Hi! I'm Apple. I currently write for Stranger Things. The majority is Steddie, but I do branch out from time to time. After I ran out of link space in my old masterlist, I let it fall about a year out of date. But now I've created sub-lists to sort everything out again.
Last updated: June 23th, 2026
Quick Navigation:
my ao3 | thisapplepielife: short fics | steddie micro | corroded coffin fest | steddie song fics | spicy six | sub eddie week | steddie week | a stranger summer | steddie angsty august | steddie smutty september | steddie spooktober | steddiemas | steddie holiday drabbles | steddie bingo | stobin month | steddie sports au
My hashtag #thisapplepielife: short fics gathers nearly every fic I post on Tumblr in one place. Short is relative, of course, but I've ended up using it for anything that isn't a long fic or series. There's gotta be a couple hundred standalone fics in there by now. With a lot of them not on ao3 at this time.
I also run the event blog @corrodedcoffinfest - if you'd like more Corroded Coffin fan works in your life, come join us!
Author's Self-Rec Fic: Tuesday's Gone With the Wind - this is my favorite thing I've written. So, if you wanna know what I'd tell you to read? It's that one.
(Some of my work is rated E, so please be mindful of ratings.)
I currently have written three long fics that are all complete and ready to read in full. Tuesday's Gone With the Wind is my personal favorite, Take the Money and Run is my most popular and All Across the Universe is my most recent!
[click here for my LONG FIC masterpost]
Don't want quite as big of a bite? Check out these chaptered fics.
[click here for my CHAPTERED fic masterpost]
Fics that are hooked together in a connected universe, even if they can often be read standalone.
[click here for my SERIES masterpost]
Single fics that aren't too long, nor too short. I guess they're just right?
[click here for my TEEN ONE-SHOT masterpost]
[click here for my MATURE/EXPLICIT ONE-SHOT masterpost]
All the short fics a heart could want! I've written a lot for different events. Steddie Micro Fic, Steddie Holiday Drabbles, Corroded Coffin Fest, etc. Find all those fics here:
[click here for my STEDDIE MICROFIC masterpost]
[click here for my other FICLETS & DRABBLES masterpost]
All the fics I've written that are set in the Tuesday's Gone With the Wind universe.
[click here for my TUESDAY'S 'VERSE masterpost]
If you know, you know. Introduced during Tuesday's, and now they have shown up all over the place in my writing.
[click here for my GARETH/DI masterpost]
All the other pairings that also need some love in the fandom! Some are rarer than others.
[click here for my RAREPAIRS masterpost]
Gen fics also need some love in the fandom! Wanna read about Platonic Stobin, Gareth & Steve? This is the place.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Prompt #7 - The California Raisins | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Recreational Drug Use ('Shrooms) | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Christmas, Eddie Munson Lives, And Goes On A Trip
"Whatcha watchin'?" Steve asks, flopping down on the couch next to Eddie.
"A horror movie," Eddie says, and Steve takes a look at the TV. It doesn't look like a horror movie. It looks like a cartoon. A child's cartoon. A Christmas special, he thinks. Like Frosty.
"This?" Steve asks, pointing towards the screen. Maybe their ideas of horror movies differ vastly.
Eddie nods, dramatically. Eyes fixed on the movement on the television.
Steve gets a good look at him. His pupils are huge, and he's fucked up.
"There were dinosaurs eating waffles."
Steve raises an eyebrow, but keeps looking at him.
"And singing and dancing camels. Look! They have knees. And shoes. Like yours. Why would camels need tennis shoes?" Eddie whispers, like he's horrified by this possibility.
Steve laughs.
"Right. Of course," Steve says, humoring him. "So. Totally unrelated to the camels in my shoes — what did you take tonight?" Steve asks in a singsongy way.
Eddie doesn't miss a beat.
"Gareth and I had some mushrooms. We ate them. He's in the bathroom puking."
Steve chuckles. Halluciogenics. That tracks with how Eddie's acting right now.
Next up, there are Claymation bells, and Steve slings an arm over Eddie's shoulders. There's a clay version of Quasimodo directing their bell orchestra.
Eddie's clearly horrified.
"Look at him. He's terrifying."
Steve doesn't agree, just laughs. This is funny, and when the bell that isn't doing anything the way he's supposed to chucks his hammer away, and then tries to steal the hammers of others around him, Steve laughs.
"It's not funny!" Eddie exclaims, and it really is. Eddie's reaction is making this a thousand times better than it would be on its own. Steve's sure of that.
Eddie's face is pressed into Steve's chest, one eye still glued to the screen.
"That bear has boobies," Eddie says.
"Pretty sure that's a walrus," Steve answers, "and yes, she does."
By the time the trippy Joy to the World comes on, with the Earth shifting and moving, and changing faces in the sun, Eddie's full-on freaking out. Steve's gotta get him to bed, and Gareth out of the bathroom.
"C'mon," Steve says, "time for bed."
Eddie is slow to get up, transfixed by the changing colors. Like he's hypnotized, but in a traumatized way. Steve didn't need some children's Christmas special to tell him they're all a little traumatized. He experienced all that first hand, thank you very much.
When the hands scroll across the screen, traveling upwards, Eddie screams.
"That's it," Steve says, and gets him to his feet. "Bed."
Eddie only makes it halfway to the doorway before he wheels around, "Hey! It's the California Raisins! That's why I was watching this!"
And there's no use fighting him, Eddie bails back onto the couch, and Steve must follow. Those are the rules in this life he's chosen to live.
Eddie watches, no longer scared, transfixed, and Steve is pretty sure he's gonna wind up at Hardee's to collect even more of the California Raisins figures.
When it finally ends and the credits roll, Eddie says, "Garfield was on before this. He went to the farm for Christmas. He breathed fire."
"I'm sure he did," Steve says, guiding Eddie by the shoulders towards the bedroom. When they pass the open bathroom door, Gareth is leaning against the wall, and gives Steve a thumb's up. At least he's among the living.
Steve digs around the stereo, and finds The California Raisins – Sing The Hit Songs tape, shoving it into the deck. It starts somewhere in the middle of Lean on Me and Steve helps Eddie get undressed and ready for bed. Hopefully he'll be long asleep before Steve needs to get up and change the tape to the other side.
"What the fuck did we watch last night?" Eddie asks, rubbing his eyes with his fingers in a way that Steve thinks must hurt.
"You watched a Claymation Christmas special while on shrooms. It was interesting, to say the least."
Eddie laughs, and Steve rolls over, placing his hand in the center of Eddie's chest.
"You better this morning?"
Eddie nods.
"Glad to hear it. Gareth might still be in our bathroom."
Eddie laughs, a scratchy sound, and hauls himself up out of bed. Steve follows, and sure enough, Gareth is still sound asleep on the bathmat. Steve offers to go make some breakfast while Eddie gets him up and off the floor.
Steve doesn't know why they keep dabbling. Or at least, why Eddie keeps dabbling with Gareth. History has proven Gareth can't handle anything they've tried. His tolerance is worse than Steve's despite partaking more often.
Still, it's nothing a little food and attention from Eddie won't cure.
After digging in the fridge, Steve is just about to crack and egg into the bowl when he hears, "Hey, Steve! We want Hardee's!"
Steve closes his eyes, tilting his head back. Fine.
He places the egg back into its carton, and clutches the edge of the counter.
"Fine!" he yells back, and knows until that damn California Raisins promo is history, he's always gonna eat another cinnamon raisin biscuit drizzled in icing for breakfast just so Eddie can procure another .99 toy.
Nobody warned him that this was what would happen when he fell in love with a nerd. Happy Meal toys. Collectable glasses. And it's not even as if Eddie's sucked this out of his thumb, either. Wayne collects, too. Just mugs. And hats. Still. It feels very similar, his things just require Steve to drive all over, trying to complete all of Eddie's little sets.
They ate Pizza Hut once a week until the Flintstones glasses were all bought. Collection complete. Last year, it was the Popples ones. Steve honestly doesn't remember what it is even like to drink out of a glass that doesn't have some sort of cartoon character on it.
Still, he'd change nothing.
"Hurry up! I'm hungry!" Steve yells, and finally hears feet on linoleum.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: If you've never seen the Christmas special that was referenced throughout this fic, it was Will Vinton's A Claymation Christmas and you should watch it. And The California Raisins were a big deal during this time period. I don't actually remember what time of the year in 1987 that Hardee's promotion took place, though, and couldn't find it online. So, I'm just pretending it was over Christmas, lol.
