with her boyfriend, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her that the card spread you had laid out all pointed towards a breakup). All of this to say you didn’t have a lease or mortgage to tie you down. You certainly didn’t have a boyfriend (you haven’t had one since college), and you didn’t even like your job at the local mart so it was easy to give your two weeks. Your parents were just as sick of your presence now as when you were a child, and were willing to help you in every way possible to get you to just leave again. Had you not been so focused on your end goal, you might’ve taken a beat to really feel the hurt that always came with parents who only came to your aid when it meant keeping you at arm's length. But you couldn’t focus on it and really (for the sake of your mental health) you shouldn’t focus on it. All of your energy went towards Eddie who seemed so far, even if he was supposedly just a few hours and a state line away.

You didn’t have a place yet, which was a mistake on your part for rushing, but you could stay in a motel for the time being. The prices were pretty low anyways and the owner seemed pleasantly surprised by the sudden source of money and company. The lot belonged to her husband who had passed a few years back, so now it was only her running the place. Her daughter helped sometimes, but she had another job to focus on—only coming to help when the older woman was ill. So even though she appeared kind of grumpy at first, she really softened up to you when you wound up padding out of your room the first night and asked if she wanted to play Go Fish. You had been feeling antsy and lonely, and you were right to assume she felt lonely too.

Over the past week or so, you found a friend in that creaking, groaning motel. You did have a bit of a tendency to befriend the adults around you more often than kids your age when you were younger and it still happened now, apparently. A shrink at university pointed out once that it had to do with the lack of guardianship and guidance growing up. That you were trying to replace something that had always been missing, but you didn’t go back to him after a couple sessions. You didn’t like how patronizing he was, telling you things you already knew. And when you asked your dowsing rods if he was sleeping with any of his clients, the two pieces in your fists whipped open in a blatant “Yes!” But he wasn’t around now to make you feel low with his supercilious commentary and his notes that he always scratched down right in front of you. Your parents weren’t around to remind you of how utterly unlovable you can be. It was just you, Martha at Hawkins’ Blue Bird Inn, and hopefully a pleasant reunion on the horizon.

Today was the day to finally see Eddie, and Martha urged some confidence into you this morning before sending you on your way with the directions to the garage. No matter how many times you clarified he was just your childhood best friend, she got that sly look about her that always showed when an adult was all amused about the novice in front of them being openly or involuntarily blind to love.

So there you were. On a mild Wednesday morning in late September, standing before Thacher Tire after a lot of asking around, a lot of time flipping through Martha’s phone book, and even more odd looks. You let out a careful breath, doing your best to reassure yourself with the knowledge that the people you spoke to knew his name in the first place. He had to be here, and even if he wasn’t working today he should at least be employed here. Maybe you could be told when to come back to speak with him or where you could find him outside of work. Would they share something like that? People don’t tend to care about privacy in small towns, that’s why everyone knew (generally) where everyone else was. Maybe if you clarified that you’re an old friend, they wouldn’t treat you as a customer and tell you where he would be.

You were wringing your hands as you eyed the door in front of you. The glass looking in was worn from age and weather, clearly cleaned so people could see through it, but there seemed to be an aging to the corners where the rectangle of glass met the surrounding wood that couldn’t be scrubbed out. It felt like a portal looking into what could be, and you suddenly felt yourself getting anxious with what exactly meant could be. You had a knack for catastrophizing, and spiraled in all of the worst case scenarios until you were running back to your car and abandoning the lot.

“Trust me, it’s not as scary as it seems. Going for those intimidating opportunities is always better in the long run than letting ‘em slip away,'' Martha murmured to you before biting into the sandwich you brought her.

You bought typical fast food that you always came running back to when you were stressed, but she didn’t like the grease. You learned that over the past week when you brought up your bad habit, and her nose scrunched up at the mention of crappy burgers and overly salted fries. Instead you got her a tuna sandwich from the nearby marketplace, and she shared her big jug of iced, sweet tea with you.

“I haven’t seen him for over ten years…,” you sigh, toying with the crackling paper that was wrapped around your cheeseburger. “What if I’m the only one who clung onto our friendship? What if it’s stupid to him?”

“Mm, us women always do hold on longer,” she hummed thoughtfully and you refrained from your urge to correct her old-fashioned view of gender dynamics for the sake of staying on topic. “I still think you should go for it.”

“What if… what if it’s not what I think it’ll be? What if I’ve turned him into someone more fictional than Eddie in my mind, and when I’m faced with how he really is now I just… I dunno…wish I didn’t come here?”

“They never are what you conjure up. They’re always better up here,” she pointed a bony finger to her temple and you focused on one of the curls in her short gray hair for a second before bringing your gaze back to hers. “I still think you should go for it.”

You huff out a laugh at her repetition, smiling sadly to yourself as you look down at your hands and notice the thin sheen of grease on them. Maybe Martha’s right. Maybe this food is gross. You grab a few napkins from the brown paper bag and wipe at your fingers.

“Just think of it this way: is it worse knowing the truth or worse never knowing?”

Eddie had been having a shit day. Actually he had been having a shit week. If he let himself truly indulge in his pessimism, he’d be acknowledging that he’s altogether just had a shit life, but he was trying not to fall into that trap. It would make him the kind of depressed and bitter that made him snap at others and then feel guilty about it—which only made him feel worse about himself.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, a sudden flare up of his insomnia throwing off his circadian rhythm. He thought with how busy his schedule was that he’d knock out the second his head hit the pillow, but he only seemed to be exhausted until he finally laid down. Then was when his thoughts randomly chose to run and his heart would race with the sudden surge of anxiety-inducing thoughts. He was beginning to feel so overwhelmed by everything that his eyes burned with the beginnings of hot tears but he wiped at them carelessly with the heels of his hands before they could become too real. In his mind, they didn’t exist until they fell.

