#steddie fic writers

[infinite-orangepeel]

not to be a salacious whore, but i’m currently braless, eating pasta salad in bed, and reading a 139k steddie fic. this is my peak form.

[kittsu-makes-glass]

I’m collecting all my Steddie twt peeps here. Come in, come in my lives. Welcome to the weirdness that is Tumblr.

[bejeweledbaby]

obsessed with fics where steve and eddie were each other's first kiss when they were children but they don't connect the dots when they meet again as adults. Neither realize that this eddie is that eddie and this steve is that steve.

let me set the scene:

the older kids are having a small get together at steve's place and they're all sharing their first kiss stories. eddie starts regaling the group with the story of his first kiss with this beautiful boy at summer camp who had gorgeous hazel eyes and the softest hair. steve thinks the story sounds a little too similar to his first kiss. he starts connecting the dots when he realizes the chocolate button doe eyes he used to dream about years ago are the same chocolate button doe eyes he's been dreaming about in recent months. when it's steve's turn to share his first kiss story, he's like, "well, actually you've already heard it." and now eddie's connected the dots and pulls him into the bathroom to kiss about it. and there's some heartfelt love confessions and then they ride off into the sunset together.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Having the most hilarious little thoughts about Richard Harrington making a deal with demon!Eddie, trading wealth and success in exchange for his firstborn. 

The Harringtons climb the social ladder, Richard’s business thrives. Little Steven is born, grows up … and nothing ever happens, so they sort of put it out of their minds and never tell him about how they sold him off to a creature from the underworld before he was even conceived. 

The day after Steve’s 18th birthday, they return from a business trip to find their son frantically cleaning up the remains of a party. They’re three minutes into a lecture on how there’s soda and chips all over the expensive carpet when Eddie materializes in the middle of the living room, ready to collect his prize. 

Chaos ensues. 

Steve is freaking out. Why is that red-eyed, black-clad weirdo lounging on their couch, chunky boots up on the table as if he owns the place? Why is he looking at him like he’s a particularly tasty piece of meat? Why does the guy only need to snap his fingers and Steve finds himself straddling his lap, one ring-clad hand groping his ass? What the actual fuck is going on? 

The Harringtons are not amused. They have invested so much money into Steve over the years, thinking that Eddie had forgotten all about them, and NOW he shows up? Eddie just shrugs, idly playing with a lock of Steve’s hair. He never specified WHEN he’d come back, did he? What would he have wanted with a baby, anyhow? What is he, a daycare? 

“We thought you wanted to eat him!” blurts Mrs. Harrington, and Eddie just absolutely loses his shit. 

What the fuck is WRONG with those people? They thought he ATE babies? And they were still fine with giving him theirs? Holy fucking shit, humans are disgusting! This is it, deal’s off, he’s taking their wealth and success away again. No, the boy is still coming with him, do they honestly expect him to just up and leave him in this shithole? No fucking way! Oh, and they better never try and summon him again or those incriminating documents will find their way to the tax authorities! 

And that is how Steve finds himself living with a sassy, strangely kind-hearted demon who may or may not own his soul - they’re still trying to figure out the specifics of that. 

# hype's demon!Eddie fic

Part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

[soreddieforit]

dw spotify and ao3 have my mental health on lock

[lazylittledragon]

pt 3 of steddie dads twitter doodles because this is my thing now apparently

[stevieschrodinger]

So one day, I'll write this, but today is not that day.

Steve point blank would not go and work for his dad, he still took the money he was offered though. Argyle pitches a pizza place; Steve thinks, fuck it, and invests.

Jon does deliveries, Robin does the accounts, Nancy swings in once and a while and makes sure they're insured and up to code. Steve does whatever Argyle tells him on busy nights.

It does so good in little old Hawkins. It does so good they expand. Steve buys a run down diner. Steve knows how to cook, and Argyle has taught him how to cook large scale. Steve falls in love with the line cook gig.

The expansion is crazy, within five years Nancy becomes site manager for their 12 restaurants; they have diners, pizza joints, and one fancy Italian place that Steve has been inside of (Maybe) five times total. Robin is the company accountant, Jon still does deliveries, but now it's more logistics and stock management; if a location is stuck for something Jon is the guy they call.

It's all successful enough that Steve just...stops being involved. Nancy is pretty much running the show, he can just...be paid his CEO salary, and take the midweek nightshifts that no one wants. He loves that Diner; it was the first one they opened and it has a special place in his heart.

He loves the quiet of the night shifts, just him and his grill plate and the slow but steady orders for the lonely people who can't sleep, just like Steve.

