30-something, she/her
Ao3: Nameinblackandwhite Writing tag: tinawrites
Anyone with HP or Mauruders in their bio in the year 2025 is getting autoblocked, sorry, can't trust you and don't want to hear the excuses
Hello! Figured I'd put together one of these to organize myself a bit.
For each fic, links to individual writing tags will contain every post made about them, including snippets and sneak peeks
-I don't have tag lists but happy to make one for different fics. Just let me know if you want to be tagged in something
-Always enjoy being tagged in writing games
-Asks are open, feel free to drop in!
Writing tag: tinawrites
Updated as of Jan 2026
Multi-chaptered/Multi-part fics
Seizing His Happy Ending
Complete - 38k
Fairy Tale AU written for the 2025 Steddie BB, rated E
Prologue/Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6/EpilogueWriting Tag | Ao3 link
Tales of Eddierotica
Complete - 32k
"Eddie writes the world's worst erotica about characters who are just poorly disguised versions of himself and Steve. They're not dating.", rated E
Chapter 1: Pirates | Chapter 2: Vampire | Chapter 3: Aliens | Chapter 4: Prince and Stableboy | Chapter 5: Cowboys | Art
Writing tag | Ao3 link
Puppy Trio
Complete Series
Puppy play Stommedie/Stommie College AU, rated E
Part 1 B.E.G. | Part 2 B.A.D. D.O.G.
Writing Tag | Ao3 link
Mermay Series
2025 Complete Series
Making a Splash (Buckingham) | Hook, Line, & Sinker (Steddie) | Deep Seas Episode 86: A lover, not a fighter (TigerFreak/Munver) | Songs of the Heart (Steddie)
Writing Tag | Ao3 link
Running with the Devil, ongoing collaboration with little-annie
Popular Jock Eddie and Metalhead Steve Role Reversal
Part 1 (Eddie PoV) | Part 2 (Steve PoV) | Part 3 (Steve PoV) | Part 4 (Eddie PoV) |
Part 5 (Eddie PoV) | Part 6 (Steve PoV)
Writing tag | Ao3 link
(banner credits to Annie as well!)
The Microverse
Modern AU in which Eddie has a small dick and Steve loves Eddie's body as it is <3
Not Your "Cute Little Button" (Ao3 link) | Not a "Big Deal" (Ao3 link)
Soaring Symphony
Complete - 26k
Witch and Dragon Fantasy AU Steddie, rated E (Chapters 3/4 are rated E, all others are rated T)
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7
Writing tag | Ao3 link
Infernal Light
DnD AU feat. Tiefling Paladin Steve/Half-elf Bard Eddie, Ongoing Series, rated T
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Writing tag | Ao3 link
Logical Imperfection
Star Trek Steddie AU feat. Vulcan!Steve and Human!Eddie, WIP, rated M
Chapters 1 + 2 | Chapter 3
Writing tag | Ao3 link
E-rated one shots (Steddie)
Cool Whip (Ao3 link) | Three and Counting (Ao3 link)
Silver Moonlight (Ao3 link) | Free Show (Ao3 link)
Therapy (Ao3 link) | Meat Cute (Ao3 link)
Misc Microfics
Steddie Microfics - Link to drabble challenge
Writing tag | Ao3 link
STWG Daily Prompts
Writing tag | Ao3 link
The ties that bind (Ao3 link) sidekick-hero's 3333 follower event
Credits to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the dividers!
you wanna feel how it feels (let's exchange the experience) 9/?
start here | Part 8 | AO3
Rating: E (overall; T for this section) | 4.7k for this part of the chapter
Tags: Bodyswap, Friends to Lovers, Slowburn, Getting to Know Each Other, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Disabled Eddie Munson, Disabled Steve Harrington, Class Differences, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson
Summary: After the Spring Break from hell, Eddie and Steve become fast friends, with a possible hint towards something more…except they’re never quite sure what the other is actually thinking. But maybe, just maybe, walking a mile in each other’s shoes can lend them some much needed insight.
Notes: The following morning, Steve gets an abrupt awakening. Then, he and Eddie face their next big challenge: making conversation with an unsuspecting Wayne Munson.
It's been a helluva year for me so far. But I've finally found myself with some much needed free time and managed to finish the first scene of the next chapter! Since it crossed the 4k mark, I figured I might as well go ahead and share a long-awaited update. My focus is back on this fic for the summer, so hoping I'll be able to share another scene soon!
A knock on the door pulled Steve from sleep with a jerk, startled to be woken up by anything other than the sound of his own alarm clock.
“Up and at ‘em, boy!” Wayne Munson’s familiar, gravelly voice called out. “Yer ride’s here!”
As Steve blearily blinked open his eyes, it took a minute for reality to fully catch up with him. After all, it wasn't that unusual to wake up and find himself staring at the bizarrely named band posters plastered all over Eddie's walls, his prized guitar mounted beside them.
“What ride?” Steve muttered, confused, as he sat up.
Because, last he checked, he was basically the unofficial taxi service around here. At least, as far as Robin and the kids were concerned. Hell, Eddie too, now that he’d taken to bumming rides to school from Steve.
Not that Steve minded. He already had to stop by Forest Hills to pick up Max. What was one more? Eddie and Robin could make all the soccer mom, car pool jokes they liked, but he hadn’t exactly seen either of them turn down the offer to get driven around.