Eddie ached with exhaustion that only seemed to let up when he could actually get a shot at some rest. He ached with loss and grief. He ached with pure misery and painful seclusion and a silent trailer—besides the occasional buzz of electricity through his lamp that he turned back on when he realized he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, or the groan of the old mobile home settling against its cinder blocks. The upcoming season made itself known through the ever growing chill that formed at night and occasionally blew through every crack and crease of the trailer, making him shiver and pull his blankets up before inevitably growing hot again and kicking them away.

He missed his friends that he rarely saw. Everyone is busy nowadays. He missed Wayne who… god, he couldn’t even think about it. He missed Chrissy who lit up his world Spring of ‘86 just for them to drift apart. People seemed to drift from him a lot. People seemed comfortable with forgetting him and giving a brief call only when they got a pang of guilt at any reminder that they were getting awfully close to leaving him behind. But who was he to drag them down? It was heart-aching enough to live the way he did sometimes, let alone when people acknowledged just how heart-aching it was. Sometimes he even missed his dad, but he always avoided thinking too hard about him before it could sink his mood to a new level that would be hard to crawl out of.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep Wednesday night until early into Thursday morning. He settled into a deep rest around 4 AM just to be abruptly woken up by his 6:30 alarm to make sure he was at Thacher’s by 7:00.

“Fuck off…,” Eddie groaned out loud and slammed his fist down onto the alarm clock, never lifting his face from where it was planted right against his worn pillow.

He laid there for what felt like forever, but was really only a few minutes before he finally peeled himself out of his spot. Forcing himself from the comfort of his old mattress was never easy, especially when he couldn’t rely on any excuses he made up as a teenager to just flop right back into his bed. He had to get up. He had to work.

He went to make his usual toast just to see there was only the end piece left in his loaf of bread, and let out a guttural groan of frustration as he tilted his head back. He forgot to stop at the store. Grumbling a bitter so that’s how today’s gonna go under his breath, he shoved the sad excuse for a slice of bread into the toaster and then began looking through the kitchen for something else to satiate him until lunch.

He wound up eating what was left in his jar of peanut butter with a spoon after slathering the small piece of toast with jelly. He didn’t have time to clean a travel mug (which he forgot to clean last night) so he took a regular one with him on his commute, and wound up dumping his coffee all over himself mid-sip when he had to stop short for a kid suddenly biking across the road. The young teen laughed at the close call and made his way to the other side of the street. Eddie glanced down at his drenched t-shirt and coveralls, releasing his third irritated groan of the morning while he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of his van before focusing back on the road and moving his foot to the gas. He focused on taking deep breaths as he gripped the steering wheel and made his way to the shop.

Thankfully, Linda had already started a pot of coffee in the break room which he happily drank and patted at his wet clothing with one of the blue shop towels. Staining was inevitable and it really didn’t matter with the coveralls anyways, but that didn’t mean he had to be damp. Taking that moment at the start of his shift helped with his mood, but the amount of customers bitching over the phone about how long it was taking to get their cars back were steadily draining him back into a surly mood. The most he had to look forward to and keep himself from unnecessarily snapping at someone was the fact that it was almost the weekend—and yes he would still have to work nights at The Hideout, but at least he didn’t have to get up early.

Never knowing was decidedly worse.

You had concluded this after ruminating on it all night—with and then without Martha’s help. And despite all of your anxieties that were just barely buried under the surface, you made yourself go to the garage again.

An obnoxious, tinny bell sounded and a dull voice said from behind a counter: Welcome to Thacher Tire. What can we do for you?

You approached carefully as if you moved too quickly, the depressing gray and beige setting around you—which held far more meaning for you than just fixing cars—would suddenly melt away and you’d wake up.

“Do you know where I could find Eddie Munson?” you asked in a soft voice, and the woman obnoxiously chomping at her gum looked up at you over the top of her glasses before looking back down at the paperwork in front of her.

“He’s in the garage. Is he working on your car?”

Your heart jumped and although you hated to lie, you did.

“Yes,” you said probably too quickly, but it seemed nothing could get this woman to care.

“Wait over there, please,” she spoke in a voice that was just as greige as her place of work.

You thanked her meekly and shuffled over to one of the worn, faux leather and hard plastic seats. The room smelled of cheap pine air fresheners and the potent combination of oil, and that specific rubber scent of brand new tires. The space with the front desk and the waiting area was small enough to be cramped if it was a busy day, but since you were the only visitor at the moment you didn’t have to be confronted by the full potential of such limited space. You toyed with your hands and tried to pay attention to the fuzzy television in one corner of the room, but you couldn’t help listening in on the receptionist’s call.

“…’s a girl here to talk to ya… uh-huh… yeah I know… uh, no I don’t think so. I doubt it. Her voice is different from the one that keeps calling about the Ford. Might be though... ‘Kay.”

You anxiously wiped your sweaty palms over your jeans as you heard the clunk of hard plastic settling back into its cradle. What if he didn’t remember you? What if he did, but didn’t care? What if he thought you were weird for showing up? What if he grew up to be someone who stomps on anthills?

Your head shot up at the sound of a door opening and then closing from the back, and a man in filthy coveralls approached the woman behind the desk. He had messy, curly bangs settled on his forehead and the rest of his long hair was in a low ponytail. He was sweaty and clearly exhausted as he wiped at his forehead and left a swipe of grease in his wake, speaking quietly to the receptionist before making his way over to you. The closer he got, the better you could smell the grease and sweat and bitter coffee, but it didn’t deter you. What truly threw you were the circles under his eyes and the sort of pale cast to his skin that people got when they were fatigued or ill. You weren’t sure why a part of you expected to see an eleven year old kid approach you with a god awful buzz cut and big brown eyes, even after fourteen years.

This was it. This was your moment. The time to reclaim your best friend, and have the greatest person you had ever met back into your life. Why was your throat suddenly so dry? You swallowed anxiously and then parted your lips to speak and-

“Miss, I know you’re waiting on your car to be fixed before the weekend—I promise I’m working as quickly as I can.”