And yes, this fic takes place specifically on December 21st, 1987, and yes, A Garfield Christmas did air directly before on CBS. Never seen that either? Here!
Credit for the TV guide picture from this cute retro video. Check out the Rodney Reindeer plush next to the TV. You just know Eddie made Steve get those from Burger King that year as well.
Also? While all the 70s and 80s collectable glasses are cool and I still have lots of my original ones, they were painted with lead and/or cadmium paint. So, they should just be for looking at now, not drinking out of. When Steve learns this, in about 2010, you know the face he's gonna make at Eddie. Hands on hips. 😒
Written for week 1 of the @steddiemicrofic blog's third anniversary challenge.
Rated: T
Prompt: three, 333 words
Tags: Gay bar; bisexual Steve; awkward flirting
“I don't get it,” Steve mutters, fiddling with his empty beer. There's a girl standing at the bar. Curly hair, dark nail polish, skinny jeans hugging a cute little ass. Too bad she won't be into him. “Why is the club called Three Dollar Bill?”
Robin sighs. “Because three dollar bills don't exist.”
Steve scoffs. Hot curly-haired chick throws back her head and laughs at something her date said. A tiny strawberry blonde with a tooth gap.
“So? Queer people do exist.”
Robin honks. “I love you. Get us another drink?”
He probably shouldn't. But she's finally starting to loosen up, so he goes.
He places their order, then hops on a bar stool. He's just in time to see the strawberry blonde girl slide into the seat beside Robin.
“Thank Christ,” says a voice by his ear. A deep, rumbly one. “Chrissy has been ogling your friend all night. It's her first time, so she's a little nervous.”
Steve turns. Hot curly-haired chick grins back at him, eyes twinkling with mirth. Except that voice was decidedly un-female just now, and shit, he's an idiot.
“Eddie,” says hot, curly-haired dude. “Saw you checking me out.”
“Steve,” Steve croaks. “Sorry, I thought you were a girl. I'm not …”
Eddie watches him gesture at the bar, and something about his smile turns sad.
“Got it. You're the straight chaperone, huh?”
Steve cringes. “Yeah. No. I'm not completely against the idea, I've just never- … What I'm trying to say is that I'm not a full three dollar bill. More of a two-and-a-half.”
Eddie has been listening to his ramble with a confused frown, but now his face lights up.
“Well, big boy,” he purrs. “I wouldn't mind adding my fifty cents, if you catch my drift.”
“Don’t you mean your two-” Steve starts. Eddie winks. “Oh. I mean … yeah? I'd like that?”
Eddie's smile goes large and dimpled. Steve leaves the club with three fresh hickeys and a number tucked into his pocket.
'THREE' wc: 333 | rated: T | cw: N/A | Tags: Pre-Relationship, Chest Hair, Nipples, Lust, Inspection, but not in the BDSM or medical way, Eddie's not a doctor anyway he doesn't know if he's right
Steve needs Eddie's opinion to settle an argument.
“Oh my God Steve,” Robin sighs. A years long exasperation permeates the air. “It’s not, you’re normal.”
Steve crosses his arms over his bare, hairy chest—Eddie forgets to listen as his tits get squished. He’s been with enough men to have preferences—unfortunately Steve tends to embody them all.
“It is! And it’s weird enough,” he argues, letting his arms drop. He’s too busy to notice that Eddie’s two seconds away from howling like a dog. “You’ve never even looked.”
“Yeah well—” Robin says, rolling her eyes. “Excuse me. I don’t want to get all personal with your—your nudity!”
Eddie bites at the insides of his cheeks. Their arguments are usually pretty entertaining—this one’s the best, because Steve took off his shirt to prove a point that Eddie can’t see.
“Then you don’t have a leg to stand on,” Steve says, like it’s final. “Eddie—”
Eddie’s head whips up from where he was squinting.
“Settle this,” he says, coming closer. Steve gestures at his chest like his tits are vowels on The Wheel of Fortune—Eddie desperately tries to conceal that he feels like a crazy horndog.
“Okay?” he asks, pulling up years of DMing experience to keep his composure; Steve’s tits are a hidden enemy, or a boon the party has to discover on their own.
“How many nipples do I have?” Steve asks. Eddie opens his mouth to say clearly there’s two, but—
This warrants scrutiny. He leans in closer—Steve smells good, like always. He looks whole and healthy and strong—Eddie’s mouth literally waters as Steve helpfully points to what could be a mole.
Eddie considers it, trying for objectivity.
“Could be a nipple, could be a freckle. Lemme test it,” he says, holding up his fingers. Steve doesn’t stop him, so he lightly pinches one of his regular nipples and gets fully hard when Steve sucks in a quiet gasp. He quickly moves onto the third one, lightly pinching that too. “Feel anything?”
“Feels normal,” he frowns, disappointed. “I don’t have three?”
for @corrodedcoffinfest day 6 prompt 'family video'
rated t | 923 words | no cw | tags: platonic stobin, jeff is the third wheel to their platonic marriage
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
Jeff hates this job so much. He really hates that he’s the youngest person working here and Keith seems to think that means he can do all the heavy lifting.
He owed Jeff’s dad a favor after he approved a business loan at the bank for him when he probably shouldn’t have. So, Jeff has a minimum wage job while all his friends are enjoying summer vacation. He’s thrilled.
Though he’s pretty glad the job at Scoops Ahoy didn’t work out. He wouldn’t have wanted to be at the mall when that fire happened.
“Need you to train the newbies tomorrow,” Keith says as he locks up for the night. “The girl will be fine, the guy is like her lost puppy. Don’t know why she bothers with him. He’s an idiot.”
Right, the new people start tomorrow.
“Anyone I might know?” Jeff asks as he looks around for his mom’s car. She’s late again, but he doesn’t mind too much. He could use some fresh air while he waits for her to get here.
“Steve Harrington and Robin something or other. She’s your age, so I guess you’re probably in classes together,” Keith hands him the key. “You’re opening and I forgot the spare. Feel free to fire Harrington if he’s too stupid to figure out how to press rewind.”
Jeff’s pretty sure even Steve can figure that out, but he doesn’t care to argue with Keith. Not when he can see the headlights of his mom’s car turning into the parking lot.
—
“And that’s really it. Any questions?”
Robin shakes her head. Steve shakes his head. Jeff thinks it’s a bit weird that Steve even needs a job, but maybe he just needs to kill some time now that he’s graduated.
There’s been rumors that his parents cut him off when he finished school and didn’t have plans to go to college, but Jeff doesn’t think it’s true. Or at least not completely.
A part of him wonders if Gareth started it just to see if it would get anywhere. He likes to do stupid shit out of boredom.
“I’m going on my lunch. Let me know if you need me.”
He hides in the office and hopes they don’t need him. Tuesdays are pretty slow, so he’d be surprised if they had more than one or two customers.
He calls Eddie to make sure they’re still on for band practice tomorrow in his garage. He calls his mom to remind her he’s off at six tonight and needs a ride. And then he manages to eat the sandwich he brought from home before there’s a knock on the door.
Robin steps in with an awkward wave and smile.
“Everything okay?” Jeff asks around a mouthful of food.
“I may have accidentally checked out some movies.”
“Oh. No big deal. I’ll show you how to fix it in a few minutes,” Jeff smiles at her reassuringly. “It’s easy.”
“Uh. Well.” Robin bounces on her feet. “I may have accidentally…checked out all of the movies.”
“Like all of the ones that were on the cart? That’s okay. Accidents happen.”
“She checked out all of the movies in the store,” Steve says as he steps in, hands settling on his hips. “I don’t know how.”
“I…didn’t know that was possible,” Jeff admits as he sets the last few bites of his sandwich back in the baggie and stands up. “Are you sure that’s what happened?”
“Yep. I tried to start checking them back in, but there’s an error,” Steve explains. He nudges Robin’s arm, letting it rest there for a moment. Jeff notices but doesn’t say anything. “I’ll fix it if you can show me how.”
Jeff shakes his head. “I don’t think this has ever happened. We might have to call—“
“No!” They both yell. Jeff raises a brow. “Please. I’m sure we can figure it out together,” Robin continues. Steve nods along next to her.
He sighs and gestures for them to go back to the counter.