And then there's this new hire. This..kid, who granted is stupid pretty, but he's all long sharp limbs and clumsy pointy joints and he smashes like, three things on just the first night and Steve is gritting his teeth because his quiet serenity has been disturbed ...because this kid will not shut up.

He has no idea Steve actually owns the company, but that doesn't stop him apologising every thirty seconds for one thing or another. If he's not apologising he's talking about his nerd games, or music, or asking Steve what he's into, not loosing any steam at all of Steve doesn't even answer. Eventually, Steve growls at him to shut it for a bit. And the kid just kind of. Droops.

And Steve feels pretty shitty, and that same night a rowdy bunch of kids come in and even from behind the pass, Steve can see that Eddie Does Not Want To Serve Them.

But he does. It's his job.

And Steve can hear these kids calling Eddie ta freak or whatever. And Steve is not having that; he throws the kids out by the scruff of their necks and tells them to never come back again.

And Eddie's just looking at Steve with his big pretty brown eyes like Steve's an actual Hero. And yeah. Steve has a.problem.

They definitely fuck about it in a supply cupboard or a bathroom or something at some point. Maybe in the pantry and Robin pulls a face about kitchen hygiene. Or something.

Maybe I'll make it A/B/O and put Eddie in a cute little uniform, just to really stress Steve out.

[arelliann]

Pre-season 4 steddie just consumes my whole heart like nothing else because like, what if we fell in love, but not because we were forced together by horrifying forces beyond our control, but instead just because we put in the effort to learn to trust and love and understand one another despite outward appearances and personal biases

[infinite-orangepeel]

My queen, my people, can you rec me some good descriptive fics where steddie are having wet dreams or like horny fantasies? I guess it’s horny o’clock in my part of the world.

it’s always horny o’clock in my part of the world so i’m thrilled to answer this question bc god knows i’ve consumed an excessive amount of steddie spice in my day lol ! hope you enjoy the recs, all of these writers are incredible and deserve lots of love on their work :) 💌

‘you be me & i’ll be her’ (then it won’t count when i kiss your neck and call you mine) : this one’s mine but it’s full of dirty talk, fantasizing, role play, and confessions of attraction ! so it might be up your alley !

man of my (wet) dreams: it’s friends to lovers, eddie’s in a crop top, steve’s having wet dreams about eddie—perfection !!

thirty days by @toburnup (adure): this one and the sequel left me speechless. seriously, i’ve re-read it twenty times. it’s roommate steddie with so much tension, a ton of teasing, and a whole lot of fantasizing before they actually hook up. 10000/10

cuffing season by @toburnup (adure): um um um this one’s too hot to handle like i’m just thinking about it and drooling. what can i say ? @toburnup writes steddie in a dangerously hot way. read this. there’s bed sharing and sleepy humping and wet dreaming goodness !! again one of my all time faves !!

a guide to questionably ethical tattoo practices: steve’s definitely thinking a lot of thoughts in this one (about eddie’s body) and oh it’s so good. i swear by it ! and there’s a sequel. this should be required reading.

baby hotline: steddie and spicy polaroids and dreaming about touching each other over the phone. yes, yes, yes !

secrets, secrets by @eddywoww: this fic !! this is a top three of all time for me !! at first i was like “damn this is hot, i love bitchy steve” and now i’m like “damn this is hot, i love bitchy steve AND i’m incredibly emotional about these two.” the most recent chapter made me cry bc i just love how tender and flawed they are. anything @eddywoww writes is perfect in my book. hands down the hottest fics on the market !

also giving recs of my favorite writer’s works was so fun !! i’m happy to give more recs if anyone ever wants, just message me xoxo

[flowercrowngods]

The number rings in his head, echoing off the inside of his skull and sinking lower and lower until his heart strings join the symphony that leaves him shaking as the memory of Harrington’s slurred voice is drowned out by the dial tone that feels harrowingly like a flatline right now.

Said I’ll go blind. Or deaf. Or just… die.

Eddie doesn’t really feel like his body belongs to him anymore, or like there’s anything left inside him other than panic and fear and that stupid, stupid shaking that he can’t suppress even as he bites his knuckles. Hard.

The pain helps a little not to startle too much when the dial tone stops and a female voice begins speaking to him. Still he almost drops the phone, cursing under his breath as he pulls his hair to collect himself and get his voice to work.

“H— Hello, Mrs Buckley? This is, uh. I’m. A friend of Robin’s, could you, uh—“

“Of course, dear,” the woman says, and Eddie feels his eyes beginning to prick with how nice she sounds even through the phone.

