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hotluncheddie · 2 months

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‘I just don’t get it.’ Steve says, slamming the apartment door, pouting.

He throws his keys down on the counter in a huff. Untucking his polo from his skin tight ‘date jeans’ and rubbing his fingers soothingly over the little indents they’re leaving on his belly.

Eddie and Robin are splayed out on the couch, air hazy with smoke and a half eaten pizza on the coffee table. ‘What babe?’ Robin asks, lifting her arms up and making grabby hands at Steve.

He slumps over and falls into her side, snuggling into her shoulder and taking a puff form the joint she holds to his lips. ‘I though coming out as bi would mean I’d go on nice dates, like I used to take girls on. But people would take me on them instead, guys or girls.’ He explains, taking another hit.

‘Ah. Brian wasn’t the one?’ Robin asks. Putting the joint back in her mouth and tucking Steve closer under her arm.

‘No.’ Steve pouts. ‘He was lame and he got all weird when I ordered pie. Which, like, we met at the bar, he knows what I look like, it’s not surprising that I ordered pie. Then he started yapping about his jogging routine.’ Steve rolls his eyes, undoing the fly of his jeans so he can kick them off and get comfy on the couch, like he always does, ‘date jeans’ are way too constricting for high pizza time. ‘Like one, bold of him to assume I don’t jog when I do, like, when I feel like it. And two, the pie was really good! I even offered him a bite and he didn’t even accept it! Rude!’

‘So rude.’ Robin pets at Steve’s head.

Eddie unsticks himself from the sofa to get another slice of pizza and pass one over to Steve in consolidation. Nodding along to what Steve is saying as it passes through the soup of his brain.

‘Like I know people like to sleep around and that’s fun and all but why are they so bad at dating?’ He pulls another deep drag of the joint Robin holds for him, chewing a bite of pizza as smoke billows out between his lips. ‘Why does no one want a cute fat boyfriend with great hair? Why do they just see me as a piece of ass?’ He whines, the weed hitting him now.

‘Because your ass is great babe.’ Robin says, stealing a chunk of his crust. ‘Top tier ass.’

He looks up at her with big eyes ‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’ She smiles at him, pinching his cheek

‘I want a cute fat boyfriend.’ Eddie sighs, from the other end of the couch. eyes glazed over staring at the muted tv screen, his slice of pizza held untouched in his hand. ‘I’d take him out on nice dates, brush his hair and help him try on pretty clothes. I could kiss his chubby cheeks and cuddle him and call him sweet names..’ He sighs again, finally taking a bite.

‘You know Eddie, Stevie here on the couch is single.’ Robin says, getting up to go to the kitchen. Leaving the joint in Steve’s mouth.

Eddie looks at her go. Blinks hard a couple times and looks at Steve. Sprawled out on the couch cushions, belly peaking out of his shirt. His lovely roommate Steve. Cute and fat and silly hot. ‘Maybe I even want to hold his hand as we take a little walk. Maybe I want to take care of him and spoil him and make him feel like the world spins around him. He could get fatter, if he wanted, because i lo-like him so much.' Eddie continues. Confesses. Eyes wide and heart racing.

Steve’s cheeks are pink, eyes glassy and pretty. ‘Me?’ Steve points at himself, joint between his long fingers, looking at Eddie, looking all over his face.

‘Yeah.’ he breaths. Matching the dopey smile that spreads over Steve’s face, besotted and beaming.

me and @scoops-aboy86 were talking about this post. so now you all have to read the silliness too xoxo

Tag list (open): @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor

#hotlunch #drabble #chubby steve harrington #idiot4idiot #my new fave #steddie #hope ur day brightens partner *tips cowboy hat*#steddie wg #stobin soulmates

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theclandestineclementine · 2 years

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In honor of my watching the lord of the rings for the first time since childhood...

Eddie finds out one night, when they're laying together in the darkness of the room, tangled in sheets, in the afterglow of one another, that Steve has never read The Lord of the Rings.

"Reading was always hard for me, words would I dunno, wiggle around when i tried to read them, letters would rearrange themselves." He admitted to Eddie in the safeness of the dark.

"Steve, are you dyslexic?" Eddie asks in surprise.

If the lights were on Eddie knew he'd see Steve blushing.

"I dont know, never knew there was a name for it." Steve shrugged.

Eddie reached a pudgy hand over to Steve's face, cupping it softly, "nothing wrong with that, or with you."

Eddie could feel Steve's smile raise his cheek up under his hand and Steve turned his head to kiss Eddie's palm.

...

That was almost a week ago, neither of them had brought it up since.

But after another night of Steve's amazing cooking and baking, Eddie fit to bursting laying out on the couch, his soft plump belly hanging out from under his old favorite shirt.

Steve is standing in the doorway smiling at him sweetly, just adoring the new weight on Eddie's frame, the plushness to his chest, softness in his arms, thickness in his thighs, and god his belly and his ass, Steve could spend days, weeks worshiping both.

Eddie eyes him with a grin, "c'mere Stevie." He practically purred holding his arms up and beckoning Steve who promptly arrived at his side.

"Wanting a belly rub?" Steve asked with a little smile. He knew that belly rubs after a big meal always helped Eddie relax.

"Nah, just," Eddie's wrists went limp in a half wave, gesturing to Steve to come cuddle.

Steve smiled and climbed onto the couch.

"Get comfy." Eddie murmured as he stretched his long frame out, arms reaching over the arm of the couch.

Steve wriggled around until his face was right at the upper curve of Eddie's belly. Easiest spot and proximity to kiss Eddie's face and his belly. His hands began to gingerly drove around Eddie's soft stomach when Eddie wiggled a bit. Hand reaching up and carding through Steve's hair.

Steve's eyes closed lazily when Eddie began to speak, "When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton."

Steve looked up to see that Eddie's other hand was occupied by holding a worn copy of a book.

"Bilbo was very rich and very peculiar, and had been the wonder of the Shire for sixty years, ever since his remarkable disappearance and unexpected return."

Eddie broke his gaze with the book for a second and glanced at Steve to see his curious expression.

Eddie blushed, "I just wanted to share something I love with the person I love. So I wanted to read you Lord of the Rings, is that okay?"

Steve smiled so broadly it made his cheeks hurt.

In answer to Eddie's question he leaned up and kissed his lips long and lingering, until he no longer had breath.

He broke from eddie with a soft sigh, then shifted to where he was once again resting his head on the bulging softness of Eddie's torso, one hand running along Eddie's soft fat belly, fingertips tracing the stretch marks there, pressing into the plushness as eddie continued to read late into the night.

#fat eddie munson #chaser steve harrington #steddie wg #soft feedism #belly kisses #belly cuddles

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sweetrollsandmuffintops · 2 years

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Using this screencap to push my feedist agenda😈😈

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #wg #weight gain #tummy kink #CHUBBY STEVE HARRINGTON #Feedee Steve #feedisim

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wh0lemilk0vich · 1 year

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Things I like to write

FANTASY GENRE CROSSOVERS (folklore, monsters, Witcherverse, Grishaverse, HP, Magicians, GoT, HotD, etc)

Genre scenarios (john Hughes highschool stuff, slice of life, horror, etc)

Anything general chubby kink

Fat characters finding love

Fat characters feeling valued and sexy and appreciated

All over weight gain (not necessarily active gaining)

Unintentional/ambivalent wg

Weight gain as feminization

Size/body type contrast

Soft/curvy/plush fat cis male and transfem hc characters

Bullying/mild degradation scenes

BDSM (force feeding, bondage, Brat taming, rough play)

Gallavich, Steddie, Steddilly, Aegond, Qwelliot

Fat Mickey Milkovich+++++

Fat Steve Harrington+++++

Fat Eddie Munson++++

Fat Aegon II Targaryen+++++

Dom chaser/admirer Ian Gallagher/Aemond Targaryen/Billy Hargrove

Things I don't particularly like to write

Belly-centric weight gain

Active/intentional wg

Hard, round, ball, taut wg

Mpreg

A/B/O

Overly soft, sweet, saccharine scenarios (care taking, belly rubs, etc)

WG as masculinity, overly masculine fat characters

Mutual wg

Descriptions of fat characters or their actions being disgusting (i like degradation but in other ways)

Messy eating, slob, anything unhygienic

Transfem!Chubby!Stevie

The start of it all

Diner AU

Wardrobe Malfunction (Diner AU)

Help Me with my Apron (Diner AU)

First Bikini

If you want to float stuff by me to gauge, or ask about something for clarification, that's totally fine. I encourage it. I just kind of want to write more of what i like to write and encourage interaction about what i like to write 🥺

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

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Rockstar Eddie Munson taking his husband Steve on a tour of Europe. They’re well past their Upside Down days, both starting to go a little gray. Eddie has his wild stage antics to stay in shape for, but Steve with his school counselor desk job has softened considerably over the years.

During their stop in London, Eddie brings Steve to the Ritz and treats him to an extravagant afternoon tea. The next table over seems to be doing the exact same thing, a tall and wiry man with red hair and sunglasses passing little plate after little plate to a rather more portly fellow with white-blond curls who every now and then gives happy little sighs and pleased little wiggles, just like Steve.

“Eds, can you pass me more of those round pastry things?” Steve asks, reeling Eddie’s attention back in to focus on how content his sweetheart looks, trying a little bit of everything to start and then moving systematically through the rest in order of alright to favorite. He looks, Eddie thinks, only a few minutes from surreptitiously unbuttoning his pants and untucking his shirt, prepared to leave it that way for the long haul and probably all the way back to the hotel.

“Of course, angel,” Eddie replies, reaching easily for the requested dish.

He doesn’t notice Sunglasses at the next table looking over with a raised eyebrow, suspicious at first but then softening into a huff of amusement at who knows what. Or the little wave of the man’s hand, a few extra plates appearing on both his and Steve and Eddie’s table. Or the blond man smiling beatifically with a honeyed, “Oh Crowley, you old sap.”