You tried not to cringe at the use of “miss” and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes wondering why he didn’t see an almost ten year old girl with a messy braid in her hair that she did by herself, complaining at him to chew with his mouth closed.

“I lied,” You said bluntly and the man stared at you in a way that felt blank and still despite his wonderment.

“I-I don’t have a car here. I just wanted to talk to you.”

He eyed you curiously, his hands slowly wiping onto an old rag. It looked like it had been used so many times, you doubted it was even picking up any filth on his hands but just moving it around instead. He was clearly thrown off by the sentiment which brought a sort of youthfulness to his face in that moment of curiosity before his features hardened.

“Listen. I’m sure whatever prank you have conjured up is hilarious, but I’m tired and trying to do my job.”

“No-- no, no,” you tried to clarify, shooting up from your seat. “I—I-”

But he was already swiftly stomping away from you towards the back, muttering to the receptionist with a quick and surely rude comment about you on his way. You were moments from being politely asked to leave, you’re sure, but the woman hesitated with a gentle expression when she saw you approach her with glossy eyes.

“Could you please just give him this?” you asked in a soft voice that you did your best to keep even, but of course it wobbled just enough to be humiliating. You could feel the heat in your face and (even worse) the moisture in your eyes so you did your best to avoid eye contact.

You outstretched your arm and she met you halfway with a nod, allowing you to drop the old friendship bracelet into her palm.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #mechanic!eddie #bartender!eddie #bartender!eddie munson #angst #slow burn #slow burn eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #bsf!eddie munson #eddie munson angst #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson series

515 notes · View notes

audhd-nightwing · 1 year

Text

eddie munson is the type of boyfriend that brings you rocks, soda caps, acorns, wildflowers, bits of colorful glass, etc.

he’d run over to you with his hands clasped together to show you a bug he caught, or wave you over to come look at some animal skull he found

he’s also definitely the type of person to take in stray cats, feed the neighborhood raccoons, and have bird-feeders / a garden with pollinator plants

eddie is the type of boyfriend that gives you forehead kisses before he leaves, who runs his hands through your hair as you fall asleep, who gives you his leather jacket when you’re cold

he’d learn how to play your favorite song, take you stargazing, and bow to kiss your hand to make you blush

anyway, just thinkin about eddie being soft

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #boyfriend eddie munson #soft eddie munson #i usually don’t like x reader stuff but #he makes me so soft #i’m lov him #dating eddie munson #sfw only #eddie munson x reader #sorta #idk he’s just boyfriend

190 notes · View notes

scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

Text

In which Eddie panics a bit, Wayne is a voice of reason, and Steve is really going through it but finds some relief in Eddie bringing him lunch.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4 of the love spell no go au

Eddie does not, in fact, see Robin or Steve the next day. He holes up in his room for three days until Wayne drags him out by his ear, sits him down, and pries an explanation out of him because “do you know how many times that Harrington boy has called, knocked, and slid notes under the door trying to track you down? I’m surprised he hasn’t climbed in your damn window by now.”

He breaks and tells Wayne about the love spell and getting to know Steve. He walks his uncle through the entire strangled route of his logic and the thoughts he’s been stuck in his head with ever since the other day.

And, okay, the whole prom scenario had been a completely theoretical product of his overactive and dramatic imagination, but something like that might have happened. Except if Eddie, instead of fucking up, had somehow cast it really, really strong…

“That’s why he keeps calling, because of the spell,” Eddie concludes. “It makes sense, doesn’t it?” He desperately wants to hear that no, actually, he’s lost his marbles, no one can brute force a spell into being smart and biding it’s time like that.

But Wayne sighs, somehow conveying both endless patience and weary amusement, and says, “Eddie, what have I always told you?”

“Uh… never tell anyone that magic is real?”

Wayne snorts. “That, sure, and that magic ain’t ever something outta nothing. Your daddy always thought he could make gold from thin air, never even tried spinning it outta straw, and look where it landed him.” Jail. Eddie winces. “The reason no one bothers with love spells much is they gotta have some potential to grab onto, so they fail more’n you’d think. Spell or not, Ed, there was always something there.”

By the end of the conversation, Wayne has more or less managed to hammer in the idea that maybe all the spell had done was keep them apart until they fit better. Eddie retreats to his room again, this time to brainstorm how to make up for the abrupt three day radio silence.

Steve has had… a rough few days. If it hadn’t been for Wayne Munson assuring him that no, his nephew hadn’t disappeared like Will Byers or the Holland girl, just “got a bug up his ass about something and is still holed up in his room working on it,” he would have completely spiraled. As it was, he’d had trouble sleeping even before smoking through the last of his stash, on edge all the time, swimming laps at night because that feels better than doing nothing.

So when he looks up at the jingle of the bell over the door and sees Eddie slink into Family Video, he’s torn between relief and upset. If Eddie is fine, and very obviously not eaten by monsters or kidnapped to an alternate dimension, then where the hell has he been? Why hadn’t he returned any of the messages Steve had left him? Is the return to jock tendencies that off-putting?

His eyes catch on the bag and cardboard carrier Eddie is carrying, laden with three paper cups from the nearest diner. The warm greasy smell hits him, and it’s been a long few days of wanting to stress eat but not letting himself. Steve’s mouth fills with saliva—just because he hasn’t had his lunch break yet.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asks flatly, since there’s no one else in the store right now.

Eddie ducks his head. “Ye-eah, I deserve that.” He holds up the bag and drinks, tentatively meeting Steve’s gaze from under his bangs. “Brought you a peace offering?”

Steve breaths out sharply and runs a hand through his hair. He’d probably…Yeah, he’d probably been overthinking everything. Wound too tight, like Robin said. Not everything is a sign that the world is ending; Eddie had probably just been busy and knows that Steve is kind of needy, and brought him lunch as an apology.

God, it smells like his usual order from before Starcourt. And Eddie is here now, perfectly fine except for the shadows under his eyes. What does Eddie have to be so worried about?