Does she know Steve, too? Would she worry if she knew? Would she curse Eddie for not taking him to the hospital right away? Would she blame him if anything happened?

“I’m sorry? What did you say your name was?” she asks, repeating herself apparently.

He blanks, for a whole five seconds, before he spots a note stuck to the fridge saying Don’t forget to eat, Eddie :-)

“Eddie,” he croaks. “Uh, Eddie Munson.”

“Alright, Eddie Munson, I’ll see if I can grab Robin for you. You have a good day, dear, yes?”

No. “Thanks.”

The hand clenched in his hair pulls tighter and tighter until the tears fall and he can pretend it’s from pain and not from— whatever the fuck is happening.

He waits, phone pressed to his ear with a kind of desperation he’s never really felt, and never wants to feel again. He doesn’t even know what to tell Robin; what to say. It’s not like they ever hang out or have anything to say to each other, so why would she—

“Munson?” Robin’s voice appears on the other end, a little too loud for Eddie’s certain state, and he does drop the phone this time, scrambling to catch it and only making the situation worse as it dangles by his knees.

He drops to the floor, pulling his knees to his chest and reaching for the phone again.

“Hi.”

“What do you want? How’d you even get this number? I swear, if you—“

“It’s Blue. I mean, Steve. Harrington.”

That shuts her right up, and Eddie clenches his eyes shut for a moment, hoping to keep the tremor out of his voice if only he takes a moment to breathe.

The moment stretches. And Robin’s voice is wary and quiet when she speaks again.

“What about Steve.”

Eddie rubs his face, leaving more dirt and grime to fill the tear tracks, and clenches his fist before his mouth.

“Eddie,” Robin demands, dangerous now. Nothing left of the rambling, bubbling mess he knows her to be on the school hallways. “What. About. Steve.”

“He… He’s hurt.”

There’s a bit of a commotion on the other end, before Robin declares, “I’m coming over. You tell me everything.”

“You— I mean, he’s in the hospital with my uncle, so—“

“I am. Coming. Over. And you tell me everything.”

Eddie finds himself nodding along, knowing intuitively that there is nothing that could stop her now.

“‘Kay.”

The next second, she’s hung up on him and Eddie is greeted by the flatline again. He lets out a shuddering breath and leans his head back against the wall.

🤍🌷 sneak peek of who did this to you pt. 3 (part 1 | part 2)

[rogueddie]

Steve hates mixtapes, always has. He's made some for girls before, went all out, spent hours making them. But he doesn't get it. He doesn't understand why people like them so much, why people think the effort is worth it.

He remembers how those girls had smiled when he'd given them the mixtapes, remembers how sweet they'd been on him after, how they kept talking about it. Even though it's just some songs he thought they might like. He was never sure how to make any of them romantic, didn't know if they expected any input from him between the songs. He's pretty sure he'll never really get it, but…

He wants to make one for Eddie.

Eddie has been trying so hard to get him to like metal or rock or anything 'alternative'. And Steve doesn't know how to explain what he does or doesn't like, doesn't know how to explain why he likes Sabbath Bloody Sabbath but can't stand T.N.T.

He's tried to explain it. Tried to sit down with Eddie and explain that there is a happy medium betweent he ones too loud and the ones that are just… boring. And Eddie tries to listen, is so clearly trying.

But Steve can't explain it, doesn't know how to. Not without sounding like an idiot, anyway. Telling Eddie that a lot of AC/DC songs don't have enough going on to make his ears feel happy would ruin whatever thing the two of them have going on.

Which is why he's sat on the floor, desperately looking through the tapes Eddie has been forcefully lending him, trying to find the right songs for a mixtape. If he can't explain it to Eddie, maybe he can show him instead.

He refuses to acknowledge to odd bubbling excitement building in his stomach. Eddie is his friend, this isn't romantic. Eddie wants to show him his music, wants to share something he enjoys, there's nothing for Steve to be getting so worked up over. For all he knows, Eddie is straight.

It takes him three weeks to make the mixtape.

"Eddie!" Steve jogs to catch up with him. It's the third time they've run into each other by accident, outside of the kids or Robin. It's the first time that Steves had the mixtape in his pocket, ready.

"Hey Steve," he raises an eyebrow. "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"Day off," Steve lies. "And I'm done with the shit I need to do. Uh, anyway, I have- I mean, it's not… fuck. Ok, here, just…" He awkwardly holds the mixtape out, shifting when Eddie carefully takes it, like it's something precious. "It's, uh… I know you've been, like, struggling to figure out what metal songs I'm into or whatever so… these are the, uh, type. Things. I guess."