Steve reached up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes…and a long, dark curl fell forward, tickling his skin as it brushed against his cheek. Now fully awake, he yanked his hand back, wide-eyed as he finally registered the silver rings on his fingers, the tattooed cluster of bats flying across his pale forearm.
Realization hit him like a mack truck.
“Oh, God,” Steve groaned, collapsing back onto Eddie’s worn mattress and throwing an arm over his eyes, pressing that black inked skin close and flattening Eddie’s bangs to his forehead in the process. “Come on, seriously? It’s not over yet?”
He had totally been hoping he and Eddie would wake up this morning and everything would be back to normal. Like suffering through a–obviously pretty bizarre–24 hour head cold that ran its course, came and quickly went.
So much for positive thinking. Steve should have known better, after dealing with whatever fresh hell the Upside Down had thrown their way year after year.
Resigned to another day of Hawkins’ weirdness, he sat up and started climbing out of bed. The sudden movement made Eddie’s abdomen twinge, clearly still agitated from yesterday’s basketball game.
Steve gritted his teeth, that stinging pain stirring up visions dripping with the vivid, sticky red of Eddie’s exposed blood and bone and muscle, an aching souvenir for all the gaping wounds that the doctors had to stitch back together later.
Grimacing, he pressed a firm, soothing hand to his stomach, like he could make up for all the times he’d missed out on offering that kind of touch to Eddie himself.
You're still here, Steve thought forcefully, patting Eddie’s side. The same words Steve had comforted himself with night after night sitting by Eddie's hospital bed, waiting for him to wake up. He felt a little strange thinking them when Eddie wasn't actually in the room with him…not exactly. The scars still felt like a reminder, though.
You're still here.
That was one upside to this whole thing–Steve getting the chance to put up with the pain in Eddie’s place. It was the least he could do, really, after Eddie had sacrificed his body to protect them all.
As he stepped up to the dresser, the ache beginning to ebb away, he found himself caught up by something else entirely–the reflection of Eddie’s bare chest in the mirror. Steve couldn’t quite keep himself from staring, lips parting involuntarily.
Thanks to that shower at his place yesterday, it wasn’t like this was the first time he’d gotten up close and personal with his crush’s body since this whole thing started. Hell, before that even, given the weeks he’d spent helping Eddie out after the hospital released him.
Still, there was a luxury in being able to just…look. More than the fleeting glances he did his best to avoid. Like back when he’d often found himself on shower duty, standing just outside to make sure Eddie didn’t slip before helping him wrestle into his favorite Black Sabbath shirt, lifting his arms over his head still a struggle. And way longer than the peeks Steve currently stole any time Eddie’s shirt rode up while they sprawled out together in his bed, the metalhead’s tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration as he rolled them a joint to share.
The truth was, Steve had always been into it, watching his crushes. Not in, like, a creepy way–he wasn’t out here peeking through girls’ bedroom windows or anything, thank you very much. Even if Nancy had teased him mercilessly back when they were together, just because one time he mentioned she looked cute when she was sleeping.
He just…really liked feeling close to the people he cared about. Girlfriends, teammates, the munchkins he babysat for, his platonic soulmate of a lesbian best friend.
I mean, of course he did–who wouldn’t?
But this…this was closeness on a whole other level. Like Eddie, however unknowingly, had opened up his ribcage and let Steve crawl inside, tucked him away safe and sound beneath his skin. And Steve had done the same.
As much as it might have annoyed him that they were still stuck in Hawkins’ latest whacky predicament, Steve could admit, at least here alone in Eddie’s bedroom…a part of him liked it, too. At least a little bit.
So he let himself enjoy the opportunities their newfound intimacy opened up while he had the chance. Like being able to stare, uninterrupted, and map the dark lines of the tattoos on Eddie’s skin he’d only ever glimpsed before.
Eddie was usually so covered up in his layers upon layers, getting to see that much bare skin? Well, that was a rare treat.
So first, Steve brushed a thumb over the creepy puppet guy on the inside of Eddie’s arm, before dragging his gaze up to the spider crawling along his chest. His eyes dipped lower, then, taking in the torn impressions of some kind of demon thing–Steve only recognized the shape for what it was because Eddie had mourned its loss in the aftermath.
Eddie’s scars broke up everything, lighter than even the pale skin that surrounded, raised slightly to the touch. They matched the patches up Steve's own sides and back except tenfold, spreading across the entirety of Eddie’s stomach and chest.
Steve knew the metalhead had been shy about letting him see them, but he’d meant what he said. All the sight did was remind him how brave Eddie had been–stupidly, stubbornly, painfully brave–and, just like the twinge in his side, how lucky they were he’d made it back to them in one piece.
But Steve found himself soon distracted from the scars by the glittering nipple ring winking up at him.
The fact that he could actually feel the weight of that silver piercing, the gravity of it, as it tugged on Eddie’s remaining nipple? Was seriously trippy. The sensation alone had Steve licking at his bottom lip, fingers itching to touch it all over again.
He held off, though. It didn’t feel right, not without Eddie there. Even if they had agreed to…scratch all each other’s itches, Steve was pretty sure that wasn’t code for ‘go wild and fulfill all your secret dirty fantasies.’
But…man. He gave himself a mental pat on the back for not giving in when it was right there, tempting him like crazy.
Steve shook his head, determined to stop checking Eddie out and finally focus. “Get it together, Harrington. Jesus.”
