I really just like the concept of Eddie being Steve and Robin's boss. I think about it all the time and it's funny every goddamn time.
They do not respect his authority at all. They're asking him when he became the authority? They're asking, "What happened to fighting the system, man? You sold out."
It's that time of year again! I am once again participating in @steddiebbang and we're allowed to announce our projects!
This year, I'm doing a movie fusion/crossover based on Crossroads, the 1986 Ralph Macchio movie in which he breaks an aging musician out of a nursing home, hitchhikes down to the deep south and duels the devil’s personal guitar player. Featuring Eddie as the music student looking for a little more in life, Wayne as his uncle with a mysterious past, and Steve as one of the nurses working in Wayne's assisted living facility.
Very excited to be working with @arelliann and @ilyre-p to bring this one to life. More information on the fic below!
Rating: Mature
Estimated Word Count: 50,000-55,000 words
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Eddie Munson & Wayne Munson
Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Wayne Munson, Vecna/Henry Creel, Minor or Background Character(s)
Content Warnings: Health Issues Typical of an Aging Character, Period-Typical Homophobia, Minor Instances of Police Corruption and Attempted Sexual Assault, Mentions of Gun Violence
Tags: Alternate Universe - No Upside Down, Movie Crossover, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Supernatural Elements, Music, Hitchhiking, Road Trip, Forced Proximity, Developing Relationship, College Student Eddie Munson, Nurse Steve Harrington, Hopeful Ending
art by @digrupert
betaing by @ghostintheclawmachine
coming this fall! date to come
I'm so excited to finally announce my project for @steddiebbang 2026, and reveal the incredible team I'm going to get to work with!
DEMOLITION
Rated E
est. 30-40k
contemporary AU, demolition derbies, rivals to lovers, one-sided rivalry, plot with porn, a hint of Appalachian Eddie
warnings for minor-moderate racism, misogyny, and homophobia; some blood and threat of serious injuries
Eddie's been driving demolition derbies since he was sixteen, and has built himself up a reputation: not just the guy with the gimmick of wrecking and rebuilding and wrecking old hearses, but a damn good driver and a great show. The Roane County Fair Hawkins Crash is his new white whale: the past two years he's won the title of Mad Dog—audience favorite, best show, craziest driver—but he's just missed first. But he just knows this is his year.
He's prepared for most everything except for the sponsor's rich, spoiled asshole of a son to be participating. (He's even less prepared for Steve Harrington to be a good driver, a great fuck, and maybe even a genuinely likeable person.)
Rivals to lovers and dirt and rust and car crashes, and not every car crash is a sex allegory, but a lot of the car crashes are a sex allegory. The sex is definitely a car crash allegory.
Excerpt:
The sun's going down and the floodlights have been turned on, turning the soft golden hour light into something harsh and stark. Despite his helmet and mouth guard, Eddie can still taste dirt and iron between his teeth from the constant clods of mud kicked up by the tires. The arena is filled with the stench of exhaust and oil and gas, burnt rubber and the ozone sharpness of metal grinding against metal.
Beneath Eddie, Corroded Coffin wheezes and gutters, the hearse on its last legs. She can't take many more hits. She struggles to turn right, and the brakes grind, and the body is dented in enough that his left elbow constantly rubs against the quilt strapped to the driver's side door as makeshift padding.
Across the arena, Harrington's Chrysler Imperial has lost all of it's polish and shine, paint ground off, scraped through, coated in mud, though the light still catches on the sheen of lingering glitter. Eddie can't see his face at this distance, cast in shadow, even staring straight down the barrel. But he can hear the engine roar.
A head-on collision is stupid. It's a good way to trash your car and knock yourself out of the running. But.
Eddie's heart pounds and his blood sings and every fiber of his body screams at him to drive his car directly into, against, through, Harrington's, until mangled metal twists together and you can't tell where one body starts and another ends.
They're the last men standing. And a head-on hit always makes for a good show.
I like the idea of steddie trying on each other's clothes as a fun surprise or a sexy thing and them being like, "ugh, ew. No."
Steve shows up to band practice in black skinny jeans, eye liner, a black leather jacket, and one of Eddie's band shirts. Eddie's eyes go huge but not in a good way. He can't help the way his nose scrunches up in distaste. "Please go put on a polo and a puffer jacket this is not my boyfriend."
Eddie tries to dress nicely for some event, maybe a work thing for Steve, but instead of doing it his own way, he just raids Steve's closet. He's wearing a white button up under a beige sweater, light wash jeans, and his hair in a slick bun. Steve immediately pulls a face like he wants to be sick and makes Eddie at least take off the sweater and undo some buttons so at least he can roll up the sleeves and show off his tattoos.