The fix is actually pretty simple once he gets eyes on it. He’s kind of a computer nerd. Keith probably keeps him around for that more than the favor he owed his dad at this point. But it will take a few hours because they have to go by genre and count inventory on the shelves to make sure they don’t accidentally check something in that’s still with a customer. He leaves them to it while he handles actual customers coming in.
By the end of his shift, they’re done and everything is back to normal. Keith arrives to close and they silently agree not to speak of it at all.
The truth is, even with the problem, and expecting the worst, he had the most fun he’s ever had while working alongside Steve and Robin. They’re funny, even when they don’t mean to be. They’re nice, even though Jeff always thought Steve had a massive attitude in high school. That seems to have cleared itself up. They’re also very entertaining as a pair. He accidentally called them a couple earlier and got the dirtiest look from Robin and a very stern ‘no way, dude’ from Steve.
So he hopes they stick around at Family Video for a while. He probably won’t get to work with them every day since they really only need two people on at a time, but he hopes he will sometimes. They definitely made today go by faster, and that’s all he can hope for all summer.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
posted for @corrodedcoffinfest!
Prompt Day 6: Family Video | Word Count: 492 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Corroded Coffin | Tags: nonsense in family video, post s4, no season 5
How can one say no to Corroded Coffin?
Late fees, that's how. || ao3
“Come on, please?”
“No.”
Gareth groaned. “But Steve-”
“Jesus, has all the feedback from your amps made you deaf? Or did the headbanging liquify your brain or something? No.” Steve stopped short when he noticed Eddie at the end of the aisle. “Cornering me won't change my answer. You have six overdue tapes between the four of you.” He put back a copy of Peggy Sue Got Married before barrelling down the aisle, stack of tapes in hand. “Move,” he snapped a foot short of Eddie.
“Where are your manners, Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step aside.
“Out the window,” he said, knocking Eddie's shoulder with his own. “With my patience and my last nerve.”
Four sets of footsteps followed him into the next aisle.
As he picked up the next tape, a copy of Sid and Nancy, the whole of Corroded Coffin surrounded him.
“Come on, Steve,” Gareth begged. “I'll bring back the other tapes I owe you tomorrow. Promise.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Freak pleaded.
Jeff shrugged when Steve eyed him. “I returned my tapes on time.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Drop box at the last possible minute-”
“Counts,” Jeff interrupted. “My record is clean.”
Eddie, Freak, and Gareth shared a look before grinning.
“Please, Steve?”
“Yeah! Jeff's a good boy.”
“We can check it out under him!”
“Jesus.” Steve set the pile on a half open shelf before turning to them. “Your four are worse than Henderson’s gaggle of shitheads!”
They all stared at him, wide eyed and hopeful.
After a moment to even his breathing, Steve caved. “Go get the goddamn tape.”
“Yes!”
“If Keith finds out about this-”
“We're dead,” they chorased, running off.
Though, Eddie stayed, smiling slyly.
Rocky Horror had been missing from the shelves of Family Video for well over a month. Mostly because Eddie Munson was a hurricane who didn't understand due dates. Primarily because Steve Harrington had no backbone when it came to Eddie Munson. “I won't do it again.”
“Oh, come on.”
“I've already been through the ringer for their missing tapes. I told you last time, I need the physical copy to change the return date.” He gestured with his hands as he continued. “I check it in, then I check it out again. Simple mechanics, Munson.”
“Yes, but last time, you used that pretty computer of yours and overrode it anyway.”
Steve sighed, grabbing his stack of tapes. He walked off, not bothering to argue. He would have already done it by now if the four of them hadn't run in like bulls in a China shop.
“Is that a yes?”
Happy to be facing away from the aisle, Steve didn't bother to hide his grin.
“Come on, Stevie! Please?”
“Go get a candy, Munson,” Steve mumbled, smiling to himself when Eddie cheered from behind him.
“Yes!”
“You need to bring it back eventually.”
“We’ll see,” Eddie said, voice lilting playfully as he raced by to the check out counter.
Prompt: Day 4 - Headbangers Ball | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Steddie | Eddie Munson, Wayne Munson, Steve Harrington, Jeff, Post S4, Eddie lives, Eddie is going through it, minor angst, lots of love
“Sorry, man, not tonight.”
“Why not?”
Jeff asks a fair question, but it’s not one Eddie can answer. Not truthfully.
His mind is a mess today, has been for the last week, maybe the whole month. Anniversaries always fuck with his brain, he feels deeply, Wayne says. His dad used to say he was soft hearted, but sometimes it sounded like an accusation. Weak. That’s what Al had meant, even if he smiled after he said it.
“I’m not feeling great, man. I just want to flake out on the couch.”
“Well, flake out on my couch. I’ll kick Gareth on the floor. C’mon, man, it’s Headbanger’s Ball. This is our night!”
Eddie sighs, catching Wayne’s attention. He’s supposed to be at work but has somehow miraculously been given the night off, just out of the blue. Same thing happened last year, Wayne babysitting him like a toddler even though he’s a grown fucking man. He doesn’t need someone to sit and watch him all night, he needs to be left the fuck alone. Wayne doesn’t get it, and neither does Jeff, apparently.
“Who’s on tonight?” he asks, knowing it won’t make a single bit of difference.
“Uh, LA Guns. And don’t pull that face, they’re not that bad.”
“Yeah, well unless Kelly Nickels is climbing out of the TV and into my lap, I’ll pass.”
“Ew, dude.”
“Eddie c’mon!” he hears Gareth shout in the background. “Stop being a pussy!”
“Firstly, tell Gareth I’m going to kick his ass next time I see him. Secondly…I am grateful for the effort, Jeffrey,” he says, biting back every last snarky comment that tries to claw it’s way out of his mouth. “But honestly, I just need a night to myself, you know?”
He hopes Wayne caught that too.
Eddie can hear the T.V. In the background, and Gareth and Matty arguing about something. For a second he thinks about grabbing his keys and heading on over to Jeff’s; he misses them, doesn’t spend enough time with them as it is, especially as he seems to have something edging toward a love life now. But he’d be moody, at best, and that’s not fair on them, not when they’ve been nothing but patient and supportive over the last couple of years.
Eventually there’s a quiet “Sure, man, I get it,” and Eddie hangs up with a promise to swing by in the middle of the week. Things should be better then, his mind quieter. He doesn’t tell Jeff that, though.
Eddie considers doing exactly what he said he would, flaking out on the couch, but with Wayne there, hawk eyes upon him, he decides the relative peace of his bedroom is his best bet. He says goodnight, even though he knows they’ll both be awake for most of it. This is just one of those nights they have to fight there way through. At least there are fewer of them now.
He stops by the kitchen for a glass of water, and rifles through his little pill box, neatly set out, morning, noon, and night. There’s not as many as there used to be, which is something because he hates the powdery drag across his tongue and the way they stick in his throat no matter how much water he drinks. Tonight he adds a sleeping pill and prays he doesn’t dream.
Eddie pokes his head into the living room.
“I’m heading to bed,” he says.
Wayne gives him a little nod. “Didn’t want to see your show tonight?”
He shrugs in reply. “Just tired. And I didn’t feel like driving all the way over to Jeff’s.”
“Alright. Well, you go on then, get your beauty sleep.”
A little laugh escapes him. “Fuck you.”
He’s about to turn and head down the hallway of their little house, but something stops him, and before he can even think about what he’s doing, he crosses the living room and throws his arms around Wayne. He feels the embarrassing prickle of tears.
“I love you,” he says, but it’s muffled into Wayne’s shirt, and Wayne’s hearing is all fucked up from the plant. But he feels a large hand on the back of his head, holding him closer, hears the soft “Love you too,” and it nearly pushes him over the edge so he breaks the hug quickly, mumbles goodnight and heads back to his room.
He’s got about an hour before the Restoril kicks in so he washes up and gets out of his jeans and climbs into bed with a book, praying for sleep to come fast tonight.
He’s only been in bed for ten minutes before there’s a soft knock on his door and before he can tell Wayne he’s okay, Steve steps into his room, and closes the door behind him.
“I swung by Jeff’s. Not feeling it tonight, huh?”
“Not really.”
Steve kicks his sneakers off, shucks his jeans and climbs under the blankets with Eddie. He takes the book from Eddie’s hands, carefully places the bookmark, and puts it on the nightstand, and then he opens his arms for Eddie to fall into them.