#wg steddie #chubby steve harrington #feeder eddie munson #rock star eddie munson #surprise! it’s a cute little good omens crossover!#scoops words

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

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More of the love spell no go au, because of course I did. This one is a little more bittersweet, because it covers the start of Steve's reaction to both the Russian torture and creeping dread that the Upside Down stuff will keep coming back.

He and Eddie are still close! But Steve is about to make some reluctant choices about his eating and activity habits, because he views it as his duty to help keep everyone he cares about safe.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2

The day Eddie walks up to Scoops Ahoy and it’s still shuttered, he immediately knows that something is wrong. He has Steve’s schedule memorized, and even if he’d called out Robin would still be here. Uneasy, he goes back out to the parking lot and tries casting a locator spell in his van, sweat dripping into his eyes because the AC is still on the fritz.

According to the spell, Steve is miles below the mall. That can’t be right. And usually when Eddie’s magic is a flop he keeps getting different wrong answers, like a math problem that you know you’re forgetting a step somewhere but can’t figure out what it is no matter how many times you do it over. This is consistent: below the mall. Or, below the mall and shifting gradually towards the left at a reasonable walking pace.

It’s so weird that Eddie speeds home and wakes Uncle Wayne, which is usually something he avoids doing but this feels important. Wayne helps him with the spell, but the result is still the same. All Wayne can do is shrug and tell Eddie to trust his intuition when it comes to magic, because making it work through the earth like that can be tricky but Eddie must have at least been casting strong to get such consistent results, and goes back to bed.

Eddie’s confidence in his magic has frankly been shattered ever since the love spell backfired, and he’s actually woefully out of practice for that exact reason. But he drives to approximately directly above where Steve is (a field maybe a mile or two from the mall) and starts casting whatever protection spells he can think of. One of them might only protect Steve from getting cavities, or it might prevent the loss of entire teeth and/or finger and toe nails. He’s not sure. But hey, the dude works in an ice cream shop, better safe than sorry right?

The downside of being so out of practice is that Eddie wears himself out. He keeps at it for most of Wednesday night and Thursday morning, but passes out around afternoon and wakes up in the back of the van after dark drenched in sweat from laying in the van all day even with the windows cracked open, probably lucky he didn’t get heat stroke. At first he can’t figure out where he is or what woke him, but he stumbles outside and sees a plume of smoke rising from where Starcourt Mall used to be, and…

Steve is just walking over to check on Nancy and Jonathan when Eddie’s van screeches up and Eddie himself jumps the barrier that’s supposed to keep civilians out. That’s the first word that comes to Steve’s mind—civilian—because for a few months there he’d managed to forget. But his head hurts, his face hurts, he’d nearly had a fingernail pried off until Robin had blurted out about the code, and the military guys still had yet to find his car keys that the Russians had confiscated. Steve is tired and hungry and still waiting to find out how bad the car crash (which he hadn’t mentioned to the paramedics, one too many things to remember at the time) fucked up his neck, and he forgets to self-moderate. He drops his shock blanket to grab Eddie in a clingy hug, eyes shut tight as he huffs “Don’t ask what happened, just don’t” into Eddie’s shoulder.

The scents of leather and weed have never been more comforting before.

“Hey Munson,” Robin says tiredly, wandering over. “We’re friends-in-law now.”

“What?” Eddie manages over Steve’s disheveled, unwashed hair.

“Steve and I threw up together and became platonic soul mates,” she explains.

“Trauma bonded,” Steve adds, still into Eddie’s jacket. Which kind of explains it a little better. Sort of.

“Not asking,” Eddie decides after a confused moment. “Platonic soulmates, got it. Uh…” He looks around helplessly, recognizing Nancy and Jonathan in the background but no one else in the crowd and he’s just. Standing here with a magnificent hangover and an arm full of Steve Harrington in a bloodied sailor suit. “Anyone need a ride home?”

Only Steve and Robin take him up on the ride, which is fine. He drops Robin off first, and as he’s pulling out of her driveway Steve says, “I don’t know if it’s okay to go to sleep with a concussion.”

Eddie eases the break back on and turns to stare at him. “You have a concussion?”

Steve blinks slowly back at him. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Well… didn’t the EMTs tell you what to do? Like, how to tell if you should go to a hospital or something?”

He shrugs. “I don’t remember. Um… my parents aren’t home though, so I don’t know… Could I stay with you?”

Immediately Eddie thinks of Steve’s big house in Loch Nora, which he’d skulked around a time or two to sell at parties and pine from a distance, compared to the single-wide Munson trailer in Forest Hills. “I don’t know if you’d be comfortable—”

“It’s too much empty space,” Steve says, and there’s a look in his eyes that Eddie hasn’t seen since the first few times he bought weed. Like he’ll sit up all night jumping at shadows. And Eddie gets not wanting to be alone after being in a mall fire (apparently?), but what had put that look there before Starcourt?

“… My place it is.”

Medically, Steve is actually fine to stay alone. He hadn’t been the last time around, after Billy had cracked that plate on his skull, and that’s why Hopper had sent him home with Dustin once the gate was closed; Mrs. Henderson had been a nurse before turning to telemarketing as a way to stay home more with her son. As sure as Steve had been at the time that the Russians had beaten him harder than that, he’s much better then than he had been in November.

Except he’s not. Because Hopper is dead, and even with the gate closed this shit had still managed to come back, and that makes Steve the man of the group but he’s too scared to sleep in his own house, which is full either of dark ceilings for monsters to crawl out of or light bulbs that could start flickering at any moment. So instead he’s here lying on his side, freshly showered and back to back with Eddie on a twin bed that feels like it’s seen better days. Staring at the bedroom door because the thought of sleeping with his back to it had made his throat feel tight. Maybe that was the whiplash, but he doubts it.

Steve knows in his bones that the Upside Down isn’t done with Hawkins yet. He needs to train, to get ready… There’s Robin and Erica to think about, freshly drawn into this, one basically all his fault and the other too young to be dealing with horrors like this no matter whose fault it was. There’s Dustin (electrocuted that Russian doctor to death) and Max (watched Billy die) and the rest of the gremlins (Eleven, fuck, she just lost her dad), freshly re-traumatized and just two months out from entering the meat grinder that was freshman year at Hawkins High. If nothing else, he has to be strong for them. Which means…

Steve sighs, hugging himself tightly under the thin sheet. This whole summer he’d been leaning into doing whatever he felt like, and it hadn’t exactly prepared him for an emergency situation. He’d gotten lucky knocking out that one guard, sheer body weight leaning an extra oomph to the hit he’d landed, and that had ended the fight pretty quickly. But it hadn’t gotten him into the room with vent access fast enough to avoid getting himself and Robin captured. Being on the verge of needing to order the next size up in his work uniform hadn't lent him any protection against that Russian truth serum. All his summer of indulgences had led to was eating multiple bags of trash corn while trying to comprehend Back to the Future, which… not his proudest moment, really, but he had been drugged.

Anyway. The point is, he needs to get back in shape. He is not going to turn into King Steve again, but maybe if he could just get some of it back. Start jogging and working out again, and not indulging his sweet tooth all the time. It’ll suck, but he’s gotta protect his friends—protect Eddie, who hopefully will never have to know about monsters and Russians and little girls with mind powers.

So Steve spends a sleepless night mourning the ice cream cones on his lunch breaks, and extra burgers or slices of pizza whenever ordering takeout, and the way Eddie watches him sometimes. And that last one… Maybe it won’t go away entirely, because they’re close now. Close enough that Steve can apparently just invite himself over and Eddie just lets him without protest, and Steve likes the trailer, likes that it’s small and cozy and actually looks lived in and loved.

Around dawn, he rolls over and tentatively snuggles up against Eddie’s back, tucking an arm around him when Eddie moves unconsciously towards him rather than away.

It’ll hurt to lose any of this. But he knows that Eddie will be some amount of disappointed in him for falling back into the jock mold, so… he just wants to hold on a little longer.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie

Part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#wg steddie #love spell no go au #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #steddie #platonic stobin #chubby steve harrington #feedee steve harrington

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

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For Now

written for the @steddiemicrofic March prompt ‘pin’

wc: 388 | rated: T | cw: chubby eddie munson, weight gain, belly kink

“Ah fuck,” Eddie sighs, looking down at himself. His only pair of dress pants, and of course they don’t fit. Wayne had gotten them as a Christmas present during his first senior year—something to walk that graduation stage in, his uncle his uncle had said, and they’d ended up shoved into the farthest corner of a dresser drawer when he’d been held back. That had been… a while ago.

“Eds? What’s up?” Steve pokes his head in from the hall.

All Eddie has to do is turn from the mirror, and his boyfriend’s mouth forms a gentle oh of understanding. He steps inside, closing the door behind himself, and steps in close. His hands settle Eddie’s partly covered hips, gentle and soothing.

“They’re too small,” Eddie whines, pawing between the two of them where his belly sits stubbornly over the spread-open zipper. “Wayne’ll be disappointed if I don’t wear something nice under the stupid gown. Got me nice shoes to go with these and everything…”

Steve shushes him. “Don’t worry babe, I’ve got this.”

And look, Eddie has tried everything. Jumping and wiggling just to get them over his thighs and ass, sucking in, laying on his back—the best he can do is get the button to touch the other side, but not close enough to get it through the buttonhole, let alone zipping the zipper. Too much time spent on bed rest after his injuries, eating three filling meals a day courtesy of the government payout in a comfortable government-provided house, just a short drive away from an honest to god boyfriend.

But, unfortunately, too long of a drive from anywhere he could get new pants in time for graduation without being late for the ceremony.

Just as he’s about to explain all that, Steve drops to his knees.

“...S-stevie?” He doesn’t think a blowjob would help the pants fit better, though who is he to say if they haven’t tried?

But Steve just winks at him and produces a safety pin from one pocket. “Thought we might need this.”