After all…he needed to get ready for school. How Steve felt about the idea of that was pretty obvious–his annoyance written all over Eddie’s face in the mirror, nose crinkled in disgust.
Letting out a long sigh, he squared his shoulders.
As much as he dreaded sitting through another boring, endless day at Hawkins High–an experience Steve thought he had finally put in the rearview mirror for good–it was important.
Because Eddie was going to graduate this year, and there was no way in hell Steve would do anything to mess that up.
So, he got to work.
First things first–hair. While a few long strands had already wriggled out of the loose bun Steve slept in overnight, he was careful as he freed the rest of Eddie’s usually unruly locks.
Steve couldn’t help but let out a pleased giggle at the dark curls that cascaded down around him, shaking his head and making them bounce.
Apart from the face mask, the shower he’d taken at his own house yesterday had been (mostly) quick and routine. After all, with years playing sports under his belt, Steve was well-practiced at hopping in and out just long enough to get the grime and sweat off.
But once Eddie had dropped him off at the trailer last night, Steve relished the opportunity afforded to him. He’d headed straight to the bathroom to give Eddie’s hair the time and attention it really deserved–treating it to the expensive conditioner and curl defining cream he’d smuggled out of his own stash, his touch delicate as he dried each lock with an old t-shirt and not a towel.
Just that tiny bit of TLC had done the trick–Eddie’s curls were looking fuller and healthier already.
And Steve wasn’t done there.
Picking up the water bottle he’d stashed on Eddie’s dresser, he gave his hair a quick spritz. Next came the mousse, which Steve applied liberally. Honestly, it felt nice, working his fingers carefully through those long tresses, helping to shape it.
For the finishing touch, he whipped out another can of his trusty Farrah Fawcett hairspray, a foolproof method to make sure Eddie’s bangs held.
Finally flipping Eddie’s hair back into place, Steve turned his head back and forth, admiring every angle of those dark, shiny waves. Eddie would be shampoo commercial ready in no time, if Steve did say so himself.
“All they needed was the Harrington magic touch–and I’ve still got it.”
Congratulating himself on a job well done, Steve turned to the closet.
Although this was the first chance he’d had to actually dress Eddie, he still stuck pretty close to the metalhead’s signature style. Not that the messily folded stacks of concert t-shirts in various shades of black really left him that much of a choice.
Still, the dark denim jeans he pulled on were a tiny bit tighter than Eddie usually wore them. Steve recognized the pair immediately, the same ones the metalhead threw on every laundry day. He had long ago noticed they perfectly clung to what little ass Eddie had.
The Iron Maiden shirt he’d picked out was so worn, it felt ridiculously soft between his fingertips. But the way it stretched across Eddie’s chest, plus the fact the sleeves had been ripped off at the shoulders, had way more to do with Steve’s choice than anything else.
Steve pulled it over his head in a slow slide, careful not to wrench Eddie’s side or muss up his curls in the process.
Once the makeshift muscle shirt was in place, he flexed impulsively, curiosity getting the better of him. The movement made the weird little dragon dude on Eddie’s upper arm ripple in the mirror.
Steve gave Eddie’s bicep a squeeze. “Huh.”
For a guy who flailed around like such a noodle man most of the time, he was surprisingly toned.
Now dressed the part, Steve grabbed Eddie’s leather jacket and battle vest. Despite the fact that the layers were going to cover up the gun show, he shrugged both on, committed to completing the look.
The weight of the denim draped over him felt comfortingly familiar from Steve’s time tromping through the Upside Down in it, the vest his only shield.
Steve had returned it–with a tinge of reluctance, not that he was ever gonna mention that part out loud to anyone but Robin–back when Eddie got out of his stint in the hospital. A homecoming present he handed over on the drive to Eddie and his uncle’s newly commissioned trailer.
Slung over his shoulders now, the fabric still smelled so strongly of Eddie. Not that everything didn’t for Steve at the moment, what with their whole…situation.
But the mixture of Old Spice and weed smoke wafting up to his nose was practically Pavelow–Paylo–that little guy with the dog and the bell that Dustin was always going on about. It helped, basically, having it wrapped around him again. Made Steve feel…safe, if he was being totally honest.
So he kind of got it, the title it had earned, in that moment.
Battle vest.
Wearing it, Steve felt like maybe he could pull this off, get through a whole day of school as Eddie.
After snapping the last of the metalhead’s accessories into place, Steve gave himself one final once over in the mirror, smoothing down some of Eddie’s errant flyaways. The conditioner and hairspray certainly helped, but hair care and maintenance wasn’t an overnight kinda thing. It took effort, not to mention patience.
At least, Steve guessed, if they ended up stuck like this for a while, he’d have plenty of time to keep working on that.
He tried to squelch the anxiety that flared in his chest at the thought.
“Brace yourself, Harrington,” he muttered to himself, “it’s just like a big game. You just gotta…keep your head in it. At least until the clock counts down, and that final buzzer sounds.”
Steve could just imagine how annoyed his favorite metalhead would be if he could hear him.
Tainting the sound of my very own voice with sports metaphors again, Harrington!
Steve shook his head, a peel of laughter bursting out of him at the image. The force of it was so strong, Eddie’s teeth briefly flashed at him in the mirror, his dimple peeking out. It wasn’t quite Eddie’s usual cackle, but close, and, even though he hadn’t managed to get it out of his actual crush this time, the sound was still enough to send warmth spreading through him.