“I’m dreading tomorrow. How stupid is that?”
“I don’t think it’s stupid at all. You died, Eddie. That’s a big fucking deal. I don’t think that’s the kind of thing you get over in a couple of years.”
He feels the kiss to the top of his head, the extra squeeze pulling him tighter.
“I’ll be here with you tomorrow, okay? We’ll just…chill out, watch TV. Whatever you need.”
He marvels at how the world took so much but gave him something wonderful in return.
“Why did you go to Jeff’s? You don’t even like Headbangers Ball.”
“No, but I like the headbanger’s balls, and I was hoping to get a look at them tonight.”
Eddie laughs and slaps him on the chest. It’s been a rough couple of years, it’s going to be a rough couple of days, but at least he has this.
Lucky for me - there was an episode of Headbangers Ball on Saturday 26th March 1988. I love it when the stars align!
LA Guns were presenting, and I don't agree with Eddie, they are awesome! But he's right about Kelly Nickels.
for @corrodedcoffinfest day 4 prompt 'headbanger's ball'
rated t | 770 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, older steddie, famous corroded coffin, slice of life
📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰📰
Steve can’t do anything but laugh. It’s not that funny, but he’s picturing the reaction. Eddie’s gonna lose it.
He closes the magazine and sets it down on the counter. Eddie will be home soon and it’ll be the first thing he looks for. He’s been waiting for the official article for months.
Dinner simmers on the stove while he texts Robin. She only recently convinced him to “stop being an old man” and just text her sometimes instead of calling her to ask one simple question. He pretended it didn’t hurt his feelings, but she’s right. He called a lot about silly little things that are better off as texts. This isn’t a silly little thing, but he’d rather wait to call her when Eddie’s home.
Eddie runs into the room. It’s an impressive feat considering he’s about two years away from needing a hip replacement.
“It’s here?” He shuffles through the mail on the counter before finally setting his eyes on the magazine. “Did you look? Is it bad?”
Steve schools his face as he turns to look at Eddie flipping through the magazine.
“It’s not bad.”
Eddie freezes and looks up at him, squinting his eyes suspiciously.
“But it’s not good?”
“I didn’t say it’s not good.”
“But you’re acting like it’s not good.”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Just read it. Your glasses are on the table.”
Eddie walks over to the table and grabs his glasses, sits down in a chair, and starts reading. Steve turns back to the stove and waits.
“What the fuck.”
Steve smirks.
“Any band featured on Headbanger’s Ball is surely past their prime, but that doesn’t mean they can’t still make a statement in music. Eddie Munson and Jeff Clark are changing the way indie metal artists get heard.” Eddie puts the magazine down and glares at the wall. “Past our prime? We’re both still good at our jobs. That’s the whole point of this article!”
Steve decides to be a good husband, even though he really wants to laugh. He walks over to Eddie and rubs his back.
“I think they meant it as a compliment, honey,” he consoles. “Like even at your ages, you manage to stay relevant.”
“That’s like saying even at your age, you still have a nice ass.”
Steve kisses the top of his head. “And I do. So, accept that they still think you’re doing great things, even if they gave you a backhanded compliment.”
“I can’t believe this,” Eddie mutters as he keeps reading. “It does get better. But they forgot to mention Will.”
“He won’t mind,” Steve says as he walks back towards the stove to shut everything off and grab their plates. “He would insist he’s barely involved anyway.”
“You’re right.”
There’s silence for a minute, just the clinking of serving spoons and tongs as he places the chicken and vegetables on plates.
“I can’t believe they called us old by bringing up the Headbanger’s Ball.”
Steve snorts. “The guy who did the interview probably wasn’t even born when that was on TV. Give him a break.”
“Oh god. He could be our kid. He was so young.”
“I don’t remember a son…” Steve kisses the top of his head before setting their plates down on the table and sitting next to Eddie. “The two daughters call us old all the time, though. I’m shocked you don’t remember.”
“They mean it in a different way.”
Steve shakes his head. “Speaking of our angels—“
“What did they do?” Eddie is right to be a little worried. They both took after him with their energy, attitudes, and lifestyles. It was a bit stressful when they were teenagers, but now that they’re both adults, it’s somehow worse. Genetics didn’t even need to have anything to do with it.
“They might have already made comments online about the article.”
Eddie pulls his phone from his pocket and immediately goes to their social medias. He’s much better with technology than Steve, but that’s not too surprising. As a musician, he constantly has to adapt to the next new thing. Steve didn’t even get a washing machine with a timer until a few years ago when his Whirlpool finally shit the bed after nearly 25 years of service.
“They’re so mean to me,” Eddie pouts as he sets his phone down and takes a bite of his dinner.
“They love you.”
“I know.”
“And I love you too.”
“I know,” Eddie smiles at him.
“Even if you’re past your prime.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, but leans over to kiss Steve’s cheek. “I’m just finally joining you, old man.”
Summary: There are apparently worse rumors than being called the Spawn of Satan.
Word Count: 629
Rating: M
Warnings/Themes: Humor, Post Season 4, Eddie Lives, No Season 5 everything is fine, Minor Dustin Experiment Mention
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
Wayne was used to his nephew’s dramatic behavior.
There had been a time that he would consider himself tolerant of it, to be sure. He loved his nephew, but didn't always understand him. Eddie was hyperactive and over-imaginative in the best of times and sometimes he, an old curmudgeon set in his ways, could only offer a tight smile and a "that's nice, son."
After everything that had happened with the Cunningham girl, the earthquake, Eddie's injuries, and the subsequent clearing of his name...well, Wayne now thanked all the powers that be every time he heard Eddie shout.
"I can't fucking believe this!"
Maybe not before he'd had his first cup of joe, though.
Wayne's eyes cracked open and he turned his head. There was the unmistakable sound of Eddie's heavy, socked footsteps stomping around outside the bedroom door, then frantic mumbling, then drawers opening and closing.
And for a second, Wayne thought he could just close his eyes, roll back over, and return to his much-needed shut-eye.
But then the door burst open and the edge of the bed dipped under Eddie's weight.
"Wayne, I don't mean to alarm you," Eddie whispered. Well, that certainly was cause for alarm. "But do you know where that lawyer's phone number is? Mr. Nelson?"
"What?" Wayne asked gruffly and pushed himself onto his elbows so he could look at Eddie.
"Look at this shit." Eddie pushed a newspaper into his uncle's face and Wayne swatted him backwards. Eddie, impatient, just started reading from the paper himself. "’Spot the Spawn. While primary suspect of the murders of three local teens, Edward Munson, has been seemingly exonerated, there remains some suspicion amongst citizens of Hawkins. Especially as Munson roams about the town, shopping at Bradley’s Big Buy and getting perms at the local hair salon. ‘I fear for my life any time I see him.’ Can you believe this shit? The slander!”
The need for caffeine was gone in an instant, and Wayne reached out to read the paper for himself.
“Lemme see that,” he grumbled as the anger bubbled up. “You’re innocent. Your name's been cleared. This is slander if I’ve ever heard it. I’ll call Nelson immediatel—”
“No!” Eddie shouted and Wayne froze.
“No? Ed, you were just asking where the phone number was…”
“Not no as in “don’t call him.” No as in…it’s not about the innocence part.”
Wayne blinked slowly, taking a moment to relive the last few minutes to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Had he blacked out? Had he hallucinated something?
“This sentence,” Eddie jabbed his finger into the paper. “Getting perms at the local salon. There’s the slander. The libel. These curls are all natural, I don’t need a perm. Hell, wouldn’t get one if my life depended on it.”
Wayne stared at him.
“My reputation is already in the tank with that picture they put in the paper a few weeks ago. The one where I was running away from that duck? I can’t let it go down the drain even further because of this.”
And he stared.
“The band’s not gonna make it big if I’m this…duck-fearing, perm-getting…w-why are you looking at me like that?”
“Edward, you know what I'm gonna do?” Wayne set aside the newspaper. “I’m gonna roll right over and close my eyes for another hour. And when I wake up, you’re gonna come back in here and tell me about this article again. And you’re not gonna mention the words duck or perm again. Alright?”
There was a beat before Eddie muttered, “The duck thing was last week.”
“Ed?!”
“Alright.”
“Good.”
Wayne settled back down under the comforter and waved a hand over his shoulder. The mattress shifted as Eddie stood up and left him alone. But not before Wayne called back out to him.
