steddie text posts pt 3

I absolutely respect everyone's versions of Eddie, but there's something about him having the gumption but not the rizz when trying to woo someone that gets me. Trying to lean against the locker to talk to you like a cool guy, but miscalculating the distance and just falling to the floor. Turning around to make a quip, walking backwards, smacks his head on a low hanging branch. Just a gangly pipe cleaner with eyes

Octopus Eddie

#THE TWIRL™

Your honor, it's literally them

hug

need wayne asking eddie “you sweet on him?” about steve

Steve, who didn't come out to Robin when she did in the Starcourt bathrooms bc he didn't want to take away from her moment, entirely forgetting that he never came out to her and subsequently gives her the bitchiest look when she almost chokes to death at his casual "god I want that guy to rail me"

STWG prompt 14/1/24

prompt: fun fact

pairing/character(s): steddie

-

Steve's favourite part of watching Eddie's favourite movies with him, is the talking.

"Hey, Steve?"

The whisper cuts through the sound of Star Wars: A New Hope playing on the TV, and Steve fights a grin. Averting his eyes from the screen isn't hard, he's already done it several times in thirty minutes they've watched so far.

But he can't be mad. Not even close to it.

In the dim light of their living room, he sees Eddie's tilted his head toward him from where it lays in his lap, but his eyes are still glued to the screen.

"Mm?" Steve hums, watching Eddie's face as he gets excited. It's cute.

"Did you know that Yoda was almost played by a monkey?"

Steve does know that. Dustin likes his fun facts too. But he loves the excited look on Eddie's face when Steve gets surprised at his nerdy facts. He loves him.

"What? Really?" He plays up his surprise, and smiles as Eddie nods and raises his eyebrows in earnest. His eyes are still glued to the action, but his excitement at getting to share the information is obvious.

"Mhm. But they knew it'd pull off the mask over and over, so they made a puppet."

"Huh." Steve says simply, and Eddie tilts his head back down and presses a little kiss to Steve's thigh where he's resting, and quietens down.

For a little while, anyway.

At least once every ten minutes, Steve gets to hear another fun fact. Some he knows, some he doesn't.

"Did you know that the lightsabers were wrapped in reflective tape? "

"Vader is played by four actors."

"R2D2 is a guy in a costume."

He loves every second of it.

My first time trying to capture their dynamic. I think I did alright.

rotating eddie in my mind

I'm late, I'm sorry, but here's the full fic from this WIP post yesterday!

[CW: bullying, references to canon racism and violence, mentions of recreational drug use]

-

Steve makes it to the bathroom down the hall from the shop classroom—the one that’s far from the cafeteria and always empty during lunch, where people really only come to smoke, anyway—before he completely loses his shit.

“Son of a bitch!” He’s almost screaming as he hauls off and punches the wall of one of the bathroom stalls, putting every ounce of anger and frustration and humiliation into it, hitting it so hard that the whole construction rattles.

“Motherfucker,” he hisses, shaking his hand out, because it had hurt, and then he winds up to do it again, to make it hurt more, because at least he’s in control of that much, at least it’s anything but what he’s feeling right now.

“That’s a good way to break your hand, y’know,” a voice comes from the doorway, startling Steve into pivoting and aiming his fist at whoever is coming after him now.

He stops short when he sees nobody but Eddie goddamn Munson standing there, cringing into a startled flinch to protect his head as Steve nearly swings at him.

“Jesus shit,” Steve barks, dropping his fist and stepping back, shaky with adrenaline. “You walk like a fucking ghost, Munson.”

Munson peeks out of his defensive crouch before straightening up and sending a meaningful glance at the stall wall. “Somehow, I don’t think you would’ve heard me even if I was making all the noise in the world.”

"What's this?" Eddie asks, wide eyed and curious as he shifts the papers on Steve's desk, shuffling past unopened mail and timestamps for the page buried beneath it all, and Steve has just enough time to turn in horror before Eddie unearths it.

It - his shame, his fear, his heart laid out in graphite against a backsplash of fine white paper. He'd splurged on the stack of it hidden in one of his desk drawers, a luxury he couldn't really afford anymore but one he'd decided was worth it now that his parents had made it clear they wouldn't be back any time soon to take it from him.

He knows every line of it, every piece of shading, all the highlights he'd agonized over and the spots where he couldn't be satisfied by the shape of the nose, the angle of the jawline.

Eddie takes it in for long enough that Steve can feel time dilating around them, an infinite gasping maw of nothingness and everything all at once.

And when he's taken his fill of it, his gaze flits up again. Meets Steve's, and holds.