He seriously needed to get ahold of Dustin’s camcorder before everything was said and done. Record some of this for leverage, to tease Eddie with after the fact.
Shooting Eddie’s reflection one parting wink and a finger gun, Steve grabbed that famous lunchbox of his and went out into the hall.
As he stepped into the living room, voices pulled his attention to the kitchen.
Eddie was there already, talking animatedly with Mr. Munson as they waited for his “nephew” to join them. The older man looked on in amusement while Eddie chattered away, his gestures broad and theatrical in a way Steve’s never were.
…Well. Except for when he was majorly pissed about something, or trying his damnedest to get a point across to Robin or Dustin.
Lucky for them, Mr. Munson didn’t know Steve that well. Sure, they were friendly enough when they ran into each other at the trailer, and the way Steve’d helped out during Eddie’s recovery seemed to shake off any suspicions the older man initially seemed to have about the Harrington name. But while Eddie’s uncle had never been anything but kind to him since, they weren’t exactly buddies or anything, not close enough for him to notice if something about “Steve” seemed slightly off.
He did catch the sound of Eddie’s Reeboks, however, and turned to Steve as he crossed the small space towards them.
Mr. Munson gave him a nod, voice gruff but warm, “Mornin’, son.”
And even though the words weren’t meant for him, not really, the open, fatherly affection in them was enough to throw Steve. He was struck by the simultaneous, conflicting need to straighten up proudly and duck his head, uncharacteristically embarrassed.
That confused feeling only grew stronger when Steve saw the way Eddie’s expression faltered as his uncle’s gaze slipped away, something that had to be homesickness briefly crumpling his borrowed features.
The look made Steve’s chest ache, like Eddie’s longing was echoing inside him. He felt a flash of guilt that he’d enjoyed how warm and parental Mr. Munson sounded, even for just a second.
“Uh, yeah. Hey, Uncle Wayne,” Steve greeted awkwardly, crowding into the cramped space with them. The smile he gave Eddie came way easier. “Stevie.”
With him now in arm’s reach, Mr. Munson gave Steve’s back a warm pat. Steve stiffened, shooting Eddie a pleading look he hoped screamed, Help me out here, man! For a second, he almost wished swapping bodies had come with a bonus side effect of being able to read each other’s minds.
…Almost. Robin would probably kill him if he “combined” like that with someone other than her.
Fortunately, Eddie could read him well enough even without superpowers.
Dropping into a bow, he loudly declared, “And my greetings to you, good sir!”
Steve suppressed the urge to shake his head. Now if Eddie could just work on being subtle, they might actually get somewhere.
Mr. Munson darted a narrow-eyed look at “Steve.”
“You been hangin’ around here entirely too much.”
Steve felt as though Eddie’s heart had sunk into his stomach, choked by sudden fear. Maybe Mr. Munson hadn’t been as cool having a Harrington in his home as he’d thought.
“Been spending so much time with Ed’s startin’ to rub off on you. Spittin’ image of him, just then.”
As Wayne went to refill his coffee mug, turning away from them, Steve shot Eddie a pointed look.
Sheesh. I hope you’re happy with yourself.
He could practically hear the, Lighten up, Harrington, no need to get your undies in a twist. The old man barely even noticed, that came along with the metalhead’s answering shrug.
Maybe Steve hadn’t been that far off the mark with the whole mental link thing.
But he was quickly distracted from the thought as, now that he was closer, he fully registered what Eddie was wearing where he slouched against the Munsons’ counter.
A black polo–the darkest Steve owned, no contest, and one he had honestly completely forgotten about–with the leather bomber jacket he’d gotten at The War Zone slung over it, and a pair of dark wash jeans to tie it all together.
Steve gave Eddie a pointed once over, raising an eyebrow. “That’s…new. You, uh…definitely look a little bit different, Harrington.”
Unable to help himself, he reached forward, curling his fingers into the collar of the dark polo.
“Jesus, man, where’d you even find this?”
“Oh, what, this old thing? Ya like?” Eddie grinned, all teeth, clearly enjoying the fact that Steve couldn’t exactly call him out on it in front of his uncle. “Just a little something I dug out of the back of my closet. You know, there’s all kinds of interesting shit back there.”
He’d already had to put up with Eddie finding that stupid ass Scoops uniform. God, Steve could only imagine what other embarrassing stuff he’d dig up, snooping around his room unsupervised.
What was next? His porn stash?
Sure, he knew under his mattress wasn’t the most creative place to hide it. But Steve hadn’t exactly planned for the possibility his crush would wind up basically living in his house totally alone.
All the leather and chains in those skin mags he’d picked up on his and Robin’s gay little excursion to Indie were bound to raise a couple questions. The tips of Steve’s ears burned just picturing it.
And the devilish smirk Eddie was still sending his way? Didn’t exactly help, when it came to pumping the brakes on his runaway thoughts.
“You know, just thought I’d, uh–take a page out of your book.” Cocking his head and rocking forward on his heels, the metalhead swayed close to Steve, shooting him a wink. “What, man, don’t tell me you don’t think tall, dark, and handsome works for me?”
Steve really thought he should have been immune to Eddie invading his space, especially when he looked just like him–but the way he flustered automatically proved that wasn’t true.