Prompt: Day 5 - Perm | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: mild gore | POV: Eddie / Steve | Relationships: Steddie if you squint | Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Eddie's parents, Season 5, Eddie's living his best life
Eddie’s home late from school, because he’s been in the library for hours and lost track of time. He has a paper due next week, and he wants to finish it so he has time to prep for his math test. Have a plan and be prepared, that’s the Munson doctrine.
Mom greets him with a kiss, practically bouncing on her toes. She’s happy by nature, one of those rays of light that banishes shadows from a room when she enters it. It’s her super power.
She got a perm today, like Karen Wheeler, she says, and he lies and tells her it looks nice. She had beautiful long hair that always smelled like lemons, it was so soft, and he used to love standing behind her and brushing it, knowing her eyes would close and she wouldn’t be in pain anymore.
Mom hands him a letter, something formal, already opened. “Sorry,” she says, “I opened it by accident.” She didn’t, but that’s okay, he doesn’t really have any secrets from her.
She’s excited so it can’t be anything bad, and he starts to read it out loud in his best Walter Cronkite voice, but he stops half what through the first sentence, his heart in his mouth.
“Is this real?” he asks her, his voice wavering.
She bounces on her toes, unable to hide her joy, and she nods furiously.
“You’re going to college, baby.”
Dad brings pizza home, which is big deal because Wayne only gets it on Eddie’s birthday; Wayne works hard but he can’t afford pizza just because, and Eddie has no idea how he knows that.
Eddie gets up to call his uncle to share the good news, but Dad tells him Wayne’s out on a run to Montana, not going to be home for a few weeks.
He pauses, let’s that sink in, percolate a little, because he’s tripping over something and he doesn’t know what.
“He drives trucks?”
Wayne did drive trucks, before Eddie went to live with him, after his dad went to jail. Long after Mom...
But Dad’s sitting in front of him picking pepperoni off his pizza and feeding it to Mom as if she was a baby bird. It disgusts him.
“You’re working too hard, sweetheart,” Mom says, and she tells him she’s worried, that he needs to go to bed earlier because he’s got bags under his eyes. But he’s okay, honestly. Tired, sure, but that’s the price you have to pay for success. That’s in the Munson Doctrine, too.
He’s almost late for school, but he makes it in time to go through his locker, grabbing text books and a notebook that doesn’t have any drawings on it. But he doesn’t know why it would.
Class goes quickly, he loves answering questions and debating with his teachers. Miss O’Donnell shares book lists with him, things not on the curriculum. He tells her about college, Penn State, a music major, and she hugs him and congratulates him because he did so well.
“You earned this, Eddie. Don’t let anyone take that from you.”
At lunch he joins Jeff and Matty, who stare at him when he sits.
“Where’s Gareth?” he asks.
Jeff looks like a deer in the headlights.
“Who’s Gareth?”
Thing is, he doesn't know.
They ask him whether he’s heard of DnD, they talk at him excitedly but Eddie doesn’t hear the rest as he stands and leaves his lunch behind. He’s suddenly not very hungry.
When he gets to his locker Jeff and Matty are waiting for him, but they’re not there as friends because they don’t know who he is. They hand him a flyer for Hellfire Club and tell him to come along on Friday night. He probably won’t, but he keeps the flyer.
The bell rings and teenagers scatter, but he feels rooted to the spot. He’ll be late for Algebra, but Mrs Click thinks the sun shines out of his ass, so she won’t mind.
The world tips sideways, and he falls against his locker, grabbing the door to stay upright. Maybe he is sick. He’s a straight A student, his guidance counsellor says he’s putting too much pressure on himself trying to meet impossible standards. But they’re not impossible, because he’s going to college.
“You’re going to be late for class, Edward.”
It makes him shiver when he hears that voice. Eddie doesn’t even take any of his classes, but the man always find him, always seems to be behind a corner waiting for him. No escape.
“Sorry, Mr Creel,” he says as he slings his bag over his shoulder and hurries down the empty hallway, and back to his class.
“Eddie? Holy shit, Eddie!”
Steve leaves the boy he’s been helping and runs to the other side of the cavern. Eddie’s buried deeper than the kids, and Steve feels sick when he realises how long Eddie’s been trapped here.
Robin joins him, slashing at the vines and membranes trapping Eddie while Steve pulls the fleshy tentacle from his mouth. The sound of it snaking up Eddie’s chest and gullet makes him retch but he keeps going. It’s a fucking miracle and he’s not letting go now.
Because Eddie Munson died eighteen months ago but he’s here and this time Steve’s bringing him home.
The last vine falls away and Eddie collapses into Steve’s arms as a whirlwind of black smoke leaves his body. Steve’s hit with a horrible flash of memory, of Eddie’s ribs cracking under his hands, slippery with blood. Of leaving Eddie behind.
Not this time.
Eddie gags, and Steve flips him over, lets the slime and shit in his mouth run out so he can finally breathe, before wrapping Eddie’s cold, emaciated body in his jacket.
“I’ve got you,” he says, and he doesn’t stop, not until after Jane has left them, not until the Upside Down is destroyed. Not until Eddie’s taken away by doctors and Steve takes his first full breath in eighteen months.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Prompt #6 - Family Video | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Recreational Drug Use | POV: Steve | Pairing: Steve & Corroded Coffin, Steddie (If You Squint) | Tags: Pre & Post S4, Family Video, Time Jump, Steve & Eddie Strike a Deal, Open Ending
January 1986
"No, no, no. No way. You already have twenty-two dollars in fees," Steve says, snatching the tape away from Eddie Munson.
"C'mon, man. What's it to you? Is it coming out of your pocket? Did your family buy Family Video?" Eddie asks, planting both of his hands on the counter, leaning towards Steve. Taunting him.
Steve holds his ground, leaning back into his face, "I know you're bootlegging them, Munson."
Eddie bites out a laugh, right in Steve's face, "Yeah right, Harrington. You think I have money for two VCRs?"
"No. I think," Steve says, spinning around, tapping on the keyboard, "Charles Goodwin has two VCR money. He owes me seventeen dollars, by the way."
"Charles? Never heard of him," Eddie says, shifting his weight back and forth. Steve knows he's got him. He's definitely on the right track.
"Oh really?" Steve asks, still tapping away. He'd linked these accounts together months ago. "How about Gareth Jones? He's up to eleven dollars. Or Jeff Williams? Four dollars."
"I'm not sure you should be giving out all this sensitive information about your customers," Eddie says, and Steve rolls his eyes.
"I'm not giving any of you any additional rentals until you pay up."
"Harrington."
Steve isn't moved. "Munson."
"Fine," Eddie huffs, and swishes around, banging the door too hard as he flounces out, in a whirlwind of hair and bad attitude.
"Four dollars," Jeff Williams says, pushing four dollar bills across the counter at Steve. Steve just keeps his arms crossed.
Steve can see Eddie Munson's van in the parking lot, and he's not an idiot.
"Where's the rest of it?" Steve demands.
"I owe more than four dollars?" Jeff asks, and Steve tilts his head back, sighing.
"No. They do."
Jeff turns and looks out the plate glass windows.
"Uh, I don't know them?" Jeff says, voice lilting up, as if he's not really sure about that statement.
"Sure you don't," Steve answers, finally grabbing the four dollars, and shoving them into the register. Moving over to the computer, and pulling up Jeff's accounting. Marking it as paid in full, begrudgingly.
Jeff taps the two tapes on the counter, and Steve rents them to him. Even if he doesn't want to. Even if he knows exactly what they're doing.
The note is wedged under the BMW's wiper blade. It's just a crude drawing of a VHS tape and an address. Steve knows it's them. Knows he shouldn't even care what the freaks are up to, but he's curious. Sue him.
He parks in front of the house, and Eddie Munson is waiting in front of the garage, smoking. Steve saunters towards him, and Eddie pulls up the garage door, letting Steve duck under. It's all dark, and Steve suddenly feels a gnawing pit in his stomach that he's been set up.
Eddie makes no sudden movements though, and just presses his finger to his lips, telling Steve to be quiet.
He opens the back door, and there's an immediate set of stairs leading into the basement. Steve follows him, careful to be light on his feet, and down there are three other guys and a lot of video tapes.
One of them is sitting in front of a double-VCR set-up.