They love each other exactly as they are and don't want the other to change for them at all.
They both get horny if the other borrows Robin's clothes, though, which is why they are both banned from her closet.
It's finally time to reveal my project for this year's Steddie Big Bang! If you are into tattoo shop AUs and fix it fics (and the idea of Steve Harrington with a massive back tattoo), this one is for you!
I will be working with the incredible @sammichtastic (for the second year in a row, can you believe it???) and I can't WAIT to see the amazing art they will create for this!!!
Summary and snippet under the cut
COVER (verb)
1: to guard from attack
2: to hide from sight or knowledge
3: to lay or spread something over
- - - - -
Eddie knows all about scars.
How they go deeper than your skin. How they remind you of things you wish you could forget, and how they can turn every look in the mirror into a test of courage. How to turn them into something beautiful - each tattoo an affirmation of power written in ink, pain and blood; a refusal to let things that can't be undone define you.
What Eddie doesn't know is how to stay out of things he shouldn't get involved in.
There's a million different reasons why he should turn Steve away. Because the size of the motif he wants is ambitious at best for a first tattoo, and borderline insane at worst. Because something about his story just doesn't add up. Because he is exactly the kind of man that brings Eddie dangerously close to the edge where professionalism ends and obsession begins.
But Steve has been living with those scars for over ten years, and his body is the most intriguing canvas Eddie has seen in a while. As they set out to reclaim Steve's story, Eddie finds his obsession growing deeper with every drop of ink. Especially when it turns out that their past, present and future are more closely entwined than either of them imagined.
- - - - -
A story about covering scars, uncovering secrets, and recovering what was lost.
“Did you know,” he says, carefully peeling the wrapping paper off his snack, “that if things had gone a little different, we might have been neighbors, you and I?”
Steve, who has just taken his first bite, makes a quizzical noise.
“As I learned today,” Eddie explains, “my uncle almost moved us to Hawkins when I was a kid. Crazy shit, isn't it? We would've gone to school together, maybe even shared some- Fuck, are you okay?”
Steve just broke into a round of big, violent coughs. Eddie is by his side in an instant, hand raised, but hesitates at the sight of the fresh outlines on his back. They're lightly raised, the surrounding skin irritated and angry, and slapping him between the shoulder blades would hurt like a bitch now. On the other hand, he can't very well let the guy choke, right?
He is just trying to remember how the Heimlich actually works when Steve straightens in his chair, balls his hand into a fist and delivers a very firm, very well-aimed hit to his own sternum. There’s an audible pop as something dislodges from his windpipe.
“I'm okay,” he claims, still more than a little breathlessly. “Sorry, that was- … I was just- … Are you for real?”
“I, um-” Eddie stammers. His legs feel like jelly, so he quickly falls back into his own chair. “Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t mean to- … I just thought it was funny. How life has brought us together, here and now, when we could've known each other that much sooner. I don't necessarily believe in fate and all that shit, but it seems like a crazy coincidence.”
“Not sure about fate,” Steve says, and takes another, more careful bite of his granola bar. A smattering of crumbs is sticking to his bottom lip. “But if it's real, you should thank it. You wouldn't have wanted that.”
“To know you any earlier?”
Steve scrunches his nose, slightly annoyed, and shakes his head.
“Shut up, that's not what I meant.” He pauses, running his tongue over his lips and leaving them pink and shiny. It doesn’t get the crumbs. “You may be right, though. Not sure if you would've liked teenage me. I was a bit of a jock.”
“What, you? Shocking,” Eddie deadpans. “You grew up to be a coach. I just inked a giant baseball bat all over your back. Let's just say I had a bit of a hunch.”
Steve smiles wryly, washing down the last of his snack with a long gulp of water.
“What I’m trying to say is that you should be glad you weren’t around for- … everything. Don’t get me wrong, I love it there. It's my home, and some of the best people I’ve ever known live there, it’s just … It wasn’t a great place to be, back then. You dodged a bullet, man. A big, fat, massive one, believe me.”
In the two or three seconds of silence that follow, Eddie almost asks. About the earthquake. About the tanks and the fences and the watch towers. About the meaning behind the fresh lines on Steve’s back, that he chose to carry with him for the rest of his life. About the scars underneath.
But then Steve claps his hands and gives a sharp jerk of his chin. Eddie flinches, wondering briefly if this is how he beckons his players onto the pitch before a game.