Get it together, Harrington.

“Okay,” Steve says, not bothering to wonder if he can make whatever Eddie’s brought him fit into his diet—cheat days are a thing for a reason, right? “I’ll let Keith know I’m taking my break.”

Tilting his head to one side, Eddie is now close enough to set his offerings on the checkout counter. “No Robin today?”

“I wish. It’s her dad’s birthday, so she got roped into family stuff.”

“Hm.” He flicks at one of the straws poked through the top of the lid. “Looks like I brought one too many milkshakes then. Which is the more egregious sin, letting it go to waste or sharing it with Keith?”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “Second one. I’ll go punch out, meet me around back?”

A few minutes later they’re sitting across from each other at the table behind the little strip mall that houses Family Video and the arcade. It’s technically for anyone who works there, not just the video store, but it’s hot as balls out so there’s no competition for the spot. The first mouthful of milkshake is a welcome explosion of cold and rich chocolatey goodness in Steve’s mouth, and he hums approvingly. Holy shit, he’d forgotten how much he liked ice cream.

“How’m I doing on the apology?” Eddie asks, starting to pull foil-wrapped burgers out of the greasy bag.

“Pretty good, if one of those has cheese or bacon on it.” Steve accepts the one held out for him and unwrapping it to find both, and a second patty. He takes a big bite and hums in satisfaction, chewing for a moment and pleasantly aware that Eddie is watching him. As soon as his mouth is empty enough to speak, he says, “... Alright, you’re forgiven. Just answer your damn phone next time, man, okay? Let me know you’re still alive?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, looking guilty. “Yeah, sorry, I will.” He nudges a large fries across the table, followed by several packets of ketchup. Eddie hates ketchup on fries, because he’s some sort of heathen, but doesn’t so much as comment when Steve squirts all of the packets down one side of the container for himself. “Didn’t mean to make you worry about me, Stevie, I just… got in my head about something.”

Steve swallows a mixed bite of fries and burger, christ he’s hungry today. Must be the relief of knowing that Eddie is okay. “Anything I can help with?” he offers, because now that his ruffled feathers are soothed, he doesn’t like how tired his friend looks or the hint of melancholy that had flashed across his face at Steve’s requests. Eddie, who had looked at his bruises from Starcourt and visibly didn’t buy the government-concocted explanation for them but agreed not to ask, and thinks the source of his recent tension is from a few days of trauma rather than going on two years.

But also—Stevie? That’s new. Steve takes another big bite of his burger to hide how much the nickname makes him want to beam, that would be so weird given the current topic of conversation.

“Nah,” Eddie says. He mimes knocking his fist against one temple, other hand tapping the underneath of the table to make a wooden sound. “Got it worked out now. I’m good.”

“Well, good.” Despite himself, Steve grins around his next bite of burger. He swallows, snags Eddie’s milkshake (strawberry) and then Robin’s (vanilla), following with a sip from his own—a poor man’s Neapolitan. “Want to come over tonight and finish that movie?”

A surprised look crosses Eddie’s face at the offer, followed by something else that Steve can’t read, and then a small grin of his own. “Sure, if you don’t mind starting it over. I’ve kinda forgotten the beginning.”

Which is fine, because Robin had insisted on finishing it (“You know I don’t do well with cliffhangers, Steve. Do you want me to not be able to fall asleep tonight trying to guess what happens next? Do you?”) and Steve isn’t sure he remembers where they paused it last time anyway. He’s pleased as he finishes his burger, licking the grease from his fingers and grabbing a bunch of fries positively dripping with ketchup, hurriedly getting them in his mouth before any can drop on his work clothes. Feels even better when Eddie chuckles and reaches across the table to wipe a smear of the condiment that had dripped down the side of his chin, almost making it to his work vest. The contact is nice, makes his heart beat faster.

It doesn’t have to mean anything, but he wants it to.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8

Part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#love spell no go au #wg steddie #scoops words #steve harrington #eddie munson #good uncle wayne #feeder eddie munson #i don't even think he realizes what he's doing he just wants steve to have a nice lunch #the extra milkshake really was a coincidence but of course steve finishes it #and most of eddie's too lbr #goes back to work with a little more pep in his step that has nothing to do with the eating purely to fuel his body he's been doing lately #does he learn anything from this? no he does not #but he's got a lot on his mind

49 notes · View notes

marvelmaniac2000 · 2 years

Text

II Movie Goers II

Summary: Eddie flirting and hitting on you at your job...

Characters: Eddie Munson x fem! Reader, Steve Harrington

Subject: Pure Fluff, mentions of sex, flirting,

*****Sorry for any Misspelling/Grammar****

Side notes: I’m starting to realize the more that I write smuts about Eddie and rewatch stranger things again, I’ve realized that he's super sweet and probably do more softcore sex and affection even tho ya this writer like that hardcore smut material ….

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

“So tomorrow I think I’m going to go ahead and just tell her how I feel you know? What good does it do dating someone that I really don’t see myself long term?” Steve kept rambling on about his lame relationship with you. This was his third girlfriend this week and he doesn’t seem to understand the concept of being “single” for once in his life.

You collect all the movie tapes from the drop-off cubby hole and proceed to check them into the computer system. “You truly want to know what I think Harrington? I think you should take a break. Smell the fresh air and dead roses laying around Hawkins” you press a couple of keys on the computer screen.

“That doesn’t make any sense…I know how to be alone, I know myself” he trailed off his sentence rethinking the statement out loud.

“Aha” you pointed at him to prove your point. “Bingo I’m right again. I’m not saying you shouldn’t date other girls Harrington, all I’m suggesting..keyword suggesting that you try to understand a little bit more about yourself and also know why you can’t stop being a man whore” you shook your head.

The front door bell jingle to greet another customer in. “Well look who the devil dragged in” Steve looked at Eddie up and down examining this rare sight.