"If you wipe those fees, Goodie said you can borrow anything you want," Eddie says, and Steve scoffs. Who's Goodie? Well, Charles Goodwin, he supposes. Doesn't matter. Steve works at the video store. He can already borrow anything he wants for free, and in better quality than a bootleg.
But he looks closer. And they have things that they didn't get from Family Video. Hardcore things.
"Where'd you even get these?" Steve asks, and Eddie taps a case.
"Indy," he says, "we've got accounts all over."
"And you're selling them?" Steve asks, and Eddie laughs.
"You know how long it'd take to make multiple copies? No way. This is for our own personal enjoyment. And we'd share, if we can strike a deal."
Steve looks at him, studying his face, seeing if he's bullshitting or not. Eddie's a freak, and Steve has no business trusting a word he says.
But.
"You don't want pornos? Fine. Quarter of weed a month," Eddie offers. "You wipe our fees, keep us in tapes, and I'll keep you stocked."
Steve thinks about it. Then, he demands: "Four sleeping pills a week."
Eddie doesn't react for a moment, then says: "Two."
"Three," Steve counters, and Eddie sticks out his hand. Steve shakes it.
Between the headaches and the nightmares, three good nights of sleep a week is well worth making a deal with Eddie Munson.
April 1986
Steve turns the key in the lock. Somehow, Family Video is still standing. He boots up the computer, and slowly types: Eddie Munson.
When Eddie's account comes up, it's mostly squeaky clean. Steve had made sure of it. Their deal really saved his ass over the last few months. There's a lone dollar fee for not rewinding the last tape he'd rented. Steve deletes it. He also marks the two movies that are currently late as returned, before moving the account to inactive.
Then, he scrolls through Eddie's account history. Like he's going to learn something new about him from the tapes he'd rented. Unfortunately, he doesn't.
Steve's not sure when, or if, Hawkins is going to be normal enough for renting videos, but if it does bounce back? Well, nobody needs anything else to dig into about Eddie.
"You're here earlier than we planned. Whatcha doin'?" Robin asks, waltzing through the front door.
"Just some housekeeping," Steve says, and clicks back to the main screen. Planting his elbows on the counter, leaning over. He yawns. He's not sleeping well. Again.
"Ready to board this bitch up?" Robins asks. Keith fled or is dead. They don't know which, and Steve nods.
When they leave, Eddie's friends are loitering around Steve's car.
"Here," Gareth says, pressing a baggie into his palm.
Three pills.
"A deal's a deal."
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Note: Does this follow S4 canon? Or is Eddie just over there healing? Whatever you prefer.
The fee for not rewinding, at least in Chicago, really was $1 in 1985.
rated m | 996 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: fade to black, strangers to friends to lovers, fast burn, hair washing
🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮🪮
It’s not Wayne’s fault. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was just trying to help.
Eddie repeats this all to himself as he pulls into Steve Harrington’s driveway. He can’t believe the situation he’s put himself in.
He doesn’t think Steve can actually help, but Jeff insisted that he could and Jeff wouldn’t steer him into disaster on purpose. Steve agreed to keep it quiet, probably more for his own sake than Eddie’s, at the expense of some weed for his next party.
Wayne insisted that he would get Angie from the salon to try to fix it, but he knows what Angie charges and he knows Wayne doesn’t have that kind of money. That’s how he got in this mess in the first place.
Steve opens the door and somehow manages to keep his face neutral as he pulls Eddie inside. He silently leads him upstairs and into his bedroom, then into the connected bathroom because Steve is rich. Or at least upper middle class enough that he doesn’t have to leave his room to take a piss.
Must be nice.
There’s a chair set up in the middle of the floor with a variety of scary looking bottles and tools on the counter. He recognizes a hair dryer, and a comb, but nothing else. He’s a little worried he’s about to end up on the news, and not in the way everyone expects of him.
“Sit. I have a lot of work to do.”
Eddie sits. He’s not scared of Steve. Steve’s probably the only jock who hasn’t taken a chance to punch, hit, or kick him. He doesn’t even really say anything particularly rude or hurtful towards him. Maybe behind his back once Tommy and his gaggle of meatheads have had their fill, but never to his face. But he has a certain tone that makes him obey without question.
And if his dick twitches a little in his jeans, that’s between him and the tight Levi knockoffs wrapped tight around his hips and legs.
He starts picking up strands of his hair and sighing, moving around him to take in the disaster on his head. Eddie clears his throat, but before he can say anything, Steve speaks.
“I can fix it, but it’s gonna be a while. You got anywhere to be?”
Eddie laughs nervously. “Rather not go in public like this so. All yours for the day.”
Steve pats his head like he’s a dog and Eddie’s dick reacts like he’s a dog wagging his tail. He swallows and hopes Steve doesn’t suspect anything. His damn hormones are just all over the place and he’s nervous and embarrassed and—
“I need to wash it first. It’ll help the curls fall more on their own. You said he did this yesterday?” Steve drags the chair over to the sink and Eddie cannot think about how much strength it takes to pull him across the floor like this.
“Yeah. Not even sure he read the instructions.”
“Even if he did, he didn’t have the right tools. But it’s not the first bad perm from attempting one at home. Probably not the last,” Steve pushes his head back into the sink. Eddie’s tired of his dick thinking this is foreplay. “Close your eyes. The chemicals will burn if any gets in them.”
Despite how straight to the point Steve’s words are, his actions are slow and careful. Almost soft. His hands are gentle as he scrubs what Eddie assumes is his shampoo for what Eddie assumes is longer than necessary. It feels so good.
He rinses just as carefully, placing his hand across the top of his forehead to try to prevent anything from getting in Eddie’s eyes. It’s the most taken care of Eddie’s ever felt in his life, probably.
Steve guides his head up and starts scrubbing his hair with a towel, his stomach and chest rubbing against Eddie’s shoulder and arm as he does. He’s sturdy, muscular, but not built like some of the other jocks who spend all their free time in the gym. His muscles are less obvious, and Eddie’s dick is getting harder by the minute.
“That already helped a little,” Steve explains as he combs through his hair slowly. “I’ll use something to strip the rest of the perm chemical out and then wash it again. Then I’ll have to use a leave-in conditioner and let it sit for a while before washing again.”
“Okay.”
What else is Eddie supposed to say? Steve’s helping him and he’s enjoying it. He’s not gonna turn any of that down.
Nearly two hours later, as Steve’s blow drying Eddie’s hair to make sure he’s fixed it, he’s pretty sure he’s gonna come in his jeans. He needs to get the hell out of here.
Steve doesn’t seem to notice. If he does he hasn’t said anything.
“All done. You might want to wash and condition your hair again tonight or tomorrow. It’s dry.”
Eddie nods. He doesn’t even own conditioner, but he can’t tell Steve that.
“You can have this bottle,” Steve hands him one of the bottles on the sink. “I got a new one anyway.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
Eddie stands and takes the bottle from him, hoping that his jeans are arranged in a way that hides how hard he is.
Steve steps closer. Too close. Kissing distance away close.
He smirks. “I can give you a minute to take care of that.”
He glances down at Eddie’s crotch for a second before looking back up.
“Or I could help.”
Eddie blinks. “What?”
Steve rolls his eyes and grabs the bottle back from him, setting it on the counter before he drops to his knees in front of Eddie.
“Changed my mind on the weed. Let me suck you off instead.”
“Um. Okay.”
Eddie’s hair is frizzy and will never recover from what that perm did, but he can’t really complain with Steve’s mouth around his cock.
Prompt #5 - Perm | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: E | CW: Erectile Dysfunction | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Post S4, 1990s, Steve's Got A New Hobby, Fuck Buddies
1995
Steve's squinting, and Eddie thinks that might be a bad omen.
"You sure you know what you're doing? Perming hair isn't the same as cutting it," Eddie bemoans, and Steve shushes him, waving a hand in his face.
Eddie shuts up.
Steve finally sets the box down, and pulls out the gloves. He supposes they're doing this.
Eddie makes the sign of the cross over his chest, because anything that could help this go right is worth a try.
It doesn't look bad. In fact, Eddie kind of likes it. It's just different enough that he feels like something's changed. And after everything he's gone through, it's nice to feel like he's made a change of his own volition.
It's been a rough decade. Nothing has gone right.
Except for Steve.
But they don't talk about that, instead they just do this thing together in between the failed attempts of either of them trying to date someone else.