Slightly disappointed, Eddie goes through the whole production of sucking in and holding his belly out of the way while Steve hooks the pin in place through the hole. Two tiny lines of cool metal on his scarred and stretch-marked skin hardly feels secure, but… it’ll do.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie

#wg steddie #chubby eddie munson #well what would YOU think if steve harrington up and dropped to his knees before you #eddie munson lives #eddie munson gets to graduate #scoops words #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficmarch

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

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I imagine that if Eddie could do magic, he would (as a young teen and therefore a dumbass with a poor grasp of the possible repercussions) try to cast a love spell to make Steve fall in love with him. It's the start of his sophomore year; Steve is just an incoming freshman who no one's really noticed yet, but Eddie is instantly smitten with the impeccable hair, the soulful hazel eyes, and that cute dazed look on his face he gets whenever surprised.

Does he dare even try to talk to Steve? No. Eddie already has zero social standing as a weird nerd who lives in a trailer park and Cannot Sit Still to save his life—which on other people would make them funny class clown material, but for some reason on him makes teachers angry and classmates roll their eyes. Just talking to Steve, Eddie is sure, would be a disaster. And even if he could, chances are Steve is straight and at best Eddie would eventually get punched in the face for admitting his feelings for the other boy.

So. Witchcraft. Chant chant chant, a possession of Steve's dropped in a bubbling cauldron, a blown out candle, and boom.

Only Eddie muffed the spell. Instead of Steve falling in love with Eddie, everyone falls in love with Steve. The spell isn't even strong enough to cause obvious problems; all the girls want him, all the boys want to be him, but there aren't, like, mobs forming over the guy's affection (or lack thereof). Eddie resigns himself to (a) being shitty at magic and (b) never getting Steve.

From Steve's perspective, his whole life changed overnight. Suddenly he's on the map at Hawkins High in a big way. He makes varsity basketball as a freshman, and at the same time is allowed to join the swim team despite the conflicting schedules. Girls are falling over themselves to go out with him. And it's great!

For a while. In some ways.

It gets him his parents' approval right up until November of 1983, when he starts to realize that maybe he hasn't really learned how to build a real relationship with someone, because all he knows is dates falling into his lap and girls looking for the social status that comes with bagging King Steve. That prowess on the basketball court doesn't mean very much when monsters crawl out of the walls and all he has to hand is a baseball bat full of nails. That a girl died in his pool because of a party he threw and him and his friends doing stupid teen shit like shotgunning beers. That the friends he's had since he became King Steve are, actually, pretty much all assholes.

After that first brush with the Upside Down, Steve stops trying to be popular. He stops throwing house parties, drops swimming, stops funding the basketball team's beer and weed purchases, and really tries (with Nancy's help) to buckle down and study.

But the spell is still in effect, so even with all that, everyone still wants a piece of him. He still goes to parties, and whenever Nancy isn't free to tag along there are always girls trying to hang off him, no matter how many times he reminds them that he's already seeing someone. Eventually he gives up, and while he doesn't cheat (he might have dated around a lot, but never with overlap; he is not his dad) he stops putting in the effort to shoo them away.

(Eddie, meanwhile, watches all of this from the sidelines and kind of hates the person he thinks Steve is now. He's not entirely wrong, because the popularity did go to Steve's head for a long time, and there are plenty of ways in which Steve's really isn't a better person for it. But Eddie also isn't close enough to see who he's trying to become now, and he's also still a little bitter in nursing his own bruised heart.)

After breaking up with Nancy and falling in with the Party, Steve starts to get even more frustrated with his lingering popularity. The rest of his senior year is still all girls fawning over him and guys being jealous (sometimes with a nasty edge to it now, like Tommy and Billy). On top of the nightmares left over from encounters with demogorogons and demodogs, it really brings out Steve's bitchy side. He stops dating, stops going to parties, stops trying to achieve in his classes in favor of coasting (and hating that all his teachers let him do it, while picking on kids like Eddie who are actively trying and just not very good at it).

One day, Eddie finds King Steve at the picnic table in the woods, looking to buy weed. Steve doesn't bat an eye when super-senior Munson names his price (double what he usually charges, but it's not like Steve has ever bought directly from anyone before so it's not like he'd know), and says that if it helps him sleep he'll start buying regularly.

Suddenly, Steve is in a slightly better mood at school all the time. He still brushes pretty much everyone off and only hangs out with middle schoolers, but he's nicer about it.

And he starts going to parties again. But he doesn't dance, and he doesn't drink all that much. A lot of the time he doesn't even stick around very long. He'll turn up and people watch, bopping his head in time with the music if it's a song he likes, and park himself by whatever food the party has to offer. Chips, popcorn, the occasional pizza—nothing extensive, most of the kids who come to these parties are there for the booze and the makeout opportunities. Sometimes Steve buys from Eddie if he's there, offers to share joints with him that Eddie, still wary, turns down. When the food runs out, Steve leaves.

See, the weed definitely helps him sleep. It also gives him the munchies, and Steve has sort of gotten into the habit of just... eating. It's not like his parents are around to notice, and Dustin and the other kids don't care as long as he springs for extras so they can have some too. No one at school would dare say it to his face, and somehow it still doesn't manage to fully tank his slightly flagging reputation, but Steve is definitely starting to put on weight.

Then he graduates, and... nothing. King Steve drops off the map.

For everyone except Eddie, anyway, because Steve still buys. And Eddie has started to relax his no-smoking-with-Steve policy lately. Between the weed and the public eye no longer pinning him in a spotlight, Steve has become an incredibly chill dude. He doesn't even mind that he didn't get into any of the colleges he applied to (or any of the ones his parents insisted he applied to either, but that's a more clear-cut relief), something he confides in Eddie around the time they start hanging out outside of sales because his dad is demanding that he get a summer job. Pros include more money for weed (although Eddie has relaxed his prices as well), but cons include less free time. Steve says Eddie can visit him at work though, and he'll hook him up with freebies and discounts.

Visiting Steve at his Scoops Ahoy job is both a visual treat for Eddie and how he finds out that he's basically Steve's only friend his own age. Those shorts, man, and even with the extra weight Eddie still thinks Steve looks great. Everything that first attracted him to Steve (the eyes, the slightly comical dopiness, and the hair, regardless of the little sailor's hat) is still there, plus big hands, broad shoulders, an endearing grin, and just... Steve.

Maybe, Eddie realizes, if he'd never done that spell at all, he could have gotten to know Steve like this years ago. He never feels like Steve's last choice when they spend time together, and definitely doesn't mind that Steve seems to forget how much space he takes up these days and always sits a little too close, whether it's on the picnic table bench or on the couch at Eddie's trailer or in a Scoops booth. Steve is goofy and sweet and a little lame, but he brings his own snacks and lets Eddie talk straight through the Star War movies and the animated Lord of the Rings film, reeling off every bit of trivia and his own personal opinions he can. Every now and then, Steve even goes out of his way to ask questions about d&d and listens to the answers.

Forget smitten, Eddie Munson is in love.

(… Okay, I thought about it some more, here's part 1. Now tagged as #love spell no go au. And there's also a part 1.5, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11.)

#wg steddie #chubby steve harrington #this started out as a thought but it quickly got away from me #might continue thinking about this later #love spell no go au

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scoops-aboy86 · 4 months

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what about a little office au? no upside down, maybe still in hawkins, steve in his parents abandoned house or maybe he’s just outside a city, with robin. and steve’s been at the job a few years, he’s a little stuck maybe. he’s definitely bored, but it’s fine, he’s just bored.

and then eddie joins his floor and steve can’t take his eyes off of him, he’s so interesting. and pretty. even if his top button is never done and his tie is always a little loose.

and then they do talk a little and eddie’s nice, he’s funny and goofy and steve knows he said a couple embarrassing replies to the guy due to his nerves but eddie has just laughed and gone along with it. it was so nice.

so steve decides he needs to talk to him more and needs an excuse to. so he bakes cupcakes, knowing his recipe is good and knowing he could work out a way to get eddie to take a break with him to have one.

the day he brings them in he leaves them in the kitchenette with a little note reading ‘help yourself!’ and steve just tries to get some work done without thinking about eddie too much, planning on talking to him later. but at around 11 eddie himself appears at his desk with a cupcake on a napkin, offering it to steve with such a sweet smile that steve just doesn’t have the heart to tell him that they’re his cupcakes. instead he says thanks and starts eating it, says ‘it’s good!’ even though he knows they’re good because steve ate three last night because they wouldn’t fit in the tupperware. but maybe it’s not so bad, because eddie lingers until he finishes it, says he’s planning on grabbing one at lunch, asks steve about his weekend plans and it seems so genuine and lovely that steve forgets all about the original cupcake plan.

instead, steve tries again the next week, this time with cookies. but the same thing happens, eddie beats him to it, walking over at around 11 with three stacked neatly in a napkin, offering them to steve and saying the same thing about getting one later. steve again saying nothing about spending all sunday making them. (the first batch came out so wonky however that he was too embarrassed to take them in, instead making a brand new lot and maybe making his way through the dud ones that night, half a gallon of whole milk to dunk them in). but eddie stays and they talk again, steve finishing all three large chocolate filled cookies without even realising it. his plan failing again but he manages a much better one, asking if he can sit with eddie at lunch and getting another smile (this one with dimples) and a ‘i’d like that’. he gets to see eddie try and seem to really like his cookies, so steve brings a small stack over for them to share. steve not realising till he back at his desk that he was the one who ended up eating them, eddie only had like one and a half.

and maybe steve keeps spending his sundays baking, spending mondays with eddie, eventually finding out eddie doesn’t really have a sweet tooth at all. but by that point steve definitely does…

(This got a little long, so buckle up.)

Oooh, yes. I’m thinking the suburbs somewhere, and he has a little bit of a commute into the office. It’s a job that a monkey could do but, well, he’s being paid to be that monkey. By the end of the day he just wants to get home and do anything that he actually wants to do, which tends to be prioritized by the path of least resistance. He’s generally gotten more sedentary on weeknights, watching movies and ordering takeout with Robin so neither of them have to cook.