“I know walking in the midst of you bottom feeders isn’t my forte but I like to catch some flics every now and again” his dark hair frame between him and his long fingers carefully rested on the counter.

“Well, what title are you looking for?” Steve noticed Eddie’s eyes glued to you with your back still turned to him.

“I’ve seen this movie about a thousand times and I just can’t seem to forget how amazing it was” he tilted his chin over to your direction. “Ahh I see” Steve turned and called out your name.

You turn and freeze up seeing an all-familiar face. “This lovely customer needs your assistance” Steve joked before patting you on the shoulder and left you two alone at the counter.

“You look even better in uniform...” Eddie rested his chin on his palm soaking in your features.

“Thank you, did you really come to check out a movie?” you pulled on your vest trying to seem cool.

“Nawh not really I hope maybe you can help me with that. I heard you’re the guru of all movies” you pierced your lips together to hide your smile from him.

“Well I don’t like to brag but I know some good material, have you seen sixteen candles yet?”

“I have actually, you’ll be surprised what type of movies I like watching, sometimes romance is what the heart desires or need” he reached over the counter and took the pencil out of the can next to you. .

“You got a piece of paper (y/n)?” You reach below the counter and handed him a piece of notebook paper.

“I really like you and I want to take you out sometime …sooo” he wrote a number down and slide it back over to you.

“Call me” his voice sounded like sex to your ears hearing him speak your name.

“It’s up to you, If not no hard feelings against the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins” he picked up your hand and place a kiss on it.

“I’ll see you later” he backed away and stopped midway through the door. “Oh, by the way, happy sixteenth birthday” he smirked before leaving out the door.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #writing #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #netflix

306 notes · View notes

darkrpfinder · 5 months

Note

🕊️ hello! 28 she/her, looking for an rp partner for some dark themes/smut with an around 70/30 to 60/40 smut to plot ratio (i love a good plot). i do not roleplay with minors. 25+ partners are preferred. themes i'm interested in writing include:

noncon, degradation, dirty talk (filthier the better), legal age gaps, cheating/blackmail, omegaverse, horror, enemies to lovers/enemies with benefits, object insertion, cnc/dub con, daddy kinks, breeding, bdsm

hard limits: scat, vore, any other bathroom kinks, feet, feeding/feeder

i'm open to mxm, mxf, and fxf ships, with a strong preference to playing characters who are bottoms/submissives. i'm open to both fandom and original universe roleplays, with some of my favorite genres being fantasy, crime, supernatural, and historical (french revolution, victorian, ancient eras (vikings, ancient greek, etc.) being some of my favorite).

fandoms/ships i'd love to roleplay include (i've bolded the characters i'd love to play, characters ordered as top dominant/bottom submissive):

ekko x jinx (arcane/league of legends)

sevika x jinx (arcane/league of legends)

silco x jinx (arcane/league of legends)

yelena belova x kate bishop (marvel)

eddie brock/venom x felicia hardy (marvel)

kraven the hunter x felicia hardy (marvel)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham (stranger things)

eros x psyche (greek mythology)

dionsus x ariadne (greek mythology)

thanatos x minthe (greek mythology)

achilles x patroclus x briseis (the illiad)

misc fandoms (no set canons, though i'd love ocs): hunger games, the grisha universe, the acotar fandom, star wars, the last of us

plots i'd love to do:

your character is a wealthy patron of the parisian opera, who has elected to sponsor a soloist of the parisian opera. are they wealthy? are they secretly a criminal mastermind? either way, she's indebted to do whatever he wants

your character is a supernatural creature who kidnapped my character, but my character escaped. they're now stuck in a cat and mouse chase

vague ideas that i'd love to explore but can't think of a specific plot for: a/b/o verse anything (i'd would love to play an omega character, especially for an mxf or fxf plot), plots involving the hunger games (perhaps two former victors, or a victor and a capitol citizen), anything involving the assassin's creed fandom (perhaps a templar/assassin ship?), enemies to lovers, anything with criminal characters, etc.

faces i love using: cindy mello, lorena rae, ashley moore, archie renaux, golshifteh farahani, christina nadin, rachel zegler, chantel jeffries, kelly gale, madison beer, braydee cardinal, yovanna ventura, holly lim, shonali singh, josie canseco, madelyn cline, savio de chiara, grace van dien, rocio crusset

faces i love playing against: barry keoghan, stephen james, winston duke, florian montaneau, giuseppe maggio, patrick gibson, theo james, dev patel, andy biersack, richard madden, max irons, reece king, ben dahlhaus, folkwin wolfspeer, cillian murphy, jack o'connell, post malone, dichen lachman, sydney sweeney, honestly any and all faces i'm open to.

i range from large posts to small posts, and would love to do this via discord. maybe even make a server for us to write in! please like this post and i'll reach out. (sorry this is so long, i've never written one of these before and thought to cover as many bases as possible).

#arcane rp #marvel rp #omegaverse rp #stranger things rp #the illiad rp #hunger games rp #the grisha universe rp #acotar rp #star wars rp #the last of us rp #assassin's creed rp #rp search #dark roleplay #dark rp #spicy rp #18+ mun

11 notes · View notes

prpfs · 5 months

Note

🕊️ ♡ hello! 28 she/her, looking for a discord rp partner for some dark themes/smut with an around 70/30 to 60/40 smut to plot ratio (i love a good plot, but i'm also trying to do other stuff). i do not roleplay with minors. 25+ partners are preferred. themes i'm interested in writing include:

hard limits: scat, vore, any other bathroom kinks, feet, feeding/feeder

fandoms/ships i'd love to roleplay include (i've bolded the characters i'd love to play, characters ordered as top dominant/bottom submissive):

ekko x jinx (arcane/league of legends)

sevika x jinx (arcane/league of legends)

silco x jinx (arcane/league of legends)

yelena belova x kate bishop (marvel)

eddie brock/venom x felicia hardy (marvel)

kraven the hunter x felicia hardy (marvel)

eddie munson x chrissy cunningham (stranger things)

eros x psyche (greek mythology)

dionsus x ariadne (greek mythology)

thanatos x minthe (greek mythology)

achilles x patroclus x briseis (the illiad)

misc fandoms (no set canons, though i'd love ocs): hunger games, the grisha universe, the acotar fandom, star wars, the last of us

plots i'd love to do:

your character is a supernatural creature who kidnapped my character, but my character escaped. they're now stuck in a cat and mouse chase

like if you're interested and anon will get back to you

#arcane rp #league of legends rp #marvel rp #stranger things rp #greek myth rp #the illiad rp #fandom rp #fandom roleplay #dead dove