“Oh, is that what you’ve been doing, boy?” Mr. Munson directed the question to Steve, looking slyly amused–probably, Steve thought, at his “nephew’s” speechlessness. “Coulda fooled me.”
Fortunately, before Steve was forced to respond–he didn’t think he had it in him to try and good-naturedly bicker with Eddie’s uncle the way the metalhead always did–Eddie offered a much needed distraction.
Because being up close and personal was clearly bringing certain things to his attention, too. In an abrupt, cartoonish show of shock, Eddie widened Steve’s eyes, the pair of them going big and round and so, so hazel in the early morning light.
He still looks like a total Bambi, Steve thought affectionately.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Eddie flailed, arms pinwheeling through the air before he finally pointed an accusatory finger at the top of Steve’s head, “What the hell’d you do to m–to your hair?”
It was Steve’s turn to preen, his smile smug. Fluffing the curls with one hand, he tossed Eddie’s hair back and forth, biting back a giggle while the metalhead gaped at him in horror.
Man, that really was as fun as girls always made it look.
“What do you think? Cuz, I gotta say…personally, I think your advice worked like a charm. I mean,” his grin turned cocky, “you are the hair care master, after all.”
Eddie spluttered in disbelief. “Christ alive, man! Like that, I–you look like some kind of uh, uh–well-groomed, yappy little lap dog!”
Mr. Munson snorted, covering up the sound quickly with a cough–although, given the coffee he’d been sipping, maybe it was only partially an act.
This time, Steve was the one gasping in outrage. “Uh, I so do not! The curls totally look pretty like this!”
Eddie’s borrowed cheeks flushed a deep crimson–whether from anger, or embarrassment, or even bashfulness, it was hard to say.
But, well…he always did say flattery worked on him. So, Steve bet on the latter and hoped for the best.
“Come onnnnn, you know you like them,” he needled, sing-song. Then, Steve hit Eddie with a lethal combination–a pout and a heavy dose of those doe brown eyes of his, well aware how irresistible they were.
Eddie barked out a disbelieving laugh. “Rest assured I know no such thing, man.”
“Seriously? You can’t pay me even one tiny little compliment after all my hard work?” He pinched his fingers together in demonstration. “I mean, I thought you, you know, gave up all that mean, high school shit and were working on being super nice now.”
Though he was partially teasing, saying the words still made Steve swallow hard.
He knew he could be plenty bitchy when he wanted to be–Robin and the kids reminded him often enough. But the truth was, Steve really was trying to do better. And–however accidental it might be on Eddie’s part–he didn’t want to leave Mr. Munson with a bad impression, end up risking the older man’s hesitant tolerance of him.
In spite of Steve’s pleading, Eddie still looked seconds from throwing a bombastic Munson tantrum–flailing arms, stomping feet, the works.
But instead, he shut his eyes tight for a brief moment, shook his head, and sucked in a deep breath.
“Yeah, well, first of all–I wasn’t that much of a dick in high school. Absolutely not so much I’ve gotta run around, constantly trying to atone for my wicked ways,” Eddie insisted, eyes blinking open to catch Steve’s, hazel meeting brown. And, like the night before when he’d said Steve didn’t compare to the Billy Hargroves and Tommy H.’s of the world, some small part of Steve, grateful and relieved, gave a flutter. “And second–you can do whatever you want with your hair, Eddie boy. No need to consult little ole me.”
Even Steve could read between those lines–Eddie’s words said one thing, but his emphasis spoke for him, loud and clear.
Mr. Munson gave a contemplative hum, expression considering. “Definitely different, son. But, s’pose you gotta try new tricks every once in a blue moon.”
The older man reached out, giving Eddie’s newly defined curls a fond ruffle. Steve managed not to dodge his hand, still feeling a swell of pride at such open, paternal support...even as his inner voice shrieked about Eddie’s uncle mussing up all his hard work.
“See?” Steve shot Eddie a pointed look. “M-my Uncle Wayne likes it.”
“So he says. But I’m pretty sure you once told me he complimented your sixth grade buzzcut, too, and we’ve all seen how that turned out. Yearbook photos tell no lies, Eds.”
“No way, it wasn’t that bad,” Steve argued, remembering the picture well. “I was a totally adorable kid, all big ears and chocolate button eyes.”
Eddie sputtered, actually rendered speechless this time. Steve watched him silently mouth chocolate button eyes, his current, far lighter eyes wide with disbelief. Mr. Munson looked between the pair of them, amusement plain on his face.
“But, uh, speaking of school…” Steve shoved up the sleeve of Eddie's leather jacket, letting out a frustrated huff when he registered that the Casio watch he’d thoughtlessly slapped on wasn’t working. Still busted, no doubt, from the involuntary dip Eddie had taken in Lover’s Lake.
Reaching out, he tugged Eddie’s arm towards him instead and checked the time.
“That’s what I thought.” Steve gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “We better get a move on. Don’t wanna risk any of us being late.”
Wayne let out an amused huff. “‘Spect that’s the first time you’ve worried ‘bout being punctual in your whole damn life, boy.”
Finally recovered, Eddie simpered, looking like a cat who’d just caught the fattest, juiciest bird.
“All my good influence, sir.” He laid a hand over his chest in mocking sincerity. “A regular Boy Scout, me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolled his eyes, steering the smirking metalhead out of the kitchen. “Let’s go, Harrington!”