And then here’s this guy that was just assigned to the cubicle across from Steve’s who is just captivating, all wild hair and quirky grins and an apparently poor grasp of how to tie a tie, and Steve is just… losing his mind a little bit. He starts waking up actually wanting to go to work, kind of? But at the same time his concentration on anything while he’s there is totally shot. Every time he hears Eddie’s voice he’s immediately distracted, wishing the words were directed at him even though it’s usually boring work shit.

At first, Eddie isn’t too talkative around the office. But maybe that’s just the distraction of settling into a new place, new job, new routine—because after a couple of weeks, Steve starts hearing him all the time. And, of course, Eddie comes over to introduce himself, a little sheepish that it’s taken him this long when they’re basically within each other’s line of sight for eight hours straight, nine of they both stay at their desks during lunch. Steve, who has had to restrain himself from openly staring ever since a few hours into Eddie’s first day, manages to answer Eddie’s nice to meet you with a mortifying “I’m nice to meet,” but Eddie just laughs like he’s told a funny joke and they move on. Which is great! And also, Steve wants to wrap himself up in Eddie’s laugh and live there forever.

Very quickly, Steve decides he needs to talk to him more. Maybe impress him with something. Which… He doesn’t really know Eddie, or what might impress him. Most of Steve’s strengths in the past have tended towards athletics, but there aren’t many opportunities to showcase that in an office. After racking his brain for a few days, he ends up cracking the single cookbook his kitchen has to offer, because people bring donuts for the break room all the time. Why not do something like that? Maybe he can get Eddie to take a break with him to have one, and if he likes them maybe Steve can let slip that he made them…

So Steve blows off his usual jogging routine and spends his entire weekend in the kitchen. For most of Saturday he does test batches on the cupcake recipe in the back of the book because he wants to make sure he does this right. (And his first try coming out of the oven weirdly flat might be a factor, just maybe.) Sunday is reserved for decorating, after a morning of hitting the local cooking store for some things. He practices on the duds (read: did not meet his own probably high standards for impressing Eddie) first, and finds he kind of likes it. By the end of the day he has them looking just like in the picture beside the recipe, neatly swirled piping and sprinkles and all.

On Monday, when Eddie comes by and offers Steve one of his own cupcakes “before they’re all snatched up” and a wink, oh my god… Steve’s brain flatlines and for some reason he eats the cupcake frosting first, just licking it right off the top like it’s some sort of ice cream cone, like an idiot. But Eddie is nice enough not to comment. In fact, he wheels his desk chair over and eats the sandwich he brought from home in the middle of Steve’s “doorway,” making his way through a sandwich while Steve finishes the cupcake, his own lunch, and…

Okay, so, meanwhile, Eddie is absolutely beside himself over how hot this guy is. This job was a last resort, an it’s-this-or-eviction choice after trying to make it with his band didn’t quite pan out, but he’s starting to appreciate it for the perks. And Steve keeps wanting to talk! To him! So when he’d seen those cupcakes in the break room, he knew that bringing Steve one would be a great excuse to drop by right around the lunching hour. The whole… frosting thing kind of makes his brain short out from excessive horniness, that tongue and those lips should be illegal probably. Sometimes Steve gets really into the conversation and is excited enough to talk with his mouth full, which is endearing as hell—and who knew such a clean-cut guy would know anything about d&d, let alone be interested in hearing about some of his old campaigns? (Apparently there were these kids Steve used to babysit and still keeps in touch with, and they’ve been playing forever.) Eddie is enjoying himself so much that he bounces back into the break room for one more cupcake. “It was the last one, you have it,” he says, presenting it to Steve. It is totally not a ploy to watch him eat more. (Yes it is. And it works.)

Next week, it’s cookies. Eddie figures that three cookies are an equivalent offering to one cupcake, and he doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth so he lets Steve eat most of them. Again they have lunch together in Steve’s cubicle, and again Eddie fetches more baked goods for dessert, because, “It’s a Monday, man. Gotta brighten it up somehow.” And then shows Steve his tattoo of Garfield smoking a blunt.

If Steve hadn’t already been sitting down, the revelation that Eddie has tattoos would’ve taken him out at the knees. And they’re not all that cartoony—the wyvern and the puppetmaster are both cool designs, and he thinks the simple bat silhouettes are cute. Not as cute as Eddie’s dimples, which are another thing that make Steve grateful for his trusty desk chair.

This goes on for a while. Steve gets another cookbook, this one devoted entirely to desserts, and makes his way through it page by page. He finds that he really likes baking, actually, and it’s nice to have a hobby again. It’s just… they’re getting more elaborate, and increasingly impractical to bring for sharing around the office. He knows the cheesecake is pushing it, and it’s over a slice that they’re nominally sharing but he’s absently made his way through most of that he finally gets up the nerve to ask Eddie if he’d like to hang out after work sometime.

And this leads to the first time Steve sees Eddie outside of his work clothes. Hair even wilder than usual, metal band tee and a leather jacket over tight black jeans and boots. Meanwhile, Steve has… maybe miscalculated a bit, because all that baking (or, really, the eating of it) is starting to show. And he doesn’t go out all that much, not since his wild party days during high school, so his selection of non-work clothes isn’t exactly robust. But he thinks he did okay with his yellow sweater and jeans, even if the latter are a little tight at his thighs and middle. No one’s going to notice, right?

Eddie notices. He barely keeps from stammering as he joins Steve at the bar, covering it up with a hasty suggestion that they buy each other a drink they think they’d like. Steve orders Eddie some sort of beer, but Eddie, who used to take the odd bartending gig here and there, orders Steve a creamy looking drink that tastes exactly like a boozy, melted vanilla milkshake. “It’s called a Screaming Orgasm,” he explains with a smirk. “Kahlua, amaretto, vodka, Bailey’s, and heavy cream.” He leans in close and murmurs in Steve’s ear while he’s taking his next sip, “The vodka makes it scream.” They end up closing down the bar, not overdoing it on the drinks (thanks in part to the snacks Eddie keeps ordering and Steve keeps absentmindedly powering through throughout their nonstop conversation) but staying out pretty late for a work day, and one thing leads to another, and… they both end up calling out sick the next morning, cozied up together in Steve’s apartment.

When they eventually roll out of bed, Eddie sees and starts flipping thorough the cookbooks in the kitchen while Steve makes coffee. A lot of the pictures look familiar and he starts to grin. Turning and seeing what he’s looking at, Steve blushes because oops, busted.

But Eddie turns to the next page past the cheesecake and taps the recipe for molten chocolate cakes. “Can you make this?”

“For… breakfast?”

“Yeah.” Eddie, who isn’t much of a breakfast person any more than he has a sweet tooth, eyes Steve and licks his lips. “We’re already playing hooky, let’s break all the rules.”

Steve ends up making the lava cakes with little protest. And maybe he ends up eating most of them, but he’s proud of how they turned out! Perfect on the first try, fluffy on the outside and gooey on the inside, and he separated the eggs without breaking any yokes, which is always worth celebrating.

Besides, Eddie enjoys them greatly all the same, scooting two kitchen chairs so close together that he’s practically on Steve’s lap while chocolate-flavored stealing kisses between bites. The serious sweet tooth that Steve has developed lately is in heaven.

Cut to another few months later, and Steve has already developed a much healthier work-life balance. Sometimes he still clocks out and has a movies and takeout night with Robin; sometimes Eddie joins them, getting along with Robin so well that they sometimes gang up on Steve (affectionately); sometimes it’s a date night, which about half the time means a baking night, too. It’s nice to have a partner in the kitchen, and they work well together.

At their day job, sweet treats still show up in their floor’s break room every Monday like clockwork. Some of their coworkers have caught on to who brings them, and a few have gone out of their way to assure Steve (particularly after he started experimenting with flakey pastries) that if he ever quits to open his own bakery they’ll be his first and most loyal customers. It’s… a thought. Steve has secretly been looking into what all he’d have to do to pull that off, though he hasn’t made any decisions yet. Maybe when the arms of his trusty desk chair start cutting into his sides, the way they’re starting to threaten to, he’ll get serious about it.

So yeah, treats in the break room every Monday. And there are treats packed in Steve’s lunches every other day of the weekday too, just for him and Eddie to enjoy at one or the other of their desks. Steve still eats most of them, but he’s also been experimenting with savory hand pies and Eddie puts up more of a fight for those.

One weekend, Eddie coaxes Steve to dress up in the clothes he wore for their sort-of-accidental first date, and they barely fit anymore.

Steve would be embarrassed by how many tries it takes and how much he has to suck in to get the jeans buttoned, let alone all the jumping and shimmying he’d had to do to get them up his thighs, except Eddie is on him immediately. Feeling around the waistband, his hands sliding into his back pockets with a squeeze, rings pressing into Steve’s ass through the straining denim, then slipping back out to tug the sweater down and tight over Steve’s belly, (which as per usual is stuffed with Steve’s own sweet cooking).

“It suits you,” Eddie all but purrs, and it’s hard not to preen when being groped and spoken to like that. “Is any of that peach cobbler still left?”

Lunchtime is close enough that Steve’s stomach gives an eager little grumble at the thought, and yeah, he could go for some of that right now.

With a chuckle, Eddie goes to grab a familiar Tupperware out of the fridge and a fork from the silverware drawer. He doesn’t bother with a plate, and follows Steve to the couch only to settle himself on his lap, first bite already ready to go and teasing at Steve’s lips.

“Still can’t believe you let me seduce you with your own cooking, sweetheart,” he says, watching the other man’s mouth close around the forkful with wide, dark eyes. Their next kiss is fruity, buttery, sweet. “Mmm. Can’t believe you learned to bake because of me.”

“Yeah, because I got nothing out of that,” Steve replies with a chuckle, patting and then rubbing a hand in slow circles over his belly, coyly letting it ride up a little to see if Eddie reacts.

He does; he always does. Eddie is transfixed by the crescent moon of skin this reveals, distracted for once from Steve’s lips as he feeds him the next bite. (This also works when Steve really wants to make a case for rewatching The Breakfast Club for the millionth time.)

So yeah, Steve is pretty happy with his life these days. He’s also pretty sure he’s in love with this man who still for the life of him cannot tie a tie properly. He’ll probably tell Eddie soon, even.