"It's me."

Steve breathes. In, out, two careful measures. He swallows. He contemplates, just for a moment, leaping out the window. He breathes. He swallows, again, his throat tight. He breathes.

Eddie in profile, bottom lip pinched by his teeth. Eddie, with dark shadows tilted across his jaw, his nose, his Adams apple, where a curtain of hair blocks out the light. Eddie, eyes crinkled at the corners, smile lines rushing into the heavy dip of a dimple barely visible beside the fall of his hair.

Eddie.

"But -." Eddie stares. At Steve, for a moment, before his eyes flit back to the stark lines of the portrait Steve had liked just enough not to take out and burn with the rest of them.

"I'm sorry," Steve tells him, and he means it. Sorry, for not saying anything earlier. Sorry, for accepting Eddie's friendship and taking advantage of his easy way with people. Sorry for drinking in the sight of him and squirreling away the details of each moment, hoarding each memory away for the long winter that would come to be when Eddie eventually moved on.

"You..." Eddie swallows. Breathes. In and out, a rattle of bones and teeth and sinew Steve is intimately familiar with. "It's me," he says, again, confusion furling out over his brow.

But it's not - he's not -

"I thought you'd be mad."

Eddie startles. "Mad? Mad for - why would I...?" Eyes dart to Steve, studying him. And he knows - Steve has recounted to him every missed birthday and every cool and quiet dinner with his parents, every detail of his surface level friendships before Robin, every hurt he and Nancy ever doled out to one another in their anger and fear and pain. He knows.

He knows Steve just as surely as Steve knows him.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says, in that soft, sweet voice he has for broken things he means to repair.

Steve swallows, and he breathes.

Kiss and Tell

(Can be found on ao3)

Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing

Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3

-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.

It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.

The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.

He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.

Steve picking little flowers whenever he and Eddie are hanging out near any and handing them to Eddie in what he hopes is a sweet and endearing way. Only to later find out that, not only did Eddie find it sweet, he had Robin help press them so he could keep them all in a little scrapbook

Wrong Impressions (Repeat Mistakes)

Read full fic on Ao3 | T | wc 4,055 | 5 times trope

Steve didn’t mean to get off on the wrong foot with Eddie’s uncle.

It just … kept happening.

The first time was shortly after they closed the gates to the Upside Down.

Eddie was hurt bad. Steve had to revive him, give him CPR, begging him to stay awake, to stay talking. It wasn’t until they were able to get him to a hospital and transferred into a gurney did Steve finally feel himself relax.

Which finally allowed the pain to set in.

Steve fainted in the hospital lobby.

His bites weren’t properly cleaned and ended up infected. He was in and out of consciousness. He remembered Robin by his bedside. He remembered Eddie in the room, also fighting to stay conscious. Steve could remember Eddie mumbling, singing under his breath, and talking about hobbits.

For the next few days, both of them were in a state of delirium.

Steve could’ve swore he heard Jim Hopper. Hushed voices talking about Russian soldiers. The sound of an acoustic guitar being plucked. Whispers like secrets were being told, gossiping about him as he slowly woke up.

“His parents haven’t stopped by,” one voice whispered.

“You don’t know that,” another voice huffed, a little deeper than the first.

“It’s been days,” the first voice said. The sound of a chair being pushed back, dragging on the linoleum. “You’d think that Robin girl would’ve called them.”

“Sweetheart,” the second voice hushed. “What are you doing?”

Sweetheart.

Steve felt a gentle touch on the back of his hand, softly rubbing circles into his skin.

Steve slowly lifted his eyelids, heavy as could be. His eyelashes fluttered as he tried to bring his consciousness forward.

“How are you feeling, Stevie?”

Stevie.

Steve’s vision started to clear. Pulled up in the chair where Robin normally sits, was Mr. Clarke, his former middle school science teacher.

God.

Steve had the hots for him in middle school.

By the way the second voice barked out a laugh, Steve wondered if he said that out loud. “Guess he’s still feelin’ that morphine.”

“‘m really feeling it,” Steve mumbled, closing his eyes. He hasn’t felt this disconnected from his body since Starcourt. “Imagining my gay awakening by my bedside. Crazy.”

Steve felt his hand gently squeezed before the touch pulled away. “Go back to sleep, Stevie.”

Steve flirting with Eddie, being very obvious and confident, even sending him home with a little wink and a line to call him when his uncles not home or something. but as soon as the door is shut he's running around Robin like an overexcited little puppy bc "did you see that? I'm so fucking cool, I've totally still got it".