steviesummer

[steviesummer]

Eddie rambles a lot and no one can change my mind.

Does it make sense all the time? No. Does Steve care? Not at all.

[steviesummer]

delay on the runway

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘delay’

rated t | 408 words | no cw | tags: modern au, rockstar Eddie, lawyer Steve, strangers to lovers (implied), open ending but assume they’re gonna be deeply in love by the end of the flight, first meetings

🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️🛩️

“We’re sorry for the delay. They’re quite backed up on the runway, but we should be on our way in the next ten minutes.”

The pilot’s voice is loud over the speaker, but Steve’s grateful to hear it. They’ve been sitting on the tarmac for almost 30 minutes after a two hour delay before boarding. He’s already missed his connection and he just hopes that whatever hotel he spends the night in has hot water and decent snacks.

“Nervous about the flight?” The guy next to him asks.

He’s definitely not who Steve usually ends up next to in first class, that’s for sure. Long hair, torn jeans and hoodie, dark circles under his eyes, tattoo just visible on his neck. Steve’s buttoned shirt and slacks look comical next to him.

“Not really,” he answers. “Frequent flyer. Just missed my connection. Won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon now.”

The man nods, gives him a very charming smile, and puts his headphones in.

Just when Steve thinks they’ll go back to ignoring each other, the guy speaks again.

“Normally, I take the band plane. My uncle needed an emergency surgery and he’s a stubborn old man and refused a temporary aid so I had to fly home and make sure he didn’t try to lift his body weight or anything. And then the weather made it so only commercial flights could come and go and I have to be New York by seven in the morning. Which is hopefully happening now, but who knows.”

Steve blinks at the guy.

“Eddie. Sorry, should’ve started there.”

Steve laughs. “Steve. Is your uncle doing okay?”

Eddie’s mouth opens, he removes his headphones, and laughs. “Sorry. You’re asking about my uncle?”

“Yeah…you said he needed emergency surgery,” Steve explains, biting his lip. His hearing’s not great over the plane engines, but it can’t be that bad. “Right?”

“I did. It’s just, I figured the band plane part would grab your attention more.”

“I’ll get to it,” Steve winks. “But your uncle. He’s okay?”

Eddie nods. ���He’s better than expected. Thanks.”

“For?”

“Asking. What’s got you in first class, Steve?” Eddie removes his headphones as he turns his body towards him, grinning ear to ear.

“I was supposed to be traveling with a client,” Steve gestures to Eddie’s seat. “He has to travel tomorrow instead. Now I have you.”

“Lucky me.”

Eddie’s eyes bore into Steve’s as he smirks.

“I’m feeling pretty lucky myself.”

[steviesummer]

There’s a knock at his door and Eddie opens it to - “Ahoy, sailor.”

“Yeah, yeah, yuck it up,” Steve rolls his eyes, gesturing to his sailor uniform. “I look dumb. Do you have weed?”

He doesn’t actually and won’t until Rick gets some tomorrow but - “Not to sell, but you can smoke some of mine with me.”

“…or I can buy it off you?”

“No can do, sailor,” Eddie grins. “This is your only option.”

“Fine.”

Fifteen minutes later and…Eddie should’ve given him another option.

Now he has Steve Harrington dressed like an ice cream sailor really high and weepy on his couch. He’s sniffling and teary eyed about missing ‘the little guy.’

And yeah. It sucks for your dog to go missing and maybe the weed is bring some of that emotion to the surface but what is Eddie supposed to do here?

He tries, “I think, um. I think that Dustin will probably come back. They typically come back.”

Unless they go missing in the woods like his neighbor’s dogs did a couple years ago, Eddie thinks privately but doesn’t say that. He just awkwardly rubs Steve’s shoulder and says, “He’ll be back before you know it.”

“You’re right,” Steve nods, wiping at his teary eyes. “I’m just tired an’ I miss him. He’s probably having a lot of fun…He’s probably not even taking care of his curls.”

Jesus, Eddie hopes someone finds this goddamn poodle soon. He doesn’t want to experience Steve Harrington crying ever again.

He vaguely heard something about attracting your missing pets with your scent and suggests, “Maybe you can put a sock or something outside.”