“Okay, that’s enough for a break. Time for the home stretch, c’mon.”
“See?” Eddie grins, wheeling himself closer. “There you go with the sports metaphors again.”
Steve drifts off again after a minute or two, the deep and deliberate breaths he’s taking to guide himself through the pain slowly evening out into something slower, more shallow. When Eddie checks in the mirror, his eyes have slipped shut. Not asleep, but definitely somewhere far away. It’s for the better, probably. The tailbone is a bitch to get inked, even for people more familiar with the sensation of the needle slipping in and out of their flesh, the rattle of the machine against bone, the echo of it in one’s ribcage. And no matter the odd fascination that Eddie is developing with both the town of Hawkins and this man, who chose to spend his life there after the horrible things it did to him, it’s not his story to uncover.
Still, as he works in silence, his eyes keep travelling back to the scars on Steve’s shoulder blades, now surrounded by the outlines of the roses, waiting to be covered in vibrant reds and greens in four weeks’ time. He has seen scars like that before. On bikers who got into accidents, skin peeled right off their bones as man and machine slid over the unforgiving asphalt. On a guy, once, who got his jacket caught in the door of the school bus as a kid, and was dragged over several yards of concrete before the driver heard his screams.
He wonders how exactly Steve ended up with injuries like that in an earthquake.
The ones on his hips, too. The deep, uneven ones that look like something long and sharp and jagged dug into the flesh and tore it right out.
He bites his tongue and keeps working.
It's not like it's any of his business.
He's here to do his goddamn job, which is to make sure that Steve can look at himself in the mirror again and actually like what he sees. And digging into the wounds of the past just to satisfy his own curiosity won't help with that. Not one tiny bit.
Steve casually saying that it's super easy to make friends and Eddie loudly cutting in to ask why Steve doesn't have any friends then, "You eat lunch in your car ever since Wheeler dumped you for Byers."
This not only embarrassed Steve but also pissed him off so he's now dedicating himself to befriending all of Eddie's friend and turning them against him.
Do we really know Steve isn't into metal though? He definitely likes rock, and I love the HCs where he just doesn't know who he's listening to half the time which would gel with the "Ozzy who?" moment.
Eddie fully expecting the standard Normie reaction to his music the one time he's "permitted" to play his own cassettes in Steve's car, Steve looking puzzled as he listens before shrugging and carrying on driving.
It's not a negative reaction, +1 for Harrington apparently, but as they drive he keeps getting that little puzzled look on his face, and Eddie's starting to suspect Steve is fighting the urge to be a bitch about it, he's heard about his "trying" from the others.
He's not going to back down if Steve picks a fight over it, Eddie will defend his music to the death if he has to, so he's ready to bite back when Steve finally opens his mouth.
"Is this a new one?" not what he was expecting,
"huh?"
"The tape, is it a new one? I swear I know the voice but... I don't know the songs, is it new?"
"You've heard Black Sabbath before?"
"Is this that Ozzy guy then?" it's not, it's Ronnie James Dio, but that Steve remembered that is Interesting, that he recognises the music is more interesting.
"What songs do you know?" he asks, suspicious, Steve must be bullshitting him, there's no way.
"I dunno... that uh... one that—" he stops and starts 'da-na-na-na'ing Stargazer of all things,
for @steddiesongfics microfic may challenge, based on 'orbiter' by noah kahan
rated t | 555 words | no cw | tags: possibly unrequited love, but not actually unrequited love, friends to lovers, first kiss, post-vecna
🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑
The house is quiet tonight. Robin's on a date, her fifth or sixth with the same woman. Eddie's on a date, too. Another random person he met at the bar. Steve's lost count of the amount of first dates he has that end in him spending the night with someone he'll never see again. He isn't judging, he's just...heartbroken.
Because it didn't take long after they left Hawkins for Steve to realize that the protectiveness he felt towards Eddie, the racing of his heart and warmth in his stomach when they touched, the sinking in his gut when Eddie talked about being with someone else, meant he had much more than just friendly feelings for the man. He thought it was a proximity crush, as Robin so kindly put it when he talked to her about it.
"He's the only person other than me that you spend a lot of time with. You just need to get out there!"
But he tried that. He went on a few dates with women. One with a guy who played guitar in a band and had long curly hair, but didn't shine nearly as bright as Eddie. He hasn't tried again since that one went pretty badly.
He's alone with his thoughts, eating leftover pasta from the dinner he made with Eddie the night before. It was a new recipe that Eddie insisted on trying, and then ended up not liking it nearly as much as Steve. That's how it usually goes.