That hasn't happened in forever.
Literal years, if Eddie's memory isn't all fucked up. That's usually Steve's thing. Eddie is Steve's extra brainpower, and Steve is Eddie's extended mobility. They're both okay, just a little bit damaged on the bad days. On the good days? Nobody would notice anything terrible had ever happened to them at all.
Eddie longs for more of the good days than the bad, and that's what they've gotten for a while.
Robin calls them co-dependent, which Eddie thinks is rich, coming from her.
Steve might still go chase pussy whenever he feels the need to coddle and cuddle, but Eddie doesn't ask, so Steve doesn't tell. But it's been a long time since anyone has come along to put a pin in what they do with one another.
"Keep it dry for forty-eight hours," Steve bosses, and Eddie gives him a sarcastic salute.
Less than twenty-four hours later, Eddie dabs at his hair in front of the sink, as Steve stands in the doorway.
"I said no water," Steve bitches, and Eddie wheels on him.
"Well, maybe you shouldn't have shot your load in my hair then," Eddie snaps, and Steve just laughs, scratching his bare stomach with his blunt nails.
"You're the one that moved," Steve accuses.
"I had a leg cramp. You know, where all that muscle is fucked? From some bats trying to rip me limb from limb? That ringing any bells?"
Steve just smiles, unbothered. Then says, "I'm gonna head out."
It puts Eddie in an instant bad mood. Steve's always heading out, never staying, but Eddie only has himself to blame for how things are. They have an arrangement, one that Eddie very carefully crafted to his liking. An arrangement only. Not a relationship. And after Eddie pushed and pushed, making sure to plant Steve at arm's length, now he's the pissy one that Steve's stayed just out of reach.
The audacity.
Eddie made his bed, he has to lie in it.
"Why you telling me for?" Eddie snaps, turning back towards the mirror.
Steve's reflection flips him off, before he disappears.
Hair finally washed, Eddie sits on the porch, damp curls soaking his shoulders through his t-shirt.
Eddie can hear Steve's car coming up the road before he can see him.
When he arrives, he slams the door, stilling in the dirt driveway, staring at Eddie.
"I've had a bad day," Steve says, and Eddie stands.
"Me too," Eddie says, and that's all he needs to say.
It's on.
Eddie's on his knees, and Steve's hands are fisted in his hair. It's grounding. Steve tugging him up and down, forcing his hot, wet mouth to glide along Steve's hard length.
His jaw aches, and he's grateful to feel.
"That's it," Steve says, "suck my dick like I paid you to do it."
Eddie's trying. Eddie's always trying.
And he likes that Steve makes him feel like it's still not good enough. He doesn't want to coast. Doesn't want to rest on his laurels. He wants to make Steve feel better than he did the last time. More satisfied.
It'd taken some forceful redirection to scrub Steve's softness from their encounters. Those first months, even as good as it felt, it made Eddie's skin crawl. Steve petting him, or holding his hand, or god-fucking-forbid, thrusting into him gently as he stared in Eddie's eyes. Like he wanted to see his soul.
No fucking thank you.
That's for relationships, and since they don't have one of those? Eddie's out on any of that bullshit.
So, Eddie had to mold him. Had to gently lead him into a little roughness, a half-step at a time. Steve won't hurt him, but he will use his words to cut, he will pin Eddie to the mattress, or pull his hair, and that's just fucking fine with Eddie.
Eddie closes his eyes and lets Steve just fuck his mouth. Lets him ram that big cock down as far as he wants to, and when he comes, Eddie swallows.
His own dick is hard, but pretty indifferent at being ignored, and when Steve manhandles Eddie to the couch, onto his back, Eddie knows where this is going. Steve grabs the lube off the end table, slicking up Eddie, slicking up himself, and getting a quick two fingers deep.
And then he's seated.
Eddie prefers it the other way around, but sometimes, sometimes Steve just takes what he wants, and that? Well, that's just fine with Eddie. He'll let Steve ride his cock, chasing after whatever he needs.
It's not like Eddie's dick cares. He still gets hard, but his orgasm likes to take its sweet-ass time after whatever nerve damage the bats caused, so if Steve wants to fuck himself silly? He can go for it.
Hips rolling.
The pleasure's dulled for Eddie, the sensations lost somewhere down a tunnel, meaning all he can do is last, and sometimes, like today, Steve uses that to his advantage, pinching Eddie's good nipple, a good twist, making Eddie laugh.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: I've connected all four of the haircut prompts into one universe, so look for more from these versions of Steddie every Sunday this month to see if they'll figure this thing out.
Prompt #5 - Perm | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Gareth | Pairing: Gareth & Goodie, Gareth/Di | Tags: Future Fic, Gareth Has Personal Experience, Nobody Will Listen To Him Though
Now
"You want a what?" Goodie asks, turning to look at Gareth.
"You heard me," Gareth snaps, "My mom said she'll do it. She went to beauty school. At least for a while. She dropped out, but anybody can do a perm. You can buy a box to do it at Melvald's."
Goodie laughs, "Yeah, okay. You do that. But you'll regret it. Your hair is curly enough. You don't need a goddamn perm."
"Well, I don't want it as curly as yours! Just, more like Eddie's, maybe."
"Mine is natural! Yours is natural. Trust me. You'll look like Grandma Mabel if you do it. Just don't. You ain't gonna look like Eddie no matter what you do. Those are just facts."
"I'm still doing it."
Goodie slackens his jaw, giving Gareth a look, that look, the one where he clearly thinks Gareth is an idiot and stubborn. Then finally says, "Can I at least watch this trainwreck happen?"
The fumes coming off the permanent solution burns his eyes, and he knows he's whining in front of Goodie, which definitely isn't cool. And his mom keeps pulling his hair as she rolls each little bit up into a roller, securing it to his head.
He'll never live this down.
When she's finished, it's the longest, stinkiest wait of his life. He runs laps around the house, looping through the kitchen and living room, Goodie watching him. As if Gareth might be able to outrun the stench of it.
When his mom finally rinses it out, he immediately knows he's made a mistake. He looks like Garfunkel, not Eddie, and Goodie is definitely laughing.
Well, fuck.
"Why's Gareth's head shaved?" Eddie asks, coming through the open garage door.
"Don't ask," Gareth mutters, but Goodie is more than happy to regale them with the tale of just how this all went terribly wrong.
Perhaps even with Polaroids to really get his point across.
"Damn," Eddie crows, and that's great, just great. Then, "Even Wayne does better work than that."
"Hey! Don't make fun of my mom, she tried her best!" Gareth snaps, then Gareth blinks. Trying to process what Eddie's saying, before finally asking, "Does Wayne perm your hair?"
Eddie looks at him like he's crazy, "Fucking of course. What'd you think? I spend money at the beauty shop? Not fucking likely. I ain't got beauty shop money. I've barely got disgruntled Wayne on three hours of sleep money."
Gareth doesn't know what he thought. That it was natural? But he knew it wasn't. Maybe he should have asked Wayne. Now he'll have to wait like a year to grow it back out.
"I could have given you a Jheri curl," Jeff offers, quite unhelpfully.
"Nobody's giving me anything ever again, and we're not gonna talk about it," Gareth demands, knowing they are most certainly gonna talk about it.
Probably for the rest of their lives.
Later
Gareth's standing in this kitchen, watching as his teenage son scrolls all the apps, showing his mom the hairstyle he wants. Gareth grabs his reading classes, sliding them over his eyes, peering down at the screen.
It's a perm. Are perms back?
"That's a perm," Gareth says.
"We know," Di says, glancing over her shoulder and giving him a look like he's on very thin ice, "boys can get perms."
He knows that. He lived it.
"I know that. It just might not turn out as good as you think it will. Your hair is already curly," Gareth implores.
"Gareth. Stop. It'll be fine," Di tells him, making it clear she's ending the conversation, as she turns her attention back to their son. "You can get whatever haircut you want."
Gareth holds up his hands, backing away, and leaves them to it. Maybe this is a lesson every teen boy has to learn for himself.
They've been gone for hours, and Gareth has dug through every box of old pictures he has. They're just lost to time. He doesn't know if that's a blessing or unfortunate.
Goodie.
Goodie might still have them. The blackmail potential was probably too much for him to resist keeping them, just in case.
Gareth punches his contact info, only to have his call immediately declined. That figures.