5 notes · View notes

hotluncheddie · 12 days

Text

Day 6: Bondage

"Like it"

Ao3

wc: 2k | rated: E | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, rimming, pleasure dom Steve Harrington, chubby Eddie Munson, feederism kinks, public foreplay, humiliation kink

written for @subeddieweek <3

💝💝💝💝💝

‘Ugh’ Eddie groans, rubbing his stomach as much as he can with his wrists tied.

Sleepy and satiated, he’s bound together with his own bandana.

Steve’s eyes had been gleeful as he did it, as if he’d just come up with the idea, and thought it was his best one yet. Eddie had gulped, presenting his wrists and squirming as the fabric wrapped around him.

But he was used to it now. Forearms managing to massage the new chub at his stomach, doughy and close to kissing his thicker thighs. His body showing all the signs of their new relationship. Something passing between them after the upside down. Once they were safe and comfortable they just seemed to melt together. Showing each other the freedom to explore things they never thought possible.

Eddie was allowed, for the first time in his life, to indulge.

He let go in ways he never dreamed possible; because he’d never had the means, or was too afraid, or both.

And Steve, Steve’s always wanted to give. He’d give so much that it scares people away. Eddie knows now, that Steve wants to give everything and it’s okay, okay that Eddie wants it all.

They’re driving back from the diner two towns over. It has bigger portions and the best burgers around. Eddie ate one loaded with cheese and bacon, with a side of fries. And onion rings. Steve ordering for him, foot brushing Eddie’s shin as he did. Knowing it made Eddie blush, a little embarrassed, to be looked after so openly, to allow Steve that decision. It made Eddie’s mind melt.

‘Undo your button, I wanna see.’ Steve says, glancing away from the empty road. Eddie does, a little awkwardly, but sighs with relief once he manages. Fingers soothing the underside of pale stomach that was trapped against the denim.

But Eddie’s pulled from his petting as the car lurches to the right, Steve turning off. Pulling into a drive through.

Eddie’s eye go wide and his cheeks go pink realising whoever’s at the widow is going to see his belly peaking out between the flaps of his jeans. Cheeks going pinker realising Steve wants him to eat more.

‘Steve?’ He asks weakly.

‘What?’ Steve asks, vaguely, not looking at his face. Instead he, suddenly, he pulls at eddies seatbelt, hard. So it’s tight and sat beneath his belly, constricting and biting.

Eddie gasps at the feeling, the stiff fabric against his soft middle.

‘Steve?’ Eddie presses. You can’t see his pants are undone anymore but there’s cool air hitting a now exposed sliver skin as his shirt lifts, jostled by the movement.

But Steve ignores him. Rolling through to the speaker he orders a milkshake and donut. Doesn’t spare Eddie a glance. Eddie squirms.

‘Steve.’ He hisses, they’ll be pulling up to the window soon. Eddie tries to shift but the belt stops him. Moving does nothing but shift his shirt until it threatens to expose his bellybutton. ‘Steve please.’

Steve stops the car with a jolt, just before they get to the window. ‘Tell me right now, honestly, that you’re not into this.’ He says, eyes locked with Eddie’s.

Eddies are wide, sticky pleasure churning in his gut.

He doesn’t say a thing.

Steves smile blooms again, sunny but sharp. ‘Lift your arms up.’ He says.

Eddie balks, but does. Feeling hot all over with a blush running down his chest as he lets his bound wrists lay on the top of the headrest.

‘Good.’ Steve says low, rolling the car forwards. ‘You’re cute when you squirm.. Hi.’ He turns to smile sweetly at the drive-thru worker.

As they wait for her, Steve looks over at Eddie again. Eye roaming the straps across his body, that sit into his flesh.

Eddie glares at him.

Steve pouts back. ‘You said I could do whatever I wanted.’ And his voice has that bratty little whine to it that always sends Eddie insane. Steve too juxtaposing, too confusing, too in control of Eddie to be allowed to pout like that.

Steve knows it too, knows Eddies annoyed, embarrassed flush. He cocks his eyebrow and gives Eddie a wink.

Eddie bites his lip and looks resolutely out the window, as Steve chats idly with the worker, hands over cash and puts a large, dripping milkshakes in the cup holder.

Steve messes with putting the donuts in the footwell. But Eddie thought they were done and he makes the mistake of looking over, Steve ducked down, the girl at the window looking right at him. A perfect view of Eddie’s stomach pushing against the belt, pale skin and dark hair. Eddie nudges Steve by his knee, desperate, humiliated.

Steve sits back normally. ‘Thanks.’ He smiles at the worker again. She smiles back, glancing at Eddie. Eddie shifts, his cock hard and straining in his jeans.

Steve parks near the exit and gets a donut out of the bag, holding it up to Eddie’s lips. Eddie scowls at it. But Steve just gives him his best puppy dog eyes - the same ones Eddie gives him. ‘Please?’ He teases.

Eddie rolls his eyes, fighting down his smile ‘Fine.’ And he tries to sound annoyed, opening his mouth and taking a bite, but his voice sounds too breathy, and affected.

‘We’ve still got about 30 till we’re home okay?’ Steve says softly, feeding Eddie another bite. Eddie nods, cheeks full, the donut’s really good.