Steve smiles to himself at the memory of Eddie's hands on his hips, gently moving him out of the way every time he needed to get into a cabinet or drawer for something. He doesn't stop smiling as he remembers the way Eddie sat on the counter to steal bites of the pasta before Steve had it in bowls, convincing him he needed to make sure it was done before it was served.
The smile drops when he remembers Eddie telling him about his date while they washed dishes.
He knows he needs to be honest with Eddie about his feelings. Maybe it will ruin everything, or maybe it won't. He just needs to know one way or another.
He's here because Eddie needed to get out. He's stayed because he loves Eddie too much to leave.
He's stuck in his orbit and he has no idea if he even wants to be out of it.
---
He startles awake when the door slams closed. Steve sits up and wipes his eyes, trying to get them to focus.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you up," Eddie says from next to the couch. "Why aren't you in bed?"
"Tried waiting up for you," Steve yawns. "Date go okay?"
Eddie snorts. "I'm here, aren't I?"
Do it now, Steve.
"Hungry?" Steve asks instead.
"Only if there's cereal."
Steve huffs a laugh and stands. "I can get you some."
While he eats, Eddie recounts every terrible moment of the date. Steve laughs along, unable to hide his amusement at how shitty it was.
"Gotta be a reason these dates suck, right?"
Steve takes a deep breath.
"Yeah." He leans in close. "Gotta be."
He finally kisses him.
Because if he's gonna lose Eddie either way, he wants to know what he'll be missing.
Eddie coming out to Steve as a show of trust but then takes every opportunity to assure him he’d absolutely never try anything with him. Until eventually Steve just snaps “okay I GET IT I’m disgusting to you we don’t have to keep talking about it”
so what if one time while Dustin was staying back a bit late at hellfire to help clean up because his momma raised him right, he's about to leave when Eddie stops him,
"Hey, idiot don't forget your dice." and he tosses the pouch at Dustin, who barely catches it because he's an unathletic loser. He scoffs and smiles anyway, "Thanks dad."
Before Eddie can process that, Dustin walks out, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd even said the D-word. Eddie stands there for way longer than he should, circling through pride, affection, and offense because he is NOT old enough to be a father!
A few weeks go by, Eddie pretty much forgets about it and chooses not to bring it up, because despite what everyone thinks, he isn't the biggest douchebag in the word. (He still is one of course but not the biggest!) Eddie forgets about it until another hellfire session is over, but Dustin took a little too long, and Steve Harrington comes marching into the school.
"Dude, I told you to be quick today! I promised Max and Lucas I'd take them to the movies!" The perfectly styled brunette started to scold, Eddie found himself a little hot under the collar as he glanced between Dustin and his much taller, much more attractive friend.
Dustin rolled his eyes, "Okay, okay, jesus, you're such a nag, mom." He added the "mom" mockingly, Harrington didn't even bristle. "I'm flattered to be compared to your mother, now move your ass." He demanded, dragging Dustin away by his bag.
Eddie was once again, stuck standing there for a little longer than he should've, before his feet were suddenly moving and he burst into the parking lot and luckily, somehow, Harrington and Dustin weren't in their cars yet.
"Henderson called me dad once!" He shouted over at them, a little out of breath. "If you're his mother I think I owe you a date! Or at least child support!" He called, giving Harrington a sharp grin even though a part of him was horrified at his own actions.
Dustin looked ten times more horrified than Eddie felt, but Steve just turned, glanced Eddie over, and paused. "That can be arranged." He smirked a little before getting in his car, Dustin followed, and even over the engine starting Eddie could hear the kid screeching about dignity or something.
They drove away but Eddie's heart was pounding louder than them turning out of the parking lot.
Eddie is not dumb enough and he respects Wayne too much to sell drugs out of his living room.
Despite this, Steve Harrington keeps showing up at his door to buy. He always insists that Eddie roll his joints and then insists they smoke one together so he knows Eddie isn't trying to sell him oregano or some shit.
They smoke. Steve gets too high. And then Steve accused him of wanting him to die in a car accident when Eddie tried to get him to leave, "I’m under the influence and you want me to operate a motor vehicle? You want me to kill myself? Kill me yourself if you want me to die so bad."
"I don't want-"
"Can't believe you want me to die. You-"
"Fine!" Eddie says like he says every time. "You can stay until you're sober. Christ."
"Okay."
Steve immediately gets up, walks down the hall, and face plants into Eddie's bed where he will be until he disappears in the morning.