For now, he enjoys his mouthful of cobbler and lapful of boyfriend, and spreads his legs a little with a contented sigh as his ill-fitting jeans grow ever tighter.

#scoops words #ask #hotluncheddie #chubby steve harrington #office wg au #wg steddie #look at me replying to this at 1am my time 😂#all hail the weekend

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

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The aftermath. I'm not sure how many more parts to this story there will be, but at least a couple.

Anyway, Eddie Munson lives, baby!

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 of the love spell no go au

Scrying isn’t something Eddie has delved into much but he knows a scrying plane when he sees one. The shallow water beneath his feet ripples out with every step, echoing out into infinity. He can hear hundreds of thousands of voices whispering just on the edge of hearing, too quiet to make out, and pinches the inside of his wrist to see if this is a bad dream he can simply wake up from.

… Nope.

There’s nothing to see and nowhere to go, but he tries. He picks a direction and walks for a long time.

A very long time. Until—

“Eddie?”

He whips around, and a girl who may or may not have been there a minute ago regards him with big, tired eyes. Younger than him. Shaved head.

“That’s me,” he replies warily. “Are you… the party’s Supergirl?” Dustin had said something about her losing her powers, but she must have found them again to be here.

She smiles a little at that, a small but genuine thing. “I’m Eleven. You can call me El, or Jane.”

“El-or-Jane it is,” Eddie replies with a bow, and that one earns him a laugh.

“You are funny,” she tells him. “I’m glad my friends in Hawkins had you to help them.”

When Eddie goes to protest that she has it backwards, they’d helped him, El informs him that his ripcord spell had killed Vecna. She’d been in his mindscape when the others’ attack on the dark wizard had begun, the red hell dissolving around her, putting her out of range while Eddie was casting. But Vecna, through his hive mind connection with the bats, had been front and center, and it had zapped him like a bug flying into a light bulb. Enough for whatever power had kept him alive through the ravages of interdimensional travel and decay and being set on fire to be snuffed out.

El had hurt him, and his physical body had died of the burns from Robin and Steve’s Molotovs and bullets from Nancy’s sawed-off, but it was Eddie who struck the final blow. Otherwise, Vecna might have crashed through that window onto the front yard below and still gotten up again to slink off, lick his wounds, and continue his assault on the Right Side Up.

“I think we use our powers very differently,” El tells him thoughtfully, and isn’t that just the understatement of the goddamn year. “I don’t understand what you did, or how, but… thank you.”

Eddie is uncomfortable being thanked, when all he did was run and then pin all his hopes on one last-ditch effort. He jams his hands deep in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, sending out more ripples to nowhere. “Yeah, well… It’s been a hell of a week, all I want to do now is get some fucking sleep.”

El looks perplexed by this, then firm as she shakes her head and holds out her hand. “You have been asleep for long enough. I promised Steve I would bring you back.”

And, okay. Eddie isn’t really one for taking the hands of strange children (he’s in his twenties now, fifteen-ish is a child, shut up) and letting them lead him around, but he thinks he’d do just about anything for Steve.

Seeing Eddie’s eyes flutter open sends a shock of electricity through Steve. He barely remembers to give El the tissue waiting in his hand before swooping in to scoop up one of Eddie’s with both of his, enveloping pale fingers while careful not to jostle the iv line connected to his wrist. “Eds? Eddie? You with us, man?”

And when those eyes settle on him immediately upon focusing, like Eddie had already known where to find him, Steve feels that zing again only stronger.

“Mm,” Eddie croaks in agreement.

Robin is at Steve’s elbow, already handing him the bowl of ice chips (all Eddie is allowed right now) so he can spoon a few pieces in through chapped lips.

“Eddie,” Dustin says tearfully, and Mike and Will have to immediately restrain him from tackling the guy who just came out of a fucking coma in a relieved hug.

Steve holds Eddie’s hand again while he sucks on the ice and Nancy goes to let hospital staff know that he’s awake.

It’s a few more days until Eddie can stay awake long enough to really talk, and a few more after that before he starts remembering the answers to the questions he keeps asking.

“Is Dustin okay?”

Broken leg, but it’ll heal.

“What about Max?”

Two broken legs and two broken arms, but she’s already been discharged in casts and a wheelchair. She’s staying with the Sinclairs so she isn’t home alone while her mom’s at work.

“Did we win?”

Vecna’s dead, the three gates closed, and the Upside Down sealed away for good. Plus, they didn’t lose anyone this time; Hopper is even back from the dead. So yeah, it’s a win.

“Do people still want to kill me?”

Jason Carver had been arrested for assaulting Lucas, which had lost him a lot of standing with the town. (Not all of it though, so not nearly enough as far as Steve is concerned.) He’s now the lead suspect for the attempt on Max’s life, and it turns out that his only solid alibi for Chrissy and Fred’s murders had been Patrick. Eddie is still known as the local freak, but he’s at least no longer wanted for multiple murders.

“Where’s Wayne?”

Sometimes Mr. Munson is there to take this one, but most times, like today, Steve has had to explain that he’s working a shift at the plant. But he knows that Eddie’s alive and innocent and going to be okay, and he’s already planning to visit again as soon as he clocks out.

“It’s really over?”

Steve answers all of these, like he has before, and holds Eddie’s hand while he processes everything all over again like it’s the first time. It’s not Eddie’s fault; they’ve had him on a lot of pain meds.

“… I’ve asked this before, haven’t I?”

That’s new. Steve nods, then closes his eyes and lets out a heavy sigh. And lets it out, finally. “I am so goddamn mad at you. I told you not to be a hero. What the fuck about that did you not understand? And then you went and nearly died.”

The look Eddie gives him is the clearest it’s been all week, sad and unsettlingly resigned. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You’re—” Steve stops, presses his lips into a thin line, pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “Sorry? That’s it?”

Eddie looks down at their still-joined hands like he doesn’t understand why Steve still wants to touch him. He feels so fragile and washed out against the white of the hospital bed and the pale hospital gown, a nasal cannula holding back his limp and unwashed curls where it hooks over his ears. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll never do it again,” Steve replies, the words immediate and hot on his tongue. “Shouldn’t be too hard, it’s not like there are any more dark wizards or demon bats to chew half your skin off.”

He almost feels bad at how Eddie’s big eyes seem to get bigger, and definitely wetter at the corners. But he’s got his own bites, itching like crazy as they heal beneath the bandages hidden by his polo, and he’s been sitting in this hospital chair for what feels like forever while Eddie was in his coma. His back twinges when he moves, and he hasn’t been sleeping well, not even when Robin stays over. Everything feels uncomfortable and stressful and this idiot almost died and he can’t, absolutely cannot go through it again. Ever.

“Steve, I… I won’t, I just… I was stupid and forgot about the vents. I wasn’t trying to be a hero, I just wanted to fix what I fucked up.”

“Well you are,” Steve manages to say, despite his throat feeling increasingly tight and his own eyes starting to feel hot. He wipes at them roughly. “A fucking hero, I mean. You ended it. Butthead,” he adds, giving Eddie’s hand a tight squeeze.

That is what makes Eddie’s eyes spill over with a wet little sound sneaking out between his lips. “It was the ripcord spell. I ended everything. So… you’re mad, I get it, and if you don’t want to be friends anymore—”

“Of course I don’t want to be friends,” Steve interrupts. “I want to date you, you idiot. I told you that already.”

“But the love spell—”

“Fuck the love spell. Maybe it made me fall in love with you one time, but I fall for you all over again every time I see you, Eds. So when you’re healed up enough, I’m going to put you in a wheelchair and push you to the hospital cafeteria so we can have our first official date over the shittiest food in the known universe, and the only thing that’ll stop me in said universe is if you don’t want to.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, a wonderful hope going from spark to steady glow in his expression. “Are you going to let me finish a sentence on this date?”

Steve smirks, but behind the mask of confidence he has the same wonderful relief welling up in his chest and he’s not actually sure he’s hiding it well. “Play your cards right, and sure.”

He’s never seen a brighter smile than the one Eddie aims at him. And yeah, Eddie is frail and scarred and still connected to a worrying amount of beeping hospital equipment, but he’s also just beautiful. “Then I accept, big boy. It’s a date.”

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 10, part 11

#scoops words #love spell no go au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson lives #wg steddie

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scoops-aboy86 · 3 months

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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

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scoops-aboy86 · 1 month

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I guess this... is the end! With an epilogue to follow, probably, that's a little more soft feedism related, but for those who aren't into that it's totally optional. Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride, and I'll put this up on ao3 sometime soon. 😊

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10 of the love spell no go au

The world didn’t end, so life goes on. Eddie, who is the king of casting teeny little spells so he heals fast but not too fast, gets out of the hospital and moves into a one-story little place with Wayne that’s miles from the trailer park. It’s on the same street as Robin’s house so he sees her all the time—but still not as often as he sees Steve.

And they tell Wayne what really happened, NDAs be damned. It’s a Tuesday night and Steve and Robin have brought a couple Western tapes from their latest shift at the miraculously still standing Family Video; they put one on in the background and a flick of Eddie’s fingers make sure that’s all the government bugs scattered throughout the house can hear.

Afterwards, when they’re about to head over to the bigger record shop in the next town over to replenish Eddie’s music collection but pulling up at a gas station first, Steve complains that the whole thing was a little anticlimactic.

“We told him there’s a whole other dimension under Hawkins that there’s this huge government cover-up about it and he didn’t even blink.”

“Well,” Eddie starts, then abruptly reaches for Steve’s ear and produces a quarter from it. He leans over from the passenger seat and holds it up in Steve’s line of vision with a smirk. “It takes a lot to startle us Munson men, sweetheart.”

“Really?” Robin interjects dryly while Steve pulls up to the pump and cuts the engine. “Because the other day Steve asked you to get a sponge from under the kitchen sink and something touched your hand and you shrieked because you thought it was a spider.”

Steve eyes the quarter critically. “Did you… really just magic a coin out of my ear?”