That makes no sense to Steve but he nods anyways. Dustin’s always doing weirdo science experiments so, “He’s probably like that.”

[steviesummer]

not the loss but the thing misplaced

ao3 Written for @steddie-spooktober Halfway to Halloween prompt, “fog,” 995 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, season 4, the walk through The Upside Down woods, Eddie Munson Backstory

“How pissed d’you think they would be,” Eddie says, trying to sound unbothered, “if I asked them to slow down?”

He watches the glow of Steve’s flashlight scatter across the forest floor. It’s not a pretty sight, creepy vines and other nasty shit all harshly exposed, but it’s better than looking ahead and seeing—

“Nance wouldn’t mind. Robin…” Steve gives a vague hum. “Maybe? She’s got this thing where, like, once she builds up momentum she doesn’t really wanna stop. Going uphill especially, I think she thinks she’s gonna fall if she doesn’t do it all at once. One time we were helping Dustin take apart this… transmitter? Or something, doesn’t matter. Anyway, at Weathertop—”

“Weathertop?” Against his better judgment, Eddie looks up, but at least he’s got a distraction for now.

“Yeah, it’s Dustin’s name for that huge hill, y’know, the highest point in Hawkins.”

It’s a cute thought, but Eddie’s fond reply is stolen from him as he inadvertently glances ahead. He doesn’t say anything, but he feels the weight of Steve’s eyes on him.

“You okay? Did you see something?”

Steve raises the flashlight with renewed purpose. Eddie shakes his head. Tries to think of how to phrase this in the least mortifying way possible.

“Nah, man, it’s… it’s so dumb, never mind.”

Great, his go-to tactic: avoidance.

“Oh, yeah? Try me.”

There’s a pointed silence. And, as if Steve’s put some magic in the air, Eddie feels compelled to break it. Even the claws of his doubt that have sunk the deepest seem to relax slightly, and as he takes a breath, he’s hit with a sudden certainty: Steve won’t laugh.

“It’s just—just a thing from when I was a kid, y’know? I don’t, um, I’m not the biggest fan of, like, fog and shit.” He keeps his voice as light as he can, like maybe that can make the fear smaller. But Steve just looks at him, so earnestly listening, and he ends up tacking on more of the truth than he planned to. “I used to think it’d like. Take, um. Take people away.”

It skirts the edges of the full story—of the long nights he’d be left alone in his old home, waiting for his dad to come back. The place backed onto some woods, and when he was desperate he’d sit outside with his heart in his mouth, just watching the fog roll in.

You’re alone, the creeping mist would whisper. You’re all alone, and they’re never coming back.

He’d broken only once; the unhappiest of years had bled into one, but he couldn’t have been more than ten. He’d called Wayne. And back then, Wayne was only slightly more familiar than a stranger—it’d only be much later that Eddie would figure out the distance was a deliberate choice on his dad’s part—but he stayed on the line, and he must’ve missed his shift but never once mentioned it, just kept talking to Eddie quietly.

Eddie can’t remember how the phone call ended—his next clear memory is of Wayne’s car pulling up early in the morning, the gold of his headlights burning through the fog; he drove all the way from Hawkins, Eddie had thought with a childish wonder, as if Wayne had been on an impossible journey in an adventure book.

His dad must’ve returned at some point because Eddie vaguely recalls eavesdropping outside, dizzy with lack of sleep. It’s one of the only times he’s ever heard Wayne raise his voice: “For fuck’s sake, Al, that’s your kid.”

Steve absentmindedly passes the flashlight from one hand to the other. He looks thoughtful. “No kidding? Me too, kinda.”

You’re sweet, Eddie thinks; he can’t help it.  

He nudges Steve’s side with his elbow, “That’s nice of you and all, but you don’t need to make me feel better.”

“Hey, rude, I was being serious,” Steve says, with a lightheartedness that suggests maybe he’s sidestepping something just as much as Eddie. “I get it.”

It’s between one step and the next that an answer comes to Eddie. His mental map of Hawkins unfurls, and he zeroes in on the Harrington house; of course, Steve’s place backs onto the woods, too. There’s something undeniably comforting about a shared experience, however long ago. But mostly Eddie feels a twinge of sadness. I hope you weren’t as alone as I was.