Steve strokes Eddie’s cheek, loosening Eddie’s belt and letting him suck the cream from his thumb. ‘You like this.’ Steve says.

It’s never a question, just a statement.

The first time he’d said it, they’d only been together a couple weeks. Eddie still so tentative and fresh faced to any kind of relationship that meant more than a little spit and quick hands. Steve agreeing to keep it between them until he was ready

That day Steve had been getting shit from the kids for baking again, for being completely serious when he mentioned that this recipe was from a high school home ec class. Rightfully unembarrassed as he looked down his nose at Mikes sneer. ‘Everyone has to eat kid.’ He’d said, rolling his eyes and putting the oven mitts away.

None of the kids had clocked yet what might’ve started him baking more regularly, or that he made sure to always offer Eddie some specifically, always gifting him something sweet to take home. Doting on him more noticeably in these past couple weeks than ever before - even with them around. The only person who did notice the change was Robin. With her sharp eyes and poking smile. But Steve seemed to take any of her looks in his stride, like it was all just normal, could be normal.

But Eddie was basking in it, even as the anxiety of what they might all think still sat heavy in the back of his mind. Steve made it easier, Steve made him feel safe.

And once they’d all gone home, once it was just him and Eddie again, that evening, Steve stepped it up.

He made Eddie stay sitting on the sofa, told him not to move and straddled Eddies thighs, kissing him breathless. Eddie settling into that feeling that was becoming normal, routine - of letting Steve lead. Breath hitching as Steve laced their fingers together and pushed Eddie’s wandering hands away, told to keep them at his sides. Held and directed so softly that Eddie just sucked on Steve’s bottom lip and let his mind go blank.

Until Steve pulled away, hand on Eddie chest. Holding him, and offering Eddie a cookie to bite from his own fingers. Hand feeding it to him sweetly.

Still doting. But now, Steves eyes were dark.

Eddie couldn’t count how many cookies he’d already had. One of those days where he was insatiable, a bottomless pit, always wanting, and Steve had made so many, no one even noticed.

Except, maybe Steve noticed. The way he looked at Eddie now, leaning right into his space, cookie held just out of reach. Steve’s other hand slipping up under Eddie’s shirt, big palm swallowing his abdomen, warm and solid and claiming. Steve noticed everything.

And Eddie just whined, pushing his stomach more into Steve’s hand, letting his lips fall open and eyes go blurry as his pupils bloomed. Steve smiling at him, indulging, feeding Eddie the cookie bite by big bite, slipping his fingers inside for Eddie to suck.

‘You like this.’ Steve said, then, and Eddie nodded, too afraid to explain that it was everything, all of it, more.

Eddie liked it. Liked it especially, from Steve.

‘Oh fuck.’ Eddie moans.

They’re back at Steve’s house. Eddie laid out on the bed, pillows under his head so he can take periodic sips of the milkshake Steve forced on him. Legs spread wide open and bound with thick ribbon around his shins and thighs, keeping his knees bent. Bandanna still tight around his wrists. Exposed, totally on display.

Harder than he’s ever been in his life.

‘Fucking love you like this.’ Steve pants, lips glistening as he sits back on his heels, slapping the inside of Eddie’s thigh, watching it jiggle. ‘You’re so soft now, it’s like eating out a girl.’ And Eddie’s eyes roll in his head, cock dripping onto his stomach.

Steve dives back down, sucking and licking at Eddie’s hole. Sometimes working his way over Eddie’s balls but never touching his cock for more than a second, never more than to give the length a wet, open mouthed kiss.

Eddie writhes, the milkshake cold on his tongue, barely able to move he’s so tightly bound, completely at Steve’s mercy.

‘That’s it, wanna hear you.’ Steve says, palming himself, getting off on Eddie’s whimpers and groans, pushing him until he’s brainless and blissed out.

Eddie whines, he can barely see he’s so far gone.

'm- 'm gonna’ Eddie manages, finishing his milkshake and letting it slip from his fingers. Hands going to fist the sheets above him, back arching off the bed.

‘That’s it baby, cum for me.’ Steve says, muffled, face still buried in Eddies ass.

Steve reaches an arm around, holding Eddie’s hips down firm. hand coming to stroke his cock once, twice.

The air punches out of Eddie’s lungs in a long, drawn out moan. Thrusting up against Steve’s strong grip, cum spilling all over his pink flushed skin.

Steve holds him tighter, hand circling his cock more firmly, base to tip. Fisting him hard and fast. ‘Oh, oh fuck!’ Eddie can’t think, can’t move and can’t breath. Steve slips two fingers in his spit loose hole, thrusting in and up and Eddie wails.

‘Again. you’re gonna cum for me again.’ Steve insists, voice rough, lips and chin wet with spit. He thrusts harder, pushes in deeper. Eddie feels static in his ears, feels him stomach muscles jump and his thighs clench against the binds. Not given the chance to come down, just taken up, up, higher and higher until he’s falling all over again. Tipping over the edge because of Steve, all for Steve, all over himself.

‘Fuck, fuck.’ Steve pants, standing and shoving his boxers down, gripping his cock fast and hard. Crowding into Eddie’s space and leaning between his spread thighs to lick at Eddie’s open mouth.

Eddie can’t do anything more than whine and buck sleepily as he feels Steve release all over him. Hot and spent and Eddie licks into Steve’s mouth, tasting himself and groaning as Steve licks back, sharing his air.

Steve rests their foreheads together, breathing turning normal, and then rises up to pull at Eddie’s wrists - undoing the bandanna. He uses it to wipe away some of the mess across Eddie’s middle.

tossing it aside, Steves fingers dance over Eddie’s still bound thighs, eyes making their way slowly back up to Eddie face. ‘You liked it?’ Steve asks, smiling down at him, eyes sleepy and relaxes.

He’s beautiful, Eddie thinks.