But that strong, now increasingly familiar hand clapped down on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“Hold your horses there, boy,” Mr. Munson said, quiet but firm. “Lemme talk to ya for a second.”
Steve shot Eddie a panicked look, but the expression Eddie sent back was equally as helpless. Still, he took his final, reluctant steps out onto the porch, having been plainly dismissed from whatever private father-son chat Eddie’s uncle had in mind.
Only years of practice kept Steve from shifting on his feet uncomfortably under Mr. Munson’s careful, measured stare, the older man looking him over from head to toe. Countless memories washed over him, the many times he’d been called into his father’s office for a reprimanding just out of the sight of his friends playing through his mind on a loop.
“Now, son, I’ve never said nothin’ about how you fix your hair, and I don’t intend to start. But…” Mr. Munson cast a quick glance toward the trailer’s closed front door, “don’t go changin’ to suit somebody else, ya hear? Just keep on bein’ you. For the right sorta person–that’ll be plenty enough.”
Steve got it, better than he ever had before. Why Eddie had always marched to the beat of his own drum–why he felt like he could. Having somebody else in your corner, ready to defend your choices, no matter what the outside world might say or think? It felt…really nice, even if he was just borrowing the feeling for a while. After all, Mr. Munson’s pep talk was for Eddie, not him.
“No, no way I will,” Steve hurriedly assured him. “I promise.”
And that was a promise he felt sure of making, even if he was doing it on the other boy’s behalf. After all, who could Eddie even want to change for? Nobody came to mind.
“Good man.” With a nod, Mr. Munson gently herded Steve out onto the porch. “Now go on, git. And take care, boys. Try not to land in any hot water.”
Eddie threw an arm around Steve’s shoulders, grin shit-eating. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you, Mr. Munson. As the golden boy of Hawkins, I consider it my sworn duty to help a citizen in need.”
“Oh my God, dude, shut up,” Steve complained, giving him a shove.
Shaking his head at their antics, Mr. Munson gave the pair a final wave, then let the door shut behind him.
Taglist below! As always, if you’d liked to be added or removed, please just let me know:
june prompt: pride | wc: 481 | rated: G | tags: eddie reflects on past mistakes and lessons learned, post vecna - everybody lives, established relationship | also on ao3
If Eddie had to name his own most toxic trait, it would have to be the false sense of pride he's worn like an armour for years. This performative act of freakish superiority that carried him over the table tops of the high school cafeteria, presenting his personal agenda as the only valuable truth in condemnation of society's conformity doctrine.
The pride of being a herder to his flock of lost sheep, a leader to all those young, susceptible minds that would've followed him blindly because they believed in him to have it all figured out. Believed that he'd always look out for them, watching over them from high up the pedestal he'd built on the lies he kept telling himself.
A pride that nearly cost him everything. First his freedom when he ran instead of asking for help, then again when he didn't run and almost paid with his life for it, overconfidently ignoring his limits and fears when he should've accepted his weakness.
He's learned his lessons, most of them unwillingly, has the physical and emotional scars to remind him whenever he threatens to slip back into old patterns.
He still finds it hard sometimes not to let his pride get in the way of his happiness, is still learning to accept these new truths life taught him.
You can be a cog in a machine and still fight for what's right; you don’t have to do it alone.
People can enjoy stupid ball games and be a nerd at the same time.
Heroism isn't defined by strength or status or age, it's what you do when push comes to shove.
Friendship comes in all shapes and colours and sizes. From the bossy little girl that has more courage in her little finger than any soldier wielding a gun. Over the curly haired teen whose heart is even bigger than his brains. Right to the guy Eddie always wanted to hate on principle but fell hard and fast for once he allowed himself to really get to know him.
"What are you thinking about?" Steve's voice filters through Eddie's thoughts, pulling him back from wherever he drifted off to.
"Hm? Oh, um, just- how lucky I am."
It's not the whole truth but it’s part of it. Because Eddie is lucky to have been found by this group of mismatched characters he couldn't imagine his life without now. Especially the man in his arms, who keeps him grounded while simultaneously lifting him up to the greatest heights.
"Because you have me?" Steve teases, smiling against Eddie's lips when he kisses him.
"Because you make me a better person," Eddie agrees and pulls Steve back against his chest, letting his fingers glide over bed-warm skin.
"You make me a better person, too," Steve whispers back, sleepy and content, and it makes Eddie's chest swell.
After becoming friends with Steve, Robin told Eddie two words: “good luck.”
He didn’t understand it at first until he watched Steve going on failed dates after failed dates, or watching a short relationship end in a terrible break-up and Steve moping around.
Eddie didn’t want to count how many times he’s seen Steve’s heart break.
So now he’s on a mission: keep Steve from dating.
He’s ruining every opportunity Steve gets for dates, making plans with him almost every weekend and after a while, Steve stops asking girls out and Eddie feels accomplished.
At least, he did until Steve kissed him goodbye after movie night and now Eddie’s so fucking confused.
Eddie Munson's Guide to Demons, Hellhounds, and Other Minions of Satan
@steddiebbang project #013
Time to reveal my project for the 2026 Steddie Big Bang! Excited to work with tombfiends and @drwhoisginnyholmes this year, it's gonna be a blast.