“When it was, in fact, the sponge in question,” Robin finishes.

Eddie sticks his tongue out at her. “Of course not, baby, that was slight of hand,” he tells Steve, repocketing the coin and glancing around to make sure the gas station is deserted before planting a little kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, okay.”

“I actually magicked it from your gas money jar into my pocket.”

Steve laughs, and that Eddie wants to bottle and hoard like one of those stupid rich old men with their dusty old French wines. “Good thing I’m not just about to get gas or anything, or I might need that back.”

“I’ll get you something from the convenience store?” Eddie offers, batting his eyelashes and tilting his head in a way that he knows makes his eyes look bigger. Knows because Steve has told him, and seems as susceptible to it as cats to catnip.

“Strawberry slurpee,” Steve says immediately. “But if they only have cherry, I want a blue one. Wait, Robs—that’s what the screaming was about?”

Eddie flails with both arms, waving at them both to get out of the car as all three of their doors pop open. “Alright, nothing to see here, some of us have snacks to buy and one of us has a car to gas up, let’s go!”

So they all pile out, and Steve points at Eddie over the car while unscrewing the gas cap. “You’re going to use that on the gremlins, right?

“Just who do you take me for?” Eddie scoffs, hooking an arm through Robin’s and dragging her towards the store. “Of course I am, Harrington.”

Robin snorts but keeps up with him, breaking into a frankly jarring skip that causes them to almost trip over the curb right in front of the doors. Once inside, they break into their customary shop-till-you-drop game of trying to grab everything they want, beat the other to the register, and get to the car before Steve finishes filling the tank. They both almost always lose, but it does help make stops like this more efficient.

(It has been Steve’s idea.)

“You know,” Robin starts conversationally while he’s filling two slurpee cups at once and she’s flipping rapidly through a nearby magazine rack, “I’ve never witnessed the dingus in an actual relationship before.”

Eddie flicks his eyes in her direction, then to the bored-looking cashier, but the statement was vague enough and Robin isn’t stupid. He returns his attention to the slurpee machine. “I find that hard to believe.”

“No, I’m serious. He’s dated a lot, and I mean a lot, but—ah ha!” Snatching the magazine she was looking for, she moves on to the soft pretzel heater and grabs the tongs to fish a couple off the slowly rotating rack. “But no one he’s ever really gotten serious about. He used to complain to me about his dates at length… Kinda relieved that’s over. He’s literally the happiest I’ve ever seen him these days.”

As she turns away to grab a couple Cokes, Eddie hides a giddy smile behind his hair—and then beats her to the register with a slurpee in each hand and a flimsy but full little shopping basket dangling from one arm.

Because Robin wouldn’t lie, not about Steve. She’d already threatened him over Steve’s welfare back in the hospital (and people thought he was scary, Jesus); it’s obvious that she wouldn’t encourage him if she didn’t think it was in Steve’s best interest. And, against all laws of probability and magic, Eddie seems to make him happy.

The happiest his platonic soulmate has ever seen him, even.

“I win,” Steve crows when Eddie is still a few feet from the car. He lifts the nozzle, blows on it like it’s a smoking gun, and pumps his fist in victory. “In your face, Munson!”

Eddie doesn’t care though. His prize is in Steve’s beaming smile, in the energy that rolls off him that crackles across Eddie’s senses like a kind of magic all his own. “Yeah yeah, big boy, you’re a champ.” He holds up the slurpees and the flimsy plastic bag crammed with a tube of Pringles, a bag of pretzel sticks, Doritos, and various snack cakes. “Are we ready to hit the road or what?”

Robin jogs up behind him, bagless because she keeps insisting that they’re bad for the environment but barely hanging onto her sodas, pretzels, magazines, and a few odd candy bars. “Aw man, did we lose to the dingus again?”

“Yes,” Eddie tells her faux mournfully as he crowds past Steve to the front passenger door, bumping against him way more than necessary but meeting no complaints. “Almost makes me reconsider giving you the change, Steve-o.”

He does anyway, though. Drops a nice, shiny quarter into the gas money jar after getting himself situated, slurpees nestled in their cup holders and a Twinkie already unwrapped to shove suggestively in his boyfriend’s mouth as soon as the wonder twins are both in the car. Robin heckles from the back seat; Steve takes it with the ease of practice and a smirk as he chews and swallows and licks escaping cream filling from the corners of his mouth.

It’s a beautiful summer’s day and Eddie feels like the luckiest guy in the entire world.

Tag list (comment to be added/removed): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth @zombiethingy

#love spell no go au #steddie #wg steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #scoops words #chubby steve harrington

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

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I've had a terrible day, comment to ease my turmoil?

Oh, and towards the end of this chapter, “Luck can’t fix stupid” is just Eddie being hard on himself. He is a good boy who is trying his best.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 of the love spell no go au

By morning, Eddie wakes to find that he’s rolled over in the night and Steve has burrowed into his arms. Hair that smells of Eddie’s shampoo tickles at his nose, and Steve is warm. A tingling under Eddie’s fingertips where they’re draped across Steve’s back tell him that his healing spells are still working—maybe that’s why Steve is sleeping so peacefully that it’s already dawn.

Nancy was supposed to have woken Steve for his guard shift, probably hours ago. Huh.

Eddie wants to melt into this and soak it up, just in case he never gets another chance, but… there’s too much going on right now to get caught up in whatever this might be. Better to take a page from Steve’s book and let it be, hold his tongue and wait until they’re not dealing with an interdimensional catastrophe.

Careful not to wake the (beautiful, brave, captivating) boy in his arms, he extracts himself carefully from the bed. He can’t resist leaving a soft kiss on Steve’s temple before he goes, though, his heart clenching and expanding and basically exploding in his chest when Steve shifts with a sigh and presses his full body into the space Eddie just vacated, seeking the lost body heat and breathing deeply against Eddie’s pillow. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck.

Instead of crawling right back into bed like he wants to, Eddie slinks out of the room and down the short hallway to the living room, eyes averted from the fleshy gash in the ceiling. Nancy is standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed as she stares up at it—but her eyes are clear, and she refocuses on Eddie as soon as he clears his throat.

“So, uh,” he croaks, throat still rough from sleep. “Watch system kinda broke down, didn’t it?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Nancy replies, too quick not to be at least a little defensive.

Eddie peers past her to Robin, who is asleep face-down on the couch with his uncle’s scratchy wool blanket draped over her. “Not saying I blame you there, Wheeler, but. Did you try?”

After a pause, Nancy lets out a breath that seems to come from all the way down to her toes, stiff shoulders slumping just a little and world weary in a way that no teenager should have to sound. “No.”

He flashes her a brittle smile, because yeah, he gets it. The only reason he’d managed any shut-eye was probably thanks to Steve’s reassuringly steady breathing at his back. “Fair enough. Instant coffee?”

There’s only the slightest twitch of distaste in her expression (he’s betting the Wheelers can afford actual coffee beans and shit) before she nods. “Coffee would be great.”

Which kind of makes him feel like a waiter, but he did offer. Eddie puts his back firmly to the gate and pokes around the kitchen for a pot to fill with water, pours it into four different mugs once it’s come to a boil, and dutifully stirs in the shitty off-brand Folgers.

He sips his own somberly, pensive. All his life, it’s been drilled into him that magic is to be kept secret, cast in the shadows and never so flashy that it would draw too much outside attention. That’s what had gotten his dad locked up.

But this group already knows about magic, even if they only refer to it as such using dnd metaphors that are actually more accurate than they think. Hell, maybe psychic powers are just a different method of spell casting—that’s deeper into magic theory than he usually ventures to go, though, so whatever. Not important right now. The point is… they could all die. It’s a very real possibility, especially for Max, and Eddie’s seen how that goes twice now. If there’s anything he can do to help, he has to try.

Which means… he has to tell them.

After Nancy recounts what Vecna showed her, after they formulate a plan that makes Eddie’s stomach clench and roll with dread, Eddie opens his mouth and says, “Guys, I have to tell you something.”

They sit patiently if a little incredulously through his explanation. A little more credulously once he gives a demonstration, turning an apple from the Mayfield’s kitchen blue, then, purple, then neon orange, then back to red and slicing it down the middle into an even seven pieces without so much as touching it.

Dustin speaks up first, because of course he does—interrogating him about what offensive and defensive spells he knows, leading with examples that Eddie recognizes almost word for word from the Monster Manual. Lucas joins in after a minute, the boys’ enthusiasm snowballing until suddenly they’re drafting a list of things they want to see if Eddie can do.

It’s Steve who ends up putting a stop to that, snapping. “Hey shitheads, he’s not a show pony and he’s not going to do tricks just to satisfy your scientific whatever, alright? You wouldn’t do that to Eleven, we’re not doing it to Eddie.”

“Scientific method, Steve,” Dustin grumbles, but relents. Eddie shoots a grateful look to Steve over the kid’s shoulder, and the smile he gets in return makes his heart do a flip.

“I can’t do big shit like Vecna,” he cautions everyone, now that he can get a word in edgewise again. “But I can do smaller stuff. Protection charms on clothes, spells to make sure we don’t miss what we’re aiming for, that kind of thing. I can help, I’m just… not your point guy. I’m no Supergirl.”

Max snorts at the Supergirl part, but speaks up with a grave, “As the person sticking out my neck for this crazy plan, not missing sounds nice.”

That seems to clinch it. And next up, they need to stock up on weapons, so…

It was waking up to a cuddly Steve Harrington that did it, Eddie swears. That, and adrenaline from staring down the barrel of the balls-to-the-wall insane plan the group has concocted, because Eddie is surrounded by fucking heroes aparently. He doesn’t feel very heroic.

Because he says things like “It’s not exactly a car, Steve” with a devilish smirk, and not asking but telling Steve that he’s driving the stolen RV, the words big boy tumbling out like his mouth has a fucking mind of its own. And each of those times, Steve blinks back at him with something in those hazel eyes, which Eddie is trying so hard to tell himself he doesn’t know how to read, but he wants.