But ten minutes later his phone rings, and Gareth picks up.
"What?" Goodie asks, by way of greeting.
"Hello to you, too," Gareth snarks.
"I'm working. You know. That thing that some of us still do," Goodie pokes, and Gareth isn't rising to the bait. Gareth made his money. And if he got to retire early, that's just a bonus.
"I work," Gareth says, but it's flimsy. He definitely doesn't have a 9-to-5 or anything.
"What do you need?" Goodie grits out.
"Do you happen to still have those pictures?" Gareth asks.
"What pictures?" Goodie asks, and Gareth can hear him typing in the background. Distracted.
"You know. Those pictures. My perm ones."
The background noise ceases.
"Why do you ask?" Goodie asks, measured in a totally fake way.
"Di took Alexander to get a perm. I just wanted to be ready to help cushion the blow when it goes terribly wrong."
Goodie chuckles, "I've seen that they're back in style. It's like they took the 90s mushroom cut and made it worse."
Gareth laughs. Exactly.
"Let me look. I may have them."
Two minutes later, Gareth's texted three scanned Polaroids. The quality is shitty after this many years, but it's enough to prove that he knows what he's talking about from personal experience.
The fact that Goodie had them at his fingertips is frightening.
When they come home, Gareth's ready.
Only, his kid is happy. Preening and feeling himself, so uh, maybe his photographic evidence won't be needed.
Gareth hypes him up, because that's what a good dad does, and only later, once they're in bed, does he pass his phone over to Di.
"I was just trying to prevent this."
And the laugh she lets out will surely wake the neighborhood.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇
Notes: Where in the hell did Gareth and Di get a boy child? 🤣 AU of an AU, I guess.
Season 5 AU where Eddie lived and he keeps getting paired up with Jonathan for the crawls because everyone thinks they get along.
They don't.
They think the other is mildly annoying in small doses.
Big crawling doses? They're ready to kill each other.
They keep coming to Robin (for a reason she cannot fathom and would like to stop) to bitch about each other. She is just like, "Find some middle ground - where I am not at - and stay there. Jesus."
Eventually they find it.
It's Steve.
Unfortunately, they will come to realize that they have assigned very different meaning to the phrase 'Fuck Steve Harrington.'
And then. Turns out.
They have the same meaning of the phrase 'fuck Steve Harrington' and now they're fighting again.
#Jonathan: Fuck Steve#Eddie: I’m trying#Jonathan *couple months later*: me too#Jonathan broke up with his girlfriend and he's ready to steal someone else's#Eddie is just like: I literally have a knife. back off#while Steve has Wii Music playing in his head and thinking about his next shipment of boppers
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
for @corrodedcoffinfest day 3 prompt 'tv trays' (It's late, but I wrote this for my wife @dreamwatch so idgaf)
Prompt #3 - TV Tray | Word Count: 520 | Rating: idk, it's harmless | POV: Wayne
Roast beef, mashed taters, and string beans. And something he guesses they consider gravy, but it looks like if given enough of a zap it could come to life. It smells good, looks… okay, and tastes… well, he’s bracing himself for that one.
It took 20 minutes in their too-small, trailer-home oven and after a 12-hour shift that was a little too long, but he’s just worked a 12-hour shift so eating comes first.
The TV was making sounds in the living room as he rounded up everything he needed. The foil-covered oven meal, his cutlery, and a Blue Ribbon from the fridge. The laughter from the TV sounded tinny and packaged, then rolled into an advert that was 10 decibels louder. Why do they do that? Why, so you could hear them selling whatever it is they’re selling while you’re making your TV meal in the kitchen.
Wayne Munson was tired. Dead tired. But tonight was not a night to go to bed as soon as he got in. He’d showered, forced himself to get dinner together, and had turned the show on that Eddie had told him to watch. Some late night show on a community cable channel he’s surprised they even had. Their cable package was the cheapest they could afford, but it had the AAA baseball - go Indians! – and some random documentary channels he could watch on Sundays, so it was all good. And apparently, this community talk show thing – Come On, Indiana or something – and right now some young fellas were laughing with the handful of other people in the studio about something or other.
He pulled the coffee table closer to his chair and put his TV tray down, clattered the cutlery and swigged his PBR while he settled in. This better be worth it.
The time was ticking down to 1am when finally, the young fools on the idiot box stopped larking around, turning to the camera and made the announcement Wayne had waited up for.
“Ok! Tonight, for the first time anywhere on television, we have a local band - well, kinda local - making their debut performance for us tonight. They’re 4 young guys from Hawkins, they play some nasty metal, and they’re going to be memorable we’re sure… ladies and gentlemen, Corroded Coffin!”
Wayne sat up a little straighter without even thinking about it. The camera cut to Eddie, silhouetted in a corner of the studio, and suddenly that god-awful sound they make ripped through his TV’s tiny speaker.
“…Jesus Christ.”
Then the lights went on, the music exploded as all four landed on a riff in sync, and Waynes heart almost lept from his chest with pride. There was his boy. And the other three idiots.
He couldn’t understand a word Jeff was singing, and the music was damn atrocious, but it was his boy.
He spooned a chunk of limp beef and salty mash into his mouth, a PBR wash-down, and he found his traitorous foot tapping along to the music.
They were absolutely awful, but you gotta admit… they were good at it.
Prompt Day 2: Crop Top | Word Count: 569 | Rating: T | CW: None | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): Pre-Steve/Corroded Coffin/Eddie | Tags: Flirting | Read on ao3
for @corrodedcoffinfest
Eddie opens the screen door and lets it slam behind him. He sits down on the couch and lights his cigarette, waiting for the show to begin.
"Hey, dickhead, nice job waiting for us," Les says.
Les, Jeff, and Gareth stumble out the front door, mugs in hand and squish onto the couch. Gareth grabs his cigarette carton and steals one.
"I should've never told you all about this," Eddie grumbles.
'This' opens his front door and heads to his garden.
Eddie's neighbor, Steve (precious knowledge he learned from Wayne), is fucking hot. Like, would have people rioting over him like he's Helen of Troy hot. It doesn't help that he wears the tiniest crop tops Eddie's ever seen. His shirts hit him anywhere between just under his pecs and about the halfway point for his torso. Combined with short shorts with the white piping, he had to be lethal in this county and the neighboring ones.
"Goddamn he looks good," Jeff says.
"You didn't lie about him being hot," Gareth says as he blows out smoke.
"I don't lie about hot guys," Eddie smugly replies.
The first time Eddie saw Steve, it was after a night of heavy drinking. Hungover and hoping fresh air might keep the nausea at bay, he was instead greeted by a hotness so intense he thought he was imagining it. It turns out he wasn't, so now, every Tuesday at eight am Eddie is conveniently outside so he may ogle to his heart's content. He was even going to get up the courage to talk to Steve today. Except, now the guys are crashing after spending the night.
"Yoo hoo! Big boy, my friend wants to talk to you about something," Gareth shouts.
Eddie ducks his head and punches Gareth. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Trying to get you laid asshole," he whispers back.
Steve comes over. He's wearing a floppy hat today. Eddie is utterly charmed.
"Uh, hey," Eddie starts. He's looking up at Steve and honestly the view is amazing. He can see dark chest hair and the hint of a nipple. He sits back up and holds out his hand. "I'm Eddie."
Steve smiles. "Hi, Eddie. I'm Steve."
Steve's grip is firm, his palms calloused. Eddie stops himself from imagining what those hands would feel like.
"Hi Steve," Eddie replies a little breathlessly.
Steve nods his head. "Looks like a bigger crowd than usual."
Eddie turns his head and looks at Jeff, Les, and Gareth. They're all doing a horrible job of trying to look busy.
Eddie's face burns. "I may have mentioned something about my hot neighbor and they decided they wanted a look themselves."
Steve steps closer to the guys and strikes a playful pose, hand covering the expanse of his exposed skin. "And what do you think?"
"Uh, A+," Gareth stammers.
"Fuckin' fantastic," Jeff exclaims.
"I want to lick your stomach," Les blurts out.
Steve laughs and sweeps his gaze over them. "Well, if you want to come over, I get off work at eight tonight."
He waves to them, goes back to his yard, and waters his plants.
Eddie forces himself to look away and catches his friends' eyes. They look just as horny as he feels. They're going to be at Steve's house tonight at eight on the dot. They also have plenty of time to get some of their energy out before then.