Rating: M
Estimated Word Count: 10-15k
Relationships: Steve/Eddie, Steve & his parents, Eddie & Steve's parents, Eddie & the CC Boys, Steve & Dustin
Characters: Dan [Mr.] Harrington, Olivia [Mrs.] Harrington, the CC Boys, Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley
Tags: Humor, Misunderstandings, Steve Harrington Has Good Parents, Catholic Wayne, D'art Lives, 'Demon' Steve Harrington, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Eddie Munson is Oblivious and Bisexual, Bisexual Steve, Steve is Eddie's Bisexual Awakening, Aftermath of Starcourt, S5 Doesn't Happen Don't Worry About It, Minor Canon Divergence from S2 Onwards
Summary:
After El closes the inter-dimensional gate to the Upside Down in November 1984, D'art doesn't perish thanks to the protective powers of sugar. He goes on to form a bond with his new 'pack' of humans and continues to evolve in unexpected ways. The demodog eventually comes under the primary ownership of Steve Harrington. Steve, recovering from his severe concussion and without sports to keep him occupied, is still in search of a friend who isn't thirteen years old.
Enter Eddie Munson. Eddie's second senior year is supposed to be devoted to important things like figuring out how to break the spirits of the newest members of Hellfire with a diabolical 50-foot tall goose-dragon, or passing Kaminsky's next test for once. But that's before he comes across the fallen king of Hawkins High and his pet hellhound. And what is Eddie supposed to do with the information that Steve Harrington is apparently a demon in disguise besides figure out what the guy's diabolical intentions in the middle of nowhere Indiana are? He clearly has no choice but to undergo an undercover mission and befriend Steve, all while resisting his hellish charms as the two of them grow closer.
or:
Four times Eddie Munson is convinced Steve Harrington has to be a demon, and one time he finds out the much weirder truth
Enjoy a snippet below the cut!
February 1985
Two albums (filled with music that Eddie would never admit to finding catchy) later, Steve finally got up to use the bathroom.
Eddie sprung up and put his totally not all that ill-conceived plan into action, pulling out his canteen filled with the finest and holiest of waters Our Lady of Perpetual Mercy had to offer. Or more accurately, the finest water Eddie could pilfer while Wayne was busy talking to the priest outside, but that was fine. This was in service to ensuring the devil couldn't walk among them at full power!
Steve had left his glass of water sitting there completely defenseless and half-full on his desk, so Eddie gulped it down as fast as he could and replaced it with his contraband H₂O. Surely this would prove his theories correct at last. Worst case Steve's human shell would melt off and he'd head back to hell for a little unexpected leave time.
When he returned, Steve took a sip and…nothing happened. He smacked his lips a couple times, scratched his stomach, then went right back to his spot at the top of the bed without a care in the world.
Goddammit!
You know, now that Eddie thought about it, maybe the anti-evil properties of holy water were lost when one committed a sin to obtain it. Perhaps it had to be freely distributed to the masses during Mass. Plus, Wayne had been thrilled he'd wanted to go on Sunday for once. The power of a disappointed father figure could really mess with the aura given off by the…water. And Jesus. Or something.
Regardless of any higher authority's opinion on the subject, Eddie was back to square one once again.
i think we should be ridiculing them more for this. you don't get to try and go all "queer website" when your staff likes to go on nuking sprees targeting the trans fem users
would be remiss not to mention that the rainbow notably straight up just removed the trans flag colors from it. like they’re gone. it’s the progress flag minus the trans flag colors.
Put in the tags the completely finished (whether cancelled or wrapped up on its own terms) TV series that has YOUR perfect ending, however you define that
Please don’t include huge spoilers for the specifics of the endings, and it would also make me happy if people don’t use this to talk about the shows whose endings they hated
yeah yeah rainbow capitalism is bad and whatever but like. when I was a child, being pro gay was not the popular or lucrative choice. I'm happy that times have changed.
I miss rainbow capitalism. I do. I miss when it felt like public opinion was still pro gay. I understand it was always an empty gesture, but it mattered in a sense of knowing how socially acceptable being queer is. If that makes sense.
The natural occurrence of Steddie, Eddie sinks back against Steve's arm where it rests on the back of the couch, rolling his head into a firm shoulder before stiffening as he realises how intimate this feels. Where Steve lifts his eyebrows in alarm and holds his breath, not because there's Eddie (a man) tucked under his arm, leaning into his shoulder like he belongs there, but because he thinks Eddie is about to pull away.
It's a moment of tension that nobody else picks up on (except maybe Robin), where Eddie waits for Steve to reject him like they always do and Steve waits for Eddie to leave like they always do. But then Steve's fingers curl against Eddie's shoulder, bracing him as he turns his head and rubs the line of his jaw against Eddie's hair, an affectionate reassurance.
I kind of love the idea of neither of them considering men before but also neither of them freaking out about it. Steve has dated girls, Eddie kissed his best friend and got pure rejected and the only other girl he liked is dead (or just Very Injured) and he got blamed for it.
But Steve's arm feels nice around him and it isn't so bad when Eddie turns his body a little and tucks in even closer, nuzzling Steve's shoulder because christ he could use the comfort right now and Steve seems so happy to give it.
Nobody even says anything as discussions continue, they definitely get a few furtive looks, completely missing the sudden bewilderment that crosses Dustin's face.
Steddie just Exist now, Eddie survives, somehow gets cleared whilst in hospital, and it's when Steve is sat quietly by his bedside with Wayne that Dustin finally barrels in, mouth open ready to speak before he looks at Wayne "oh hi Mr Munson..." then sits quietly until Wayne gruffly says he's got to head to work.