“But that wasn’t the big fear,” Steve says—louder, more confident, like he’s somehow heard Eddie’s train of thought and is really saying, Come on, man, that’s enough. Have fun with me.

“No? Enlighten me, Harrington.”

“It was,” Steve says, as if he’s a very serious newscaster, “the sound of the toilet flushing.”

Eddie snorts. “It was not.”

“It was so! That thing sounded like a monster, dude, it was, like—” Grinning, Steve makes a juvenile noise in demonstration; it sounds more like static from a radio. It’s exaggerated and ridiculous, and so obviously done to make Eddie laugh. “And I’d run downstairs like this—” He covers an ear with his free hand, briefly stops walking to do a comical jog on the spot, “—so I wouldn’t have to hear it. Now that is embarrassing.”

“Okay, fine, dude,” Eddie says, still chuckling, “you win.”

Thank you.

The laughter helps, but it doesn’t quite stop the flare of anxiety when he catches sight of the girls again, the fog rendering them into nothing but shadows, like they might just vanish any second now.

“Hey, you know what?” Steve says kindly. “I don’t think Robin’ll be pissed at all.”

He whistles, and that brings back warmer memories of Steve in his element on the basketball court, Eddie pretending not to watch.

And as they catch up with Nancy and Robin, Eddie can see now that it’s not so bad really; the flashlight’s beam easily cuts through the fog. Steve smiles encouragingly, and he feels on the verge of some glimmering emotion; feels like he’s been given something that won’t ever slip away.

your fear but a lingering, limbic fear torn from shreds of forgotten years. Only that much is clear. —Alice B. Fogel, Forgiving the Darkness

[steviesummer]

Little WIP :)

[steviesummer]

Eddie having some mild health issues while he's visiting Wayne and going in for a doctor's appointment after Wayne nags his ear off.

Eddie being hit with the fact that his old embarrassing high school crush Steve Harrington is apparently a nurse now who wears glasses and has a little badge reel shaped like Saturn. "Any difficulty swallowing?" "No, never been a problem for me."

Eddie going wide-eyed and sincerely wishing the floor would open up and swallow him because Jesus Christ, why did he say it like that?

Steve clearing his throat. "Okay. Any dizziness when standing?"

[steviesummer]

Conversation that’s happened in the back of Hopper’s truck:

Eddie: Are you rich?

Steve: No, that’s my dad

Hopper: We actually call your dad something else

Steve, not getting it: Uh-huh. Counselor.

Callahan, Hopper’s new probie: Your dad is a lawyer?

Steve: Yep.

Steve: But he can’t help you sue your mom for your big ugly face. Sorry.

[steviesummer]

STEVE HARRINGTON IN THE BIG 2025???

[steviesummer]

Roller Derby Eddie and his “normie sport” boyfriend

Full contact sports prompt for @steddiesportsau squeezing in right by the deadline, also for anon who requested sports steddie

[steviesummer]

of course he kissed it better afterwards

[steviesummer]

AU where Steve and Eddie date but Eddie breaks up with Steve so he can make it big, and then just…never makes it.

He plays in a wedding band now.

Typically Gareth books their gigs but that’s going to stop as soon as Eddie sees the welcome sign welcoming them to the wedding of Steve Harrington and, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Think of the paycheck, man.”

This happens and that happens, and suddenly Eddie’s back is against the wall of an empty hallway, Steve’s mouth on his neck and - “This is wrong. So wrong.”

“Hm?”

“You just got married.”

Steve pulls back to give him a look like he’s the biggest idiot to walk this planet and asks, “So?”

“Since when does Steve Harrington cheat?”

“Did you even look at the bride? Like at all.”

“She had a veil.”

“She took it off,” Steve smiles like he’s not cheating on his wife. He gives Eddie a peak on the lips, “It’s Robin.”

“Rob- it’s Buckley?” Eddie asks incredulous. “The lesbian.”

“Yeah, man,” Steve says, pulling Eddie’s tie off. “I got to be married or thirty to get my inheritance. We made a deal.”