There isn’t time to do anything about it, though. When the RV’s rightful owners start banging on the door, adrenaline sends Steve leapfrogging into the driver’s seat and Eddie scrambling to get away from the windows so he won’t be spotted. They roar out of the trailer park with the kids whooping in the back, caught up in the adventure of it.

Eddie feels like everything is going wrong and about to get worse, but he��s felt that way ever since Chrissy died so that’s nothing new. At least Steve stays in the RV instead of going into the War Zone, even if it takes Robin pointing out that the entire high school had seen them talking at Eddie’s locker on Friday and some probably noticed them sitting together at the game—because yeah, Lucas had told them what Jason Carver had done to Gareth, and Eddie doesn’t want anyone else hurt because some vigilante jock thinks they might be harboring him.

“Sorry,” Eddie tells him after the others are gone. When Steve gives him a blank look, he adds, “That you’re a known associate of The Freak.” He nods towards the back of the RV where the two boys are wrapped up in a conversation of their own. “It’s bad enough that Lucas and Dustin are in the crosshairs, but they at least signed up for Hellfire.”

Steve frowns. “You’re my friend, Eddie, I don’t care who knows that. It shouldn’t even matter.”

“Dude, all of this shouldn’t be happening, but it is. It does matter. A hell of a fucking lot.” Eddie braces his elbows on his knees and drops his head into his hands. “Fuck.”

After a moment, a hand presses tentatively between his shoulder blades, shifting reassuringly up and down. It’s a big hand. Eddie is almost disappointed that he’s too upset to fully appreciate the contact.

As it is, he groans into his hands and shrugs the touch off. “Steve, I should… I have to tell you something.” And you might not want to keep touching me after you hear it, he doesn’t say out loud.

“What is it?”

Eddie lifts his head with a flick of his hair and a quick flail of his hands. “That was—I just cast a little privacy spell, if you were wondering. So the kids can’t eavesdrop.”

“Okay,” Steve says slowly. “Do you do that a lot? Just do magic like that? Because, you move your hands around a lot…”

He can’t help but smirk a little at that. “Not as much as you’d think. It’s a good cover if I have to, though.”

Steve’s eyes are wide and curious, his irises a honeyed brown tinged with spots of green. “Have you ever used magic on me?”

Aaand there it is. Eddie looks down at his hands, now clasped across bare his knees where time and wear have reduced the denim to strings. “Yep.”

“Like what?”

So Eddie tells him about the love spell.

Magic, considering everything else Steve has seen over the past few years and especially the past few days, isn’t much of a stretch to accept. That trick with the apple had helped, but for the most part he’s learned to just push through the confusion and listen to whoever sounds the most certain about it.

And Eddie sounds pretty certain that he’s ruined Steve’s life.

But that’s… not right. His life doesn’t feel ruined. He has Dustin and Robin. Yeah, he keeps ending up in life or death situations, but that gives him a sense of a purpose and might have happened anyway, because it’s not like Eddie’s one spell back when they were underclassmen created Hawkins Lab or Henry Creel out of thin air.

A big part of Steve is elated, actually. Eddie likes him. Or liked him, enough to try and secure his heart with magic. Maybe that elation is from the spell, but honestly? The world might end tonight and any of them might die trying to stop it, so he’ll take any good feeling he can get regardless of where it’s coming from.

When he tells Eddie as much, the guy looks about ready to cry.

Before he can protest, Steve says, “I know you think you made me feel this way and that it’s like—” he frowns, unable to remember the way Eddie had put it “—violating my self-asomething-or-other, but fuck that. Your uncle said it wouldn’t have worked if I could never have liked you on my own, right? And I… In high school, people just hung around and I could never figure out why. Magic is as good an explanation as any, I guess. But with you, I had to work to get you to be my friend. I had to earn it. The more I got to know you the more I knew you’re a great guy, so by the time we were friends it felt like I’d really accomplished something, you know? You’re really nice, once you get past the prickly attitude—”

“Prickly?” Eddie mutters, quiet like he wants to interrupt but still feels a little too guilty to quite dare. Steve gets it; he knows how guilt can be, especially when it’s guilt for a stupid reason.

“—And you’re smart, way smarter than me. The teachers who failed you are either full of shit or bad at their jobs, probably both. You’re so creative it blows me away, keeping track of all that Dungeons and Dragons stuff and making up entire worlds and all the people that go in them. And you have a great smile, with dimples and everything, and your hands are… And the way you watch me sometimes, like I’m the only person in the room even if we’re in a crowd, it feels really good.”

Eddie is getting more red by the second, a flush starting in his cheeks and threatening to go all the way to his chest at the compliments. Which, okay, Steve knows he’s gushing, but he’s been bottling all this up for a while and he’s not used to that. When it comes to love he’s usually an all-in kind of guy, and holding back had led to a quiet but snotty breakdown in Robin’s arms the night before.

… Damn, he’s going to have to admit that she was right about Eddie being into guys (into him), though.

“Steve,” Eddie says, and he sounds longing. Music to Steve’s ears.

“I wanted the championship game to be a date,” Steve blurts. Because he’s already mentioned Eddie’s dimples and his hands, might as well go all in.

Eddie’s blush intensifies, the start of that dimpled grin Steve loves so much on his face. “I… I did too.”

“So… after the game, when you went off with Chrissy…”

“That was just business,” Eddie says quickly, and Steve ducks his head to try and hide the relieved grin. “I mean, I wanted to help her, but I’m, uh. It’s always been just guys for me.”

“It’s both for me,” Steve tells him, glancing up through his eyelashes. He notices the way Eddie’s hand twitches, wanting to reach out but unsure, so he reaches over and tentatively lays his fingers over Eddie’s ringed ones. “Is that… okay?”

Eddie bites his lip, and just as tentatively twines their fingers together. “Y-yeah, I think so. This is—Shit, yeah.”

“Would it make you feel better if… I don’t know, is there a way to turn the spell off?”

“Not really, magic doesn’t—” Eddie starts, but then stops, frowns. “Uh. My uncle did teach me something to undo magic once, but it’s a whole… thing. Like pulling a ripcord on a parachute, and, yeah, you stop falling as fast, but it jerks you around first. And it would ‘turn off’ every spell I’ve ever cast.”

Before Steve has a chance to react to that, they’re interrupted by the rest of the group crashing back into the RV. Steve is up and barely even registers the remnants of Eddie’s privacy spell clinging to his face like invisible cobwebs. He spots Jason Carver out of the corner of his eye just before pulling out of the parking lot and, fuck.

The rest of the day is too busy and tense to speak to Eddie alone, and Steve has a creeping worry (which he tries to ignore) that maybe Robin is right; maybe they aren’t going to be okay this time.

Eddie doesn’t get to have nice things. Like an unbroken family, or a high school diploma, or Steve Harrington.

He knows this. It’s deeply embedded in the reason he chickens out at the last minute, shaping his possible last words to Steve into, “Make him pay.” In that moment where their eyes had met he’d felt every loose thread, every unspoken thing between them weighing on him like a ton of bricks, and he regrets everything. Even though there hadn’t been time. He wonders if Steve regrets not saying whatever was on his mind back at the trailer, while the water was running… And from the way Steve looks back at him before nodding and turning to go, Eddie thinks he can hear the hollowness in it.

Steve has similar hollowness, Eddie knows. Parents whose attention has always seemed to ghost right over him ever since Barbara Holland, leaving Steve to drift all alone in that big house until he felt like a phantom. They know these things about each other; they’ve talked about it all while high (everything except the Eddie wanting Steve part… and, apparently, an entire alternate universe full of monsters). And Steve gets it, even though Eddie wishes he didn’t. Wishes Steve’s life could be easy streets and clear sailing (ha, ahoy) so that Eddie wouldn’t have to feel so seen, stripped bare of all his armor.

Even his battle vest is still in Steve’s possession, hidden under the thick army jacket.

And it’s ironic, really, that Steve thinks he’s the stupid one but Eddie forgot about the goddamn air vents in the trailer. There isn’t really a spell to protect against that; luck can’t fix stupid.

So he does the best he can think of, if it can be called thinking at this point: flings a stealth spell at Dustin so the bats will be more likely to forget about him, cuts the sheet-rope, and bolts out the door. He grabs a bike and pedals as hard as he can, just trying to get away, and in the blankness of his panicking-in-overdrive mind an idea begins to form.

When one of the bats gets caught in the spokes and Eddie goes down, he’s up almost immediately and spitting the words Wayne taught him when he was still small—before his uncle got custody but after his mom started getting sick, when Eddie’s dad had first started getting reckless.

The swarm of flying monsters descends on him while he’s still screaming the spell. After the last syllable, bleeding and knocked around by the attack, the ripcord pulls and Eddie is slammed into darkness.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 9, part 10, part 11

#scoops words #love spell no go au #wg steddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #the big magic reveal to the group is kind of underwhelming next to the threat of the apocalypse #it's as good a time to sneak it in there as any #instead of steve talking to nancy about his six little nuggets dream in the woods again he tells robin about the love spell #boy couldn't keep a secret from her if he tried

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

Text

And we're now up to part A of the main events of s4, with an (un?)healthy dose of mutual pining. Bon appétit.

Part 1, part 1.5, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6 of the love spell no go au

It’s a panic reflex, really.

Eddie sees Chrissy start to float and he knows what this is. Not the exact spell, he’s never had the nerve to dig into those kind of grimoires, those fuckers’ll take your fingers right off—but it’s definitely dark magic. And the best way to respond to dark magic is to get as far away from the spellcaster as fucking possible. He doesn’t know where the spellcaster is, so he reaches for the best hiding place he can think of off the top of his head.

One second he’s in the trailer, screaming and flailing out the spell, and the next he lands on his ass in Reefer Rick’s dank little boathouse where no one or nothing will find him.

… Okay, maybe not no one.

“Eddie?!”

With a gasp, Eddie struggles to kick off the tarp and clamber out of the old motorboat. “Steve!” His foot is still tangled in the tarp, though, so he trips, stumbles into the other boy, and sends both of them thumping up against the nearest wall. “Fuck.”