Steve assures him he'll hold the fort, Dustin nods enthusiastically, waits about 5 seconds after Wayne leaves before darting for the door and closing it.
It's the first time Dustin's been alone with Steve since Everything Happened, so naturally Dustin starts ranting.
"I can't believe I didn't see it, it all makes sense now, the hostility, the refusal to come to D&D, the slew of failed 'dates', the way you both are always unavailable on the same nights."
"Dustin, what are you talking about?"
"You and Eddie!" he gestures where Steve's hand is almost touching Eddie's on the bed, where he'd been holding Eddie's hand at one point even under Wayne's watchful gaze. "This whole time! And I get it, I understand, you probably wanted to tell me, but you were scared I wouldn't understand the gay thing, or that I wouldn't like him. OH! You probably told him to look out for me, Lucas, and Mike! Dude, you didn't need to do that," Dustin rambles, Steve watches in confusion and he's very happy that Eddie's already had his brief dalliance into consciousness this afternoon and isn't being subjected to this.
"But he's great, totally approve, actually you're batting above your station a little, man, but aren't we all?" he pauses and sighs wistfully, muttering something about Suzie, before nodding with a determined look on his face and pulling Steve into a very awkward "hug of approval".
It takes Steve way too long to realise Dustin thinks he and Eddie have been together for months, hell he realises it as they're sneaking a kiss, pulling back looking mildly horrified as he whispers it across the air between them.
Eddie laughs so hard his Everything hurts, and he is fully in favour of pretending Dustin is right to wind the party up for never noticing.
Eddie thinks it odd that it seems like he's the only one who remembers that Steve was bullied in middle school. Watched it happen in the hallways, as he was a year ahead of him. Steve was scrawny, had braces, and was called "Headpiece Harrington".
It only took the summer before Steve entered Hawkins High to turn it all around. He'd had a growth spurt, had his braces removed, and got absolutely plastered at a party (that Tommy convinced him to throw in his big, empty, house.)
It was like everyone else forgot there was a version of Steve that even existed before he was King Steve, but Eddie never did. Could never forget a lost sheepie.
written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June microfic challenge
prompt: knot | wc: 586 | pov eddie | rated: T | tags: pre steddie, background robin/chrissy, eddie has a crush on steve, subtle flirting, eddie hates camping - until steve changes his mind | also on ao3
Eddie made a lot of bad choices in his life but this one might be his worst yet. Letting Chrissy talk him into a fucking camping trip with Buckley and Harrington, a whole damn weekend spend out in the wild, sleeping in tents and all, ugh.
There's a reason why Wayne looked at him like he'd grown a second head when he told him about the trip, knowing too well that his nephew is not made for the outdoors. They tried that once, when Eddie was 12, and agreed to never do it again for both their sakes.
He should’ve stuck by that, but here he is now, sitting uncomfortably on a log, swatting at mosquitoes, feeling bored and itchy and useless. He offered to help the girls get the cooler from the van (‘No, Eddie. We do not have to hunt or fish for food,’ thank fucking god for that!) but got the hint when Chris said they're fine on their own.
So he sits there and mopes, watching Steve pile up twigs and newspaper scraps to build a fire, and as much as he hates to admit it, is impressed by how quickly he gets it started.
"Where d'you learn that?" he asks honestly curious, his heart skipping a beat when Steve turns to him with a proud, gorgeous smile.
"Oh, uh. Summer camp. When I was 13," he replies and shrugs it off like it's nothing.
Of course. Fucking rich kids and their fucking fancy Summer time activities.
"My parents went on a trip to Paris and didn't trust me to stay home alone."
No, actually? Fuck Steve's parents for going on vacation without him.
"What, like, some boy scout thing or something? Where they teach you how to tie knots and stuff?" Eddie jokes and Steve laughs, says "Yeah. Something like that."
Seemingly satisfied with his work, Steve takes his attention away from the steadily crackling fire and sits down beside Eddie.
"Had my first kiss there, too," he fake-whispers, leaning in like he's sharing a secret the trees and birds around them aren't supposed to hear.
Eddie's ears are burning, but it's definitely from the heat of the fire, not because Steve is suddenly so close now, their knees are touching.
"Oh, really? Did you sneak into the girls' quarters at night?" Eddie laughs weakly, feeling just a tiny bit jealous for reasons he’s not willing to give any thought right now.
"Hell no!” Steve huffs out, “The counsellors threatened to put anyone they caught breaking the rules on cleaning duty. Do you know how nasty the wash rooms were? Scarred me for life, man." Steve shakes his head and scrunches his nose in disgust, then his lips curl up into a cheeky grin. "Luckily, I didn't have to sneak out." Steve winks at him and it takes Eddie a second to get what he’s implying. "His name was Alex."
Oh, okay. Yep. That’s- great.
"Sounds like you had a lot of fun," Eddie says, acting casual when on the inside, he's having a minor (major) crisis.
"Mhm, yeah. Learned a lot at camp."
Steve stands, picking up some logs to feed the fire with, looking back over his shoulder when he suggests, "I could show you, while we're here."
Eddie swallows roughly.
He has the sinking feeling Steve is not talking about showing him how to start a fire, or how to tie a knot.
And suddenly, the thought of sharing a tent with him doesn't seem so horrible anymore.
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.