He leans into Steves touch, nodding and diverting Steve’s hands over to his belly, giving his best puppy dog eyes. ‘Like you.’ Eddie pouts and Steve lets Eddie move him, laughing lightly. Hands roaming over his stomach and doughy sides. Petting and rubbing as he undoes the binds around Eddie’s legs, massaging there too.

Eddie’s eyes slip close sleepily as Steve works and presses kisses all over. Until he reaches Eddie’s neck and face, where Steve feeds his thumb into Eddie’s mouth, watching his eyes flutter back open. ‘My good boy.’ He whispers and Eddie kisses him.

💝💝💝💝💝

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#going niche with the kinks today sorry lads #understand if anyone doesn't want to read #but i know one person will like it so the rest is gravy :)#steddie #hotlunch #steve x eddie #steddie fic #my fic #chubby eddie munson #steddie wg #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #it has been a LONG day #im TIRED #<3

62 notes · View notes

scoops-aboy86 · 16 days

Note

chubby Steve fic idea:

Eddie and Steve take the kids to a fair and Steve gets excited for all the treats.

Thank you thank you thank you for this, because I've been struggling to figure out what I wanted to do with the final installment of the love spell AU fic and this has finally kicked my ass into gear. I'm still working on it, but here's a teaser... Just shy of 1k words.

(If anyone wants to be added to the tag list for when I post the complete chapter, comment here to let me know. 😊)

The kids have been clamoring to go to the county fair, so when August rolls around they load everyone up in Eddie’s van and the Wheeler’s station wagon and head out of town to the Roane County Fairgrounds.

Steve meets them there, because he’s picked up some work helping with the rides set-up and has been at the fairgrounds since ass o’clock in the morning. Which conveniently means they’ll also have the BMW there at the end of the day, and Robin—who Steve has made a point of helping get her license—can drive it back with the kids.

It also means that Steve gets to see his boyfriend’s eyes go wide when Eddie sees him for the first time today, takes in the way his shirt clings to his broad chest, dark with sweat down the front from the exertion of lifting and carrying all morning and cut down into a muscle tee at the sides, scars be damned. And unlike Eddie, who looks like he’s starting to pink under the sun already, Steve has been building up a healthy tan all summer parked out by the pool whenever he has down time; plenty of skin and new freckles to show off.

The kids are at the head of the pack, so they don’t notice Robin elbowing Eddie until his mouth snaps shut and he raises hand to rub faux casually at his mouth before shooting her a betrayed look—and Steve just knows that Robin told him to stop drooling in public.

Then Dustin slams in for a hug, catching Steve in the doughy middle and just about winding him. He gives an over-exaggerated wheeze and pretends to stagger. The motion helps him get Dustin into noogie, and from there the rising sophomore doesn’t stand a chance against all the muscle he still has from his jock days, regardless of the extra padding over them now.

“Yield, I yield!” Dustin yelps.

(“Why are they doing that?” El whispers loudly down to Max in her wheelchair.

“It’s a dumb brother bonding activity,” Max informs her with a roll of her eyes. “Just observe, like animals at the zoo.”

El continues watching them with a perplexed furrow between her brows. “Will and Jonathan don’t do this.”

“That’s because they were raised by Joyce Byers. They’re slightly more evolved than your average teenage boy.”)

“Butthead,” Steve chuckles as he lets Dustin go. “Okay, I’ve got ride tickets to hand out. Once you use these up, if you want more you have to buy your own. Got it?”

There’s a chorus to the effect of yes Steve, with varying amounts of eye-roll. Robin and Eddie have caught up by now, the latter circling around closer to him while he dolls out strips of tickets. A lively debate springs up almost immediately between Dustin, Mike, and Lucas over how to best maximize their haul, with Will patiently moderating every three-way tie to more subtly inject his own opinions into the discussion. Max gleefully heckles them about every ride that she can’t go on, with her legs still in casts and arms in braces, digging in with pithy little guilt trips that, as far as Steve can tell, aren’t crossing the line into actual upset or self-pity territory. (Something to keep an eye on.)

He’s glad they’re excited about the rides, and even the games that will definitely end up cutting into their pocket money by the time the day is done. But Steve is excited for something else entirely, and is antsy to get the show on the road.

“Alright, that’s everybody. Now why don’t you all go enjoy the fair I’ve been slaving over, you little assholes. The Gravatron in particular is sick.”

That does the trick of getting rid of most of the crowd, El and Max break off in a slightly different direction, probably towards the Ferris wheel that El’s been practically vibrating to ride ever since someone explained what one was, having already settled a time and place to meet up with the rest of the group later.

Robin takes her tickets with a bright thank you thank you thank you because she’s meeting up with Vickie soon for their first official date. She’s about to run off when Eddie stops her and hands over all but four of the tickets Steve had just given him. “Go knock her socks off, Robbie,” he says, and then messes up her hair.

She flips him off, and Steve too when he snickers a, “Be safe, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” before flitting off. Telling him with her expression and a dynamic eyebrow movement that she doesn’t think it would be a high bar to clear. Which… fair, honestly.

“And then there were two,” Eddie says, sidling up to Steve a grin and a raking glance that sends a trickle of anticipatory heat down his spine. “You ready, sweetheart?”

Before Steve can answer, his stomach does it for him with an audible grumble—not the first he’s experienced while working today, but definitely the loudest. He automatically rests a hand over it, kneading in a gentle massage to calm it down the way he’s been doing for a while, though it doesn’t seem to be helping now that he knows it’s time.

“Sounds like a yes to me,” Eddie murmurs, long lashes dipping as his eyes go subtly darker, then waves dramatically ahead. “Well, what are we waiting for, my liege? Let us partake of the festivities that await!”

He marches off, leaving Steve to follow with a laugh and shake of his head, utterly charmed by his total nerd of a boyfriend who is about to take very good care of him.

Tag list: @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth @zombiethingy

#wg steddie #love spell no go au #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #this is just the set-up really so it absolutely is a tease #but as i have not written the rest yet #and don't want this ask to languish in my inbox forever...#scoops words

20 notes · View notes