But Steve’s arms wrap around him all the same. “Shit, Eddie, I’m glad you’re okay.”

He’s not, though. He is so not okay.

Dustin is asking him about dark particles before it really clicks for Eddie—they know. Maybe not that it’s magic, but they’ve seen things before, enough to not question any of what he tells them.

“How did you get all the way out here without your van?” the redhead, Max, asks shrewdly, and he recognizes her as one of his neighbors across the way.

“I, uh.” Eddie doesn’t want to lie, because even as freaked out as he is he knows that he might end up having to tell them at this point—sorry Wayne. But that point hasn’t come yet. “I just… ran, I don’t know. I l-left her there.”

Steve still has a hand on his shoulder, at once reassuring and bewildering, and squeezes it now. “What happened to Chrissy wasn’t your fault, Eds. You said she was already gone, so it’s… You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”

Eddie is in no way okay.

God only knows how long later, Eddie matches Steve’s pace through what the younger Hellfire members dubbed the Upside Down back in ‘83. He keeps wondering if he should tell them they don’t need the guns; he knows enough defensive spells and a fire spitting trick that should be protection enough. Most of those involve setting up in a fixed location, though, meaning they’d have to hole up rather than find (or fight) their way back home… and he’s not confident enough to put all of their eggs in his basket.

It was all he could do to get his battle vest on Steve. Eddie, wary from years of being bullied, had sewn stealth and protection in with every thread he’d added to the garment, slipped healing charms in under the patches and then sewn them in place.

And then Steve says “I’m sorry I dragged you into this,” which throws Eddie for a loop.

“Pretty sure it was the dark wizard that dragged me into this, Stevie.”

Eddie still doesn’t know if his involvement was intentional or not—if he was targeted as collateral damage because of his family and heritage or if it was all about Chrissy and he'd just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He doesn’t know if his spell to get away was noticed, either, but… it would have been small potatoes compared to this asshole casting from a completely different dimension, so maybe not. Which is not very reassuring, but speculation is all he has right now.

After an awkward moment of silence, Eddie clears his throat. “So, uh… all this is why you’ve been tense since July? And why you started buying from me?”

Steve doesn’t look up from where he’s putting one foot carefully in front of the other, mindful of the sentient vines. “Yeah.” He gives a halfhearted shrug. “This is different from the last time, but it’s always different. Like, usually I get most of my injuries from getting hit by regular people, but—” he gestures at the red and bruise-mottled marks circling his neck from that demonic bat thing “—this time I guess it’s the monsters’ turn. Never know what to brace for.”

“… Well shit,” Eddie sums up, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees with a humorless laugh. “Thanks for jumping in after me though, dude. I know it’s all a lot and you're already kind of stuck with being involved, and with… losing Chrissy like that… but, yeah. It means a lot.”

Eddie doesn’t like the unfamiliar way Steve tenses up as he says this, and is puzzled by the strange phrasing. He didn’t really know Chrissy, they’d had literally two conversations and the second one was in the minutes immediately before her sudden demise. Sure, he’d wanted to help her and feels like throwing up any time he thinks about how she died, but they hadn’t exactly been close. Nothing like how he and Steve are. Why wouldn’t he try to save his… his friend?

“Nancy and Robin went first. I’m a shitty swimmer,” Eddie admits. “That’s the only reason I didn’t jump in sooner… Turned out I was more scared of being alone in that boat than I was of drowning, so yay for me. The girls did most of the heavy lifting, and you ripped that bat in half with your bare hands. That’s fucking metal by the way. A total Ozzy move.”

“Ozzy.” Steve’s forehead wrinkles, actually turning his gaze to Eddie. “Isn’t that the Black Something guy?”

“Sabbath,” he supplies, nodding. And then recounts the legend of Ozzy Osborne biting a bat’s head off on-stage. End of the world or not, he still considers himself morally obligated to lure Steve away from the top 40 pop hits, tempting him towards the dark side with impassioned lyrics and sick guitar riffs.

He almost feels able to pretend that things are normal and they’re just idly chatting, until a brief earthquake that almost knock both of them down onto the fucking sentient vines and reminds him.

The night between finding their way back out of the Upside Down and formulating a plan, the older teens take turns guarding the gate in the Munson trailer. Eddie almost breaks down and tries a circle of protection, but he’s not sure how to do that on the ceiling, there isn’t enough salt in the pantry to circle the entire trailer, and even if there were, Max’s place can’t fit all of them.

Besides, he thinks glumly, he’s not sure it would even help with these kinds of monsters. Isn’t sure what kind of traction his magic will have on things spawned in a different plane.

So he helps Steve drag his shitty mattress back into the bedroom (because Steve refuses to sit out helping even with literal bites taken out of his sides) for the four of them to sleep on during watch shifts. And gets fresh blankets and sheets from Max, at Robin’s insistence.

“New bandages,” he says to Steve once that’s done, pointing towards the bathroom in a way that he hopes brooks no argument. He’s already got a shirt and pair of sweatpants that pass the sniff test from his closet and a definitely clean pair of boxers from the dresser clutched in his other hand, ready to go.

Steve blinks at him, twice, then looks down at his own torso where Nancy’s ripped sweater is still tied around his wounds, dark from grime and spotting blood, and sighs. “Yeah, fine.”

Eddie shuts the door behind them, which makes the already cramped trailer bathroom feel even smaller. “Okay, so… Fastest way to do this is probably to hop in the shower and rinse off. You’re covered in lake and fuck knows what else from that place, don’t want any of that shit getting in the wounds. Don’t, uh, don’t scrub those, just everything else.” And busies himself with hauling the first aid kit out from under the sink, which is always a pain in the ass whether the door is open or not. The damn thing is too big for the space because of all the extra compartments for healing spell ingredients, quite a few of which he’s already planning to surreptitiously use.

Nothing happens behind him, so after a moment he pauses and looks over his shoulder to see Steve still as dressed as he was when they walked in.

“This is going to take me a while, it’ll all go faster if you start washing up now,” he points out, not trying to be brusque but he’s… not the best with blood, and trying to steel himself for what’s coming. “If you’re worried about your modesty, I promise not to look.”

“Don’t care about that,” Steve says, and he sounds tense.

Eddie tries not to think about how he’s just been handed indirect permission to watch Steve undress and shower. Jesus H. Christ. “Then… are you dragging your heels because you wanna tell me that you do have demon bat rabies, or…?”

“No.” Steve sighs, and runs a dirty hand through his already disheveled and deflated hair. How he still manages to look hot after all they’ve been through, Eddie has no idea. “How, uh. How thin are the walls?”

From outside the bathroom, Robin calls, “Pretty thin, Steve-o.”

No further answer to that question needed, Eddie inclines his head towards the door. “You heard the lady. Turning the water on helps, even though the pressure is shit. It’ll get cold pretty fast, though, so you’ll want to be quick.”

For a moment, it still seems like Steve has something he wants to say. Eddie waits patiently, looking off to the side so he doesn’t have an aneurism while Steve strips down and turns the water on, but once Steve steps under the spray he seems wholly focused on peeling away the makeshift bandages so Eddie returns to wrestling with the first aid kit. They don’t talk; Steve remains eerily silent even through disinfecting the bites on his sides and the road rash on his back, even though all of it must sting like a bitch. And then Eddie wraps him up in clean gauze and medical tape and a few subtle spells to help ease the pain and help speed the healing along, hands Steve the clean clothes to change into, and slips out of the bathroom trying not to think about how Steve’s hair now smells like his bargain bin shampoo.

“All patched up?” Robin asks, joining Steve on the mattress as they settle in for some sleep before their staggered shifts start. Since he’s injured, Nancy put him last on the rota so he could get more uninterrupted rest up front.

He nods. Flicks his eyes to the closed bedroom door, remembering from the bathroom that it really only provides the illusion of privacy, and shuffles around to lie down with a dejected sigh.

Robin follows. They lay down facing each other, cramped on the narrow bed, but they’ve done this before—Steve’s is a full, but Robin’s is a twin-sized just like this one.

In a whisper barely more than a breath, she says, “You wanted to tell him.” It’s not a question.

“Not with Nancy listening,” he whispers back. “And… Chrissy, I shouldn’t…”

Robin’s lips press into a thin line, almost invisible in the darkened room. “There’s no way Eddie Munson was hooking up with Chrissy Cunningham, dingus. Can you even see them together? No way.”

“Can you see Eddie Munson with Steve Harrington?” he hisses back, a little too loud—but though they both freeze to listen, to be sure, there’s no sound. No sign that anyone overheard.

��Maybe,” Robin retorts softly once they’ve both settled again. “You’re not exactly a bastion of conformity anymore, you know, mister babysitter with a lesbian band nerd for a best friend expert monster killer… guy. He could go for you. And I don’t think… I mean, I don’t know, but… I don’t think he’s into girls, Steve.”

“How could you possibly know that?” Steve whispers.

The eye-roll in response is practically audible. “Because he watches you all the time. And that thing with the vest when Nancy was looking at you.”

“So? I watch him all the time, and I like both!”

“Well, if I’m wrong and he is like you, doesn’t that at least mean—”

“I just don’t want to get in the way if he’s mourning her, Robs. I don’t want to be a, a rebound or for anything to happen just because we might die. Because then what if we don’t, and he doesn’t… want me anymore? I can’t do that again.”

With a rustle of blankets, Robin scoots closer to pull him into a hug. Steve doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t cry—but his hand fists in the back of her shirt and he holds on tight.

They’re still in that position an hour or so later when Eddie comes to tag Robin in, whispering that all is still quiet on the ceiling-ward front as she extracts herself. Steve remains dead asleep, even when Eddie hesitantly worms his way under the covers while staying as close to the edge of the mattress as possible so as not to disturb him.

Tag list (comment to be added): @hotluncheddie @8em-em-em8 @anaibis @connected-dots @lawrencebshoggoth

Part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

#scoops words #love spell no go au #wg steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #eddie munson lives

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