Eddie is smiling, small and soft. He hasn't looked up from the track list since he turned it over.

"I'm already noticing a theme." His voice is so gentle, almost adoring, that Steve feels his face heating up. It's only worse when Eddie looks up, turning that smile directly on him. "Thanks Steve."

"Uh, yeah, no worries?" Steve bites at his nail.

"I hope you know that I'm making you one," Eddie raises an eyebrow, smirking. He slowly starts walking around him. "After I'm done with this shelf for Wayne, I'm making you one. I'm gonna rock your world, Harrington."

Steve laughs a little, hopes it doesn't sound as awkward to Eddie as it does to him. "Look forward to it."

Eddie gives him a two finger salute, turning to walk a little faster to his van.

Steve waits until he turns a corner, looking around to make sure no one can see him and doing a little fist pump.

[finntheehumaneater]

from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he  could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair. 

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer. 

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter. 

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe. 

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?” 

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on. 

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore. 

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life. 

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck. 

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning. 

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything. 

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse 

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

[fastcardotmp3]

Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.

He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.

It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.

It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.

He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.

Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.

It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.

One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.

He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.

So what does happen to Eddie Munson?

He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.

He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.

There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.

Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.

He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.

He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.

He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.

The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.

Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.

Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.

It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.

And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.

He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--

"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."

Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.

It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.

It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.

Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.

Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.

The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.

He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.

This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)

Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.

He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.

He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.

He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.

He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?

It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.

[spectrum-spectre]

I'm having steddie thoughts again

soulmate au (my achilles heel) where you see in black and white until you and your soulmate touch, then you're finally able to see in color

but ALSO - rockstar eddie and normie steve!!!

steve won the tickets for dustin through a radio giveaway, including backstage passes, and they get to be first in line for the meet and greet 👀

cue steve insisting that this is all for dustin and he doesn't wanna "ruin the moment" and embarrass him during the meet n greet because he thinks he isn't cool in comparison to a literal rock star but dustin BEGS him to come so that he won't be as nervous meeting 1 of his heros

so steve goes with to get their picture taken, (dustin is practically vibrating out of his skin with excitement) and right as the photographer tells them to smile, his arm brushes eddie's, and everything bursts into color - the exact moment they realize what happened is captured on film

honestly I've imagined a few different ways this could go: Steve goes to shake his hand right before the photo, or they brush arms, or Steve trips on the little rug mat while walking in and Eddie goes to catch him (insert Eddie making a "falling for me" joke, he's such a fucking sap)

idk I just had the vivid mental image of the photos being taken-the first one is when they make contact, the second pic is when they turn to each other with the "oh shit" looks on their faces, and the third one being them smiling/hugging/making out while dustin is LOSING IT

[momotonescreaming]

Modern au where steddie are dating long distance.

They meet online, chatting about the fanfiction that Eddie writes and Steve reads. They chat about shared interests in tv, and movies, and music. About shitty parents and coming out. And then it sort of evolves from there.

Messaging, turns into phone calls, turns in video calls, turns into racing hearts and sweaty palms when they see a notification from the other. Turns into counting down the seconds until they can open their laptops and call. Turns into hardcore longing, and pining, and whispering I like you through the screen.

They start dating.

Steve will send him messages ending in hearts and kisses. Will send him thirst trap photos he takes at the gym. Takes photos of the dinner he makes and sends it to Eddie with captions saying he's saving him a piece <3. Learns to make Eddie's favourite foods, so he can make them for him when they meet.

Eddie sends him previews of the fic he's writing. Photos of him performing with his band, sweaty and smiling. Serenades him over video call, acoustic guitar perched in his lap. Watches the basketball with Steve, each from their respective living rooms.

He wonders what it would be like if they were together. If Steve could cook him the dinner he learnt just for him, if Eddie could curl into his side as they watch the game together, Steve whispering the rules of basketball into his ear.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss Steve. To feel those plump lips on his. To taste him. His sweat, his flavoured chapstick. Would he put his hands on his waist? His jaw? Cradle his face? Would he make it slow and sweet? Or rushed and desperate? Would Steve whisper I love you into the warmth of Eddie's mouth?

But they live on opposite sides of the country.

He loves what they have. He loves having Steve. But Eddie wants what other people have. Would like to go on a date that isn't through a laptop. Would like to be able to kiss and hug and even just touch his boyfriend.