[steviesummer]

It's May! Time to get crafting for mother's and father's day, and to finally get your garden ready for the outdoor season if you haven't yet!

In keeping with this, our challenge for this month is simple: Make something!

After all, much like a garden, fandom can only grow when we sow new crops.

We will share some inspiration for you throughout the month, but feel free to reblog this post and comment with ideas of your own.

Happy creating! ✂️🖌🎨

[steviesummer]

Dustin, dramatically and loudly throwing himself down on the counter at the diner: I need a milkshake, stat.

Patty, the waitress working the bar: What’s your trouble, kid?

Dustin: I think my mom likes Steve Harrington more than me

Person next to him: *snorts*

Tommy, the person next to him: Yeah, tell me about it.

[steviesummer]

STEDDIE x FOB

[steviesummer]

sweet nothings <3

[steviesummer]

Care for You

Steddie | Words: 265

Written for @whumpril day 30: "I'm not going anywhere"

Divider art: @saradika-graphics

Summary: Steddie hugs

Steve slumped against Eddie, his forehead finding his favorite spot in the crook of Eddie’s neck. He was damp from the rain that still poured outside.

“Everythin’ hurts,” Steve moaned. 

“I got ya,” Eddie hushed. His voice was slow and easy, knowing that after his overnight shift, the odds of Steve having a migraine were high. Eddie eased Steve out of the damp hoodie, his heart warming at Steve’s choice to wear one of Eddie. It looked better on Steve, or maybe it was that Steve looked good in anything. 

Eddie pulled Steve closer, wrapping his arms around Steve’s body. He rubbed his thumbs over the back of Steve’s shoulders, feeling Steve get heavier against him. 

Steve breathed a moan, warming Eddie’s neck. 

Eddie’s heart fluttered at the feeling of Steve’s lips at his neck, smiling when Steve pressed a kiss there. 

Eddie squeezed Steve a bit tighter, enough to say I’m holding you, here, come closer. 

Steve burrowed into Eddie, breathing in his familiar scent of something sweet and smoky. Eddie’s arms wrapped him tighter, rubbing his back and neck, and Steve shuddered at the sensation of being touched, and through slow traces of shapes that soothed him, each one reminded Steve that he was here, home in Eddie’s arms.

Safe. 

Loved.

Eddie’s hold loosened and Steve responded by tightening his hold on Eddie’s waist. He did his best to press his entire body against Eddie.

“Guess I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie laughed, pulling Steve closer. 

And Steve knew Eddie didn’t mind.

Because for Eddie, just having Steve close was all he needed. 

[steviesummer]

Corroded Coffin is back on tour, and things look a little different these days. The venues are smaller, the band older, and the frontman a whole lot more sober. But with Steve at his side and their daughter Ava in the wings (or sometimes on stage), Eddie Munson has never looked more grounded—or more alive.

Steddie | rated t | 1.8k | modern au, band au, POV Jeff, Chrissy/Jeff side-pairing, steddie dads, rockstar eddie, fluff | AO3 | @steddiebingo prompt 'Corroded Coffin'

The room in front of them is packed. Jeff can barely make out individual faces in the sea of people—swaying, jumping, cheering them on.

It’s electrifying.

It feels like the old days of fame, when they packed stadiums with hundreds of thousands of fans.

Somehow, it’s even better—even if the era of stadiums is probably behind them. The venues are smaller now, but the band is happier than ever. They started as a real garage band (Gareth’s garage, to be precise), cutting their teeth in dive bars. Back then, all that mattered was the music—getting it out there, getting it heard. They were devoted to the craft, as Eddie had reminded them more than once.

That all changed when one of their songs blew up on social media—a butterfly’s wingbeat that set off the chain reaction leading to the life of sex, drugs, and rock ’n’ roll they’d always dreamed of.

No one had warned them what a nightmare that dream could become.

The fall had been steep. Painful. Most of all for Eddie, who had always craved to be seen, admired. Loved. He’d just been looking for that love in all the wrong places—and it nearly cost him everything.

If Jeff were ever to write lyrics for one of their songs, they’d be about Steve—how he saved Eddie, and by extension, saved them all. Good thing Eddie’s already writing those songs.

Now, five years later—after soul-searching, rehab, time away with friends and family, and a new album—they’re back.

Jeff had been surprised how fast they sold out. He'd wondered if anyone would even remember them in this fast-moving business. But apparently, people still knew Corroded Coffin. Or maybe they were just curious—to see for themselves if, and how, the infamous front man had managed to pull himself back up after a string of very public scandals.

Either way, the vibe is incredible—metal through and through—with the whole band grinning like mad as they play like there’s no tomorrow. It feels like Gareth’s garage again—joking, laughing, showing off, pouring their souls into every single note.

Off to the side, friends and family watch. Jeff blows Chrissy a kiss. Steve’s next to her, swaying his hips wildly out of sync—on purpose, Jeff’s sure of it—teasing Eddie, pretending he’s never heard their music before. Jeff knows for a fact Steve can sing every single song by heart.

Beside him, her tiny hand tucked in his, stands a little girl with a giant pink bow in her hair and bulky yellow noise-cancelling headphones over her ears. A big shark plushie is clutched to her chest. Her huge brown eyes are locked on Eddie, watching his every move with breathless fascination.

Ava had just turned three a few weeks earlier, and Eddie had been adamant that Steve and she come with them on tour. Jeff understands why. He knows how scared Eddie is, deep down, of messing it all up again. But with the love of his life and their little wonder at his side, staying on the right path—staying strong—feels more possible.

The band’s just as happy to have them along. They take turns watching Ava so Steve and Eddie can have time to themselves—exploring whatever city they’re in or just catching up on some much-needed sleep. Honestly, it’s fun. And great training for when they become fathers themselves.

Jeff and Chrissy plan to announce their own growing family later tonight.

But for now, they’re here to rock and roll.

Jeff’s grin only grows as Eddie launches into a guitar solo—long black curls flying, heavy with sweat, fingers dancing across the strings like the devil himself is chasing him. His eyes are wild, his face split by an almost manic grin.

The crowd erupts, singing their lyrics back at them, every voice crashing over the stage like a wave. Jeff feels alive—so fucking alive.

Eddie wraps the solo with a flourish, and Jeff takes over, leading them into the chorus with his deep, rumbling timbre while Gareth pounds along behind him on drums. When Jeff glances to the side, he sees Eddie sauntering toward Steve and Ava, snagging a kiss from his husband before crouching in front of their daughter.

Ava giggles, delighted, her shark plushie dangling from her tiny fist. Before it can drop, Eddie catches it, shaking it playfully in the air as he backs away, grinning.

Ava’s eyes follow him, round as her open mouth, while Steve stands beside her, shaking his head, trying and failing to hide a fond smile.

Right on cue, Eddie spins back toward the mic and joins Jeff on the second chorus—not missing a beat—as Ava, finally shaking off her surprise, bolts onto the stage to reclaim her beloved plushie, Herbert.

A collective awwwww ripples through the crowd, and even the band isn’t immune to the sheer cuteness of Steve and Eddie’s little hurricane.

Ava runs back toward Steve, waving her plushie triumphantly, and he sweeps her up into his arms with a laugh that rings out bright and warm, even over the music. Jeff catches Chrissy’s eye, and they share a quiet look of understanding.

I can’t wait for that to be us.

His thoughts drift back to their last tour almost six years ago—Eddie, high as a kite and drunk off his ass, falling off the stage in the middle of a set. He and Gareth hadn’t even been speaking then, too much hurt and disappointment between them. Hell, even Jeff had started avoiding Eddie, afraid he’d say something that would shatter their lifelong friendship.

But those wounds have been mended. Gareth throws Eddie a wink as he dives into a blistering drum solo, and Eddie bows low in response, grinning wide.

Neither of them notices the little devil who’s once again slipped free of her papa’s arms—this time bypassing her daddy entirely to make a beeline for... Jeff.

He doesn’t even have time to step away from the keyboard before she’s crawling under the instrument and tugging at his pant leg, Herbert the shark still clutched in one arm.

“Jeffie! Up!” she demands, beaming up at him with those dark, pleading eyes.

Jeff’s helpless. Those eyes remind him too much of Eddie’s—back when they were just two scrappy boys in Hawkins and Eddie would beg to sleep in his bed after another nightmare during a sleep over.

Apparently, he’s just not built to say no to a Munson. Good thing Wayne doesn’t know that.

Scooping her up into his arms, Jeff glances around for Eddie to signal he’s got this, but catches Gareth’s scowl instead. It’s two-thirds performance and one-third genuine irritation—hilarious either way.

Ava picked Jeff as her favorite from day one, much to Gareth’s eternal annoyance. Even when Steve and Eddie first brought her home, it was Jeff who could calm her down or cheer her up, even when her dads couldn’t. They’d called him more than once—sometimes in the middle of the night—to help soothe their daughter.

He’s not above gloating about it. Jeff sticks his tongue out. Gareth flips him the bird.

The gesture makes Ava giggle, and Jeff decides to push it further.

“Can Uncle Jeffie get a kiss, Ava?”

She smacks a wet one on his cheek, and Jeff swears he hears Gareth huff in exaggerated annoyance. Eddie, meanwhile, is doubled over with laughter.

The crowd watches with a mix of delight and amusement—awwing, laughing, no hint of irritation at the interruption. Jeff’s heart swells with gratitude. It’s a kind of joy he hasn’t felt in a long time.

And Eddie seems to feel the same—like he always does, like they’re tuned to the same frequency after all these years.

“It seems my daughter inherited her daddy’s show-stealing tendencies,” Eddie says into the mic, chuckling as the crowd laughs along. “Sadly, she’s even cuter than I ever was, so there’s no stopping her.”

The audience laughs again, warm and generous.

“Yeah, our little Hurricane is unstoppable,” he adds. “Steve and I have accepted it. But I wanna thank y’all for being so kind and understanding, for welcoming her into your hearts the way we have.”

There’s another ripple of warmth through the crowd, and Eddie presses on, already riding the wave.

“And while I’m talking—”

The band and crew groan in affectionate protest, teasing him, but Eddie powers through with a grin.

“—I wanted to take this moment not just to thank you for being here tonight, and for being totally metal, but to thank my bandmates—Gareth, Jeff, and Grant—for having my back. For welcoming me back after I got my shit together. You guys are the best friends a nerdy loser like me could ever ask for. I love you.”

The audience awwwws again, and Jeff’s grateful all eyes are on Eddie—no one sees him swipe at his damp eyes.

Eddie takes a breath, and his gaze shifts.

“Most of all, I want to thank my husband, Steve, without whom I’d probably be dead.”

He pauses, letting the weight of his words land. “Everyone says I’m a drama queen—and, fair—but I mean it. Steve, you saved my life. You are my life. You and Ava.”

He turns toward Steve, and Jeff swears the whole world falls away around them.

“Thank you for believing in me when I couldn’t. For seeing the potential instead of the failure. Every love song is about you—and deep down, every song is a love song, in one way or another.”

Jeff sees Steve mouth I love you across the distance, eyes locked with Eddie’s, everything else fading for a moment.

Then Eddie turns back to the crowd.

“So let’s hear another love song, shall we? This one’s called Persephone, and we are Corroded Coffin.”

Gareth counts them in, and Eddie launches into a song about the lord of the underworld falling for unattainable beauty and light. During the interlude, Jeff carries Ava back to Steve.

She goes willingly into her papa’s arms, and Jeff says nothing about the dampness on his cheeks. He’s just grateful—so damn glad those two got their happy ending, especially after everything it took to get here.

As he turns to rejoin the band, Chrissy pulls him in for a soft kiss.

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips.

And Jeff is reminded again—they all got their happy endings.

Only, it’s not an ending.

As he swings his guitar over his shoulder and takes his place across from Eddie, he realizes—it’s just the beginning of a new chapter. One where they’ve all grown, but still get to do what they love most: play music.

And Jeff can’t wait to see what this chapter holds.

End note: This story was born when I went to a concert by Peter Doherty, once famous for his drug use and periodic scandals. Now he tours with his wife and daughter, and the scene depicted in this story is heavily inspired by what happened during that concert. His daughter is truly